Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1908-08-18
Have you nothing to say?" she
asked, coming step nearer.
1T is true, am Hugo Charters"

nave you nOInlnS TO say sue
asked, coming step nearer.
1T is true, am Hugo Charters"
"Oh!"
The exclamation was the one sign
of weakness she betrayed. 1t sobbed
from her throat: a low wall of an
guish, the pitiful cry of mortally
wounded creature. 1t told him that he
had slain something which could never
live again: that blythe, joyous faith in
her own power to recognise and &C
claim good as something immeasur-
ably apart from evil. Henceforward,
good and evil to her would overlap.
She would view all things and persons
with blurred, doubling eyes.
Hugo seized her. At his touch she
shuddered, but he held her fast.
Il love you" he said hoarsely. 81
love you, do you understand. | could
have killed that woman just now. Joy,
| am yours. | never belonged to any
one else. l swear it! And can make
you believe it, if you give me the
chance
Let me go!''
II won't" His grasp frightened
fiercely. 81 hold you against the
world against your own will, say. |
was silent because | thought yor be-
longed to Burgess. But you belong TO
me, to me-
He kissed her madly, desperately;
risking all upon that supreme appeal.
She tore herself loose with a strength
which amazed him. He knew after
exclamation, had provoked him ir-
Acts to
ton, he realised her strength, the
spiritual strength so infinitely greater
than his.
She did not say word, but her look
was enough, a look to haunt an honest
man to the day Of his death, so ex-
presive was it of reproach, pain and
revulsion. She met his infamed glance
for an instant; then she put up her
hands and covered her face.
Hugo went out abashed, even as
Gehazi left the presence of his master.
The Forest received him. He rush
ed into it's shadowy depths, driven by
the Furies For three hours he wan
dered on and on. Above the moon
looked down in chill contemplation:
the eternal symbol of the light with
out heat that reveals everything it
touches and warns nothing. Her
beams shone upon world black and
white, bereft of colour, movement,
life The familiar forms remained,
grim wraiths, waiting patiently for
the animating touch of rosy-fingered
Dawn.
During this pilgrimage he passed
Kettle RarrOWs He skirted the wood
which had furnished the shingles for
the roof of one of England's proudest
cathedrals. Not square foot of this
wonderful domain had been untrodden
by Man. Monarchs had hunted here;
smugglers had turned night into day;
poachers had risked their lives to
shoot the Kings venison. These, gen
tie and simple, savage and sage, had
lived and died, but the Forest re-
NAMED unchanged and unchanging.
Finally, he flung himself down upon
the heather, worn out in mind and
body. The wind blew keen from the
high down to the northwest, the
ground was hard and frozen. He was
not conscious of discomfort, for. mis-
cry had reached the point when SEN
sation is paralysed. He lay in the
cold moonlight, knowing that this was
his portion, that he was ohtcast from
the only paradise he cared to enter.
For the first time in his life he had
seen clearly the might-have-been: a
vision which leaves some Indifferent,
some passionately rebellious, some
despairing, but none quite the same as
before.