Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1908-03-03

which those VINO write must put tnel
pens only with reluctance and in sor'
row? Is it pleasant for a Frenchmar
to write of Waterloo? Can a true Eng
lishman write, with a steady hand ant
a happy heart, the tale of vain watch
fulness and weary waiting at Khar.
toum?
| So with me. l think of the events
which followed one another, so rapidly
and so strangely, in the lives Of the
man outside-and his friends and foes
While much is bright, some is dark;
would gladly leave out some things
which l must tell. 1 would find pleas
ure in saying that this and this happy
event took place, instead of that and
that sad one. But must be a faithful
chroniclcr; l must tell what happened
and as it happened, not because l love
pain much, shall l pain you, but be-
cause love truth fully.
Did Donald Barron sleep?
Let us apply our theory. Ought he
to have slept?
His money was recovered; it was
safe: his name would be untarnished;
his honor was secure.
But his daughter-she was the un-
loved and unloving wife Of an adven-
turer. the wife of n man so bad that his
soul had never shown its blackness un-
Ill he had, as it were, boastfully barred
his breast and opened his very heart,
crying: Look; have deceived you all;
behold the manner Of man l am; hate
me and despise me, if you wish, but
dare not to refuse me aught."
Gilbert Sem had told him that he
had no wish to ever see Elsie again.
But Gilbert Sem had been the very
soul of honor, exact to a penny, scrup-
ulous and careful and painstaking. And
Gilbert Sem had outdOne infamy at
last. Might he not again? Elsie was
his wife He had power to put a con-
tinent-an ocean-half the world, be-
tween her and the loving father, for
whom she had done so much; the law
was on his side; the power was his.
And, on the other hand, he had said
he would not do it; he. the man whose
life for ten long years must have been
one long, living lie.
Tomorrow he must face him. To-
morrow he must see him hand out the
contents of that once stolen tin box in
payment of the obligations which
would come from the hands of fright
ened creditors and depositOrs. Tomor-
row he must watch the careful accur-
acy with which every item would be
entered upon the books, watch the mat
ter Of fact sang frOid of audaclous n.y.
pocrisy-until he would almost go
mad.
Tomorrow he must make the articles
Of agreement regarding a partnership
with Gilbert Sem, make them in the
presence Of witnesses, make them with
a smile upon his face, and with friend
ship in his tone.
OmOrrOw-tOmorrOw.
Who had said it would be better
day tomorrow?
1t could not possible be true.
Tomorrow he must face the world as
well as Gilbert Sem; he must see men
hurry in for their money, looks of sus-
picion on their faces for him; he must
listen to congratulations on the mar
riage of his daughter; he must hear
men ask wonderingly of one another
whether it was possible that Sem had
money with which to help the bank
through its great crisis.
Sleep?
When he has worn himself out; when
he can live no longer without slumber;
when he must lose the consciousness OF
his woes and doubts, for little time,
or go mad; then he may sleep. Until
then
Ask me whether lost souls, with the
shadow of eternity lying dark about
them, can sleep. Sleep in the fires Of
hell!
The hours. of torture which Donald
Barron passed! Who can count their
miseries and their doubts? Now leav-
ing his bed. to stumble across the room
in the icy darkness, that he may look
up at the star, beyond which is God
and His peace, and wonderingly down
at the endless and tireless walk Of the
great detective-the detective who has
so great a reputation, but whose very
presence has seemed to be a bane and
q curse to him and his house, Now 60
ing out from his room, scantily clad, to
listen again and again at the door of
his beloved Elsie, that he may know
whether her breathing is perfectly reg
ular. and unbroken by sobs and means.
Now back to his bed again, to Wrestle
anew with the questions he cannot an
swer, and the feelings which he can
neither conquer nor control.
Thus lived Donald Barron for long
hours; thus he fought this battle which
he had found in his journey along the
road Of life; thus he toiled and strug-
gled with himself until he was weary
and worn with the agony of 1t all.
And then
Slowly he sank away into Slumber.
Slowly the dreams came about him
from their mystic homes in his mind.
pardon me, reader and let me tell
this as l must-as 1t happened. We
shall find little of dreams after this
night has gomez
1t seemed to Donald Barron that he
was very sick; he could hear some one
tramping up and down outside the
rCom-Or outside the house-some one
who was undoubtedly watching with
him, or for his death. He tried to call
for his daughter; she was too far
away: his voice faded into silence half
way down the cold. dark hall, at the
end of which 1t seemed to him she was
sleeping. Then the dream changed; he
had died: he was in his coffin, not in a
trance. not with reSuScitatiOn possible
and further life a hope. but dead-dead
-undeniably dead-though in some