The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-01-11

COpyr1SnL, ISOo, Dy
 JOSEPH A. ALTSHELER
 Entered at Stationers' Hall
 All rights reserved
 fcontinued from page s.)
 More than ever he looked like a prophet of old.
 CHAPTER XVIII.
 An Old Cry Again.
 My return to the Capital was Wltn- out event, our march over the hlo tains being attended througnout DS good weather. Both Harrison anu vi nor were with the returning column. At one time I had had a malicious thought to assign Harrison to outy with the company that stayed penlno' b,.t r soon dismissed it as unworthy. However. I saw little of either nlln or Connor on the journey home, and' 'Whell [ stopped off at frahhlolI' 'hoS on to Louisville. ,.. ferent man, and what is more strange r knew of the change at the time. l suppose that a certain number or crlSeS occur in the life of every one of us, ana another had certainly arisen in mine. A largo measure of the content that | was gone. The past would come back. It had come with great vividness ana force in the. person of Elias Peabody who had known me, at the first glance for what I was, and who had never taken me for anything else. Long ai- ter I was gone from the mountains his words 'the longer you carry your bur, den. Charlie, the heavier it will grow echoed ain my ears, and I could see ms burning eyes and earnest face. Absent, he was still as much the seer ana prophet as he had been. present. Dlo he know more about me than knew about myself? The question came to my mind again and again, ana oesan 10 feel that the answer was yes. .. Ter mothers house near Carlton, put receive, a note of congratulatlon 1Epm her over my success with the Ieuo. ohe wrotA briefly and simply. as IS she were writing to a near relatlVe' "hoee career she wished to advance.
 The letter troubled me. wlsneo to appear well in the eyes of myself, Tn the eyes of the public and ill the eyes of Alicia. but she, despite herself, must thirk less we'll of me, disgraced, known to everybody, to have been a convict once, and expelled from my high ohce: What matter.d 1t that I had suffered lnnocently, and to protect her good - terrible thing, 1t acts upon us un- ceasingly, it molds us, despite our selves, however strong we may be, ana even the best woman in the world coulo not resist 1t always. I had too much to lose, the Governors mansion, my position honored among my fellows were very dear to me. The press was filled with praise of me because l had had the Kent and Horner feud in hand at once and with the proper mixture or stern Justice and moral suasion had ended it forever. l confess that tnls praise was sweet in my ears and l dld not like to have 1t turned to amazed indignation and cont1tmpt.
 I had time now for leisure and for thought of my own affairs The sum- mers ,had..come warm and bright and social life in Frankfort flowed in thin and slow stream. Throughout the State an unusual Quietness reigned. The rnOuntaineerS continued to smoke the pipe of peace, county treasurers kept their hands in their own pockets, the railroads attended to their own af- fairs, and the Governor wondered that people could be so good.
 Ias July I ran down to Carlton to see Uncle Paul and Aunt Jane, and they received me with joy. but with the new note of deference- that did not like in them, but which made up my mind
 
 clung- to it obstfnately, despite any, thing that I could say or do. Yet saw how intensely proud they were of me, and it would be a bitter thing to ffinne and to them to destroy this pride.
 I stayed only ten days at home, but in that time I saw Alicia twice. called at their house in a formal way and then asked them to dinner at our house. an invitation that Alicia ac- cepted for both her mother and her self. She seemed to me, observing her on each occasion. to be yet in state of quiet and if I may say 1t, pleasing melancholy. Her wonderful spiritual beauty was, unchanged. Her eyes were those of one who had known long and bitter grief. but who at last had found peace. E In her cheeks blooIned the deli- cate rosy tints of. girlhood.. My heart had yearned oyer her, and had longed to cherish and protect her, when she was in the power of that brute. her husband, and 1t yearned over her yet. Her mother, could see. with all her cold purpose and will, was afraid of her, and rarely. opposed any of her wishes What passages had occurred between them I did not know, but I judged that lenceforward Mrs. Warren would not have much to do with shap- ing her daughters life.
 Ours. was a dinner in the afternoon
 
 twilight. I asked leave to take them back in a two-seated rig of my own, requesting Aunt Jane to bear us com pany for the drive both ways. Alicia promptly accepted, despite her moth er's slight frown, and l took her upon the front seat with me while the two older worhen sat behind. It was not a long drive, but it was in the cool of the evening with all the pleasant odors of the woods and fields about us. and the wotnan whom loved sitting close to me, her dress. touching me, and her cheek not far away. But I never for got for a moment that she was the wife of another man, forever shut from me hy that invisible but impossible barrier. reared by the Law and the Church. The two. elderly women sit ting behind us, and watching me, as l knew both were. could sec nothing in any of my actions that would indi- cate in the remotest degree forgetful- ness of 4Alicia's position and mine. But we two should have been there alone, -.fthout the two older women, and in- s,I1e the Notifications of the Law and Church. I had never felt more in-