Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1909-10-07
CHAPTER XXXIV.

bring against him.
When he thought that he mao
been remaining quietly in hiding
while Lucille considered him guilty
of so vile and base a crime, he felt
rs if he could scarcely retain his
reason That the whole affair had
been schemed by the marquis he
had not the slightest doubt; but as
to how he should clear himself and
unmask the pIotter he had not the
least idea.
It was dark when he arrived at
the station, and there was scarcely
anv necessity for him to turn the
collar of his ulster up to avoid rec
ognition, but he did so, and giving
his ticket to a porter, got off the
platform by way Of the bank and
made for the village, intending 20
put up at the inn. But as he near
ed the Court woods the idea struck
him that he would go to the hut.
It was Just possible that it had re-
manned empty, but if not empty, no
doubt Hope or Loveday would have
been put into it, and he could trust
them: whereas his sudden appear
ance at the inn would create some
excitement and perhaps lead to the
utter failure Of his object.
With his head burning and his
heart aching with the memory Of
the past he made his way along
the familiar paths, and at last
reached the hut.
He had met no one, and with
sense of satisfaction he saw that
the little clearing showed no signs
Of new tenant The nut was empty.
He did not scrupIe to force the
lock, and entering, looked around
with dull, aching pain; the room
was exactly as he had left it, the
books still lying open upon the Ia
bic. the chairs Uttered as he had
left them on the night of his flight.
For q few minutes he stood look
ing round with a sense Of unreality.
Could II be possible that he had
gone through so much-that he was
to marry Marie Werner the day after
t0-morrow-or was it not all rather
a dream. The night was sharp and
cold, and he lit a fire and tidied
the room a little. He had bought
some food at one of the stations
and a flask of wine, and he forced
himself to make an apology for
supper; then he threw himself down
I'm front of the fire, and drawing his
travelling rug round him, tried to
think cOIIectedIy and form some deti-
mite plan; but exhausted nature
claimed her tribute, anad he fell
asleep. When he awOke in the
morning the wintcry sun was fore
ing it's way through the curtains,
and he rose refreshed and Gained.
Sleep had brought him a full reali-
cation of the situation.
what was this that he had rush
ed down to Darracourt to do? To
clear himself in LuciIIe's eyes of the
supscion that hung over him. To
do that he must accuse and prove
the Marquis of Merle guilty of the
diaboIcaI pIot-the marquis, ner
husband, Could he Harry, who
loved her so deeply, degrade her
husband in her eyes? What salts
faction would it be to him to prove
to her his innocence, if in doing so
he compelled her to acknowledge
that the man she had married was
q scoudrel. 1t was too late now.
BY his own folly he had lost her
lost her forever! and he must abide
by the consequence. The least ne
could do was to refrain from bring
ing misery upon her welded life;
she would discover her husbands
true character in time, doubtless;
but it was not for him, her lover
to tear the mask from the marquis
face and reveal him to his wife in
all his vileness.
No, He would go back to Lon
don, marry Marie Werner, who loved
him, and take her right away out
Of England, to which he would new
er return.
Perhaps it was better that she
should think him base and unwor-
thy of a single thought; it was bet
ter that he should never recall to
her that past which had been so
sweet that the remembrance Of it,
as he sat there in the silence of the
hut, made his heart ache with an
indescribable longing and regret.
Let it rest" he muttered, as he
thrust his things into his bag, and
beat out the enbers in the CRATE.
rather than She should spend the
Let her think me the criminal the
marquis has made me out to be
rest of her life knowing him to pc
what he is"
But though he had resolved to go
back he still fingered. 1t was hard
to tear himself away from the spot
he loved so we'll, knowing that he
should never see it again; and,
scarcely conscious of what he was
doing. he opened the door and wan
dered into one of the paths. He
would take just a last glance at the
house which represented to him the
shrine of his lost love, and then.
The wintry sun had vanished be-
hind a bank of clouds, the air was
so still that the pat OF the rabbit
as it scudded acros sthe path smote
on his ear as distinctly as the shout
beat of a drum. All the woods
seemed listening, waiting. He stood
for moment or two looking round
him biF5fno- the familiar trees fare