St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1909-12-18
ScOundrel
By NJ. BERTIN


His youngest daughter-the onl,
one of his children whom he loved
mad left him after she had told hin
that she was ashamed of her father
She became lost among the hundred:
OF others pure of heart, unselfish O
purpose and deep of feeling like her
self.
Over his desk hung her picture
Her eyes looked reproachfully dowr
on him. Right under her beseeching
eyes, nay, in defiance of them. he
wrote his clever, cold, lying articles
And yet Aladjev felt that there was
more holy truth in one of her mis-
takes than in all his cold calculations
Insomnia tortured him; in his sleep
less nights he could not drive away
the all-pervading dread of death
The stiffness of the night spoke to
him in mystic dreams. The figure OF
his sorrowing daughter gave battle to
his agony in loving kindness.
He feared solitude. Late at night
when he did his work, all the deep
shadows seemed to become alive.
His dreams were heavy. He stood
before the judgment seat and could
not justify himself. Unknown shades,
covered with blood, abject in their
despair, passed before him accusingly
and their number did not end. II
know them not" he said. Il did not
hate them; if I have harmed them
1t mad to be, because it was to my
advantage" Their number increased
continually, they grew up like. wall
between him and the Judge, they
reached out after him, showed him
their Wounds--and, in nameless dread,
he craWled out of his bed, shaking in
every joint.
The first report of the massacres
reached the editorial rooms. His CO.
workers talked subdued. in whispers.
Aladjev said nothing. He wrote
an editorial in his usual manner He
said few words of regret and
then he tried to show how unavoid-
able, how inevitable, how almost
necessary were these events. He
made use Of a knavish trick. The
massacres were not, he argued. the
result Of deliberate Indictment; no, on
the contrary, the massacres proved
how justified had been the cam
paign of incitement He was pleased
by the thought that he did not in
cite the riots.
He ate his dinner with relish and
was in good humor. He went to
the theater to see a French farce,
fingered at supper, and came home
late, little tired, but pleasantly agi-
tated. On his dressingn-table was the
oblong envelope; this time it had a
wide black border.
so you are mourning for the vic
tins OF the massacre!" he exclaimed.
He placed the letter with
out opening it under his pillow. and
fell asleep.
He aWoke suddenly. He did not
know what had happened. Icy dread |
was strangling him by the throat.
The black border of the letter stood |
IN front of him and gripped his chest,
A terrible pain had made him
nsensible. Soon he began to compre
lend. Yes, that was it. WHY had
he put the letter under his pillow? It
vas the black border which had ter
'orized him. Suddenly he saw clearly.
Those hateful letters were the dread.
I'll shadows which tortured him. If
lie could but get rid of them all would
re well, the shadows would disappear.
md his soul would find peace. He
rose from his bed and, without nut.
ing on any garment, he tiptoed into
lis working room. The full moon
looded the room viii III pale light. He
pened the drawer. There were the
etters. There were many, many of
hem. He took them out one by one.
cad each, and threw 1t away. But the
nore he threw away, the more re-
1ained. Everything was Uttered with
1em-the floor, the chairs, the couch
he tables. He hurried in fear. for
nese yelloWed sheets whispered be-
IND his back-he was afraid to turn
round-they cOnspired against him,
hey flew around like a flock of white
lrds, and touched him with their
lngs. He drove them away, but thew
lrfounded him In ever narrowing cir
les, thler number grew and grew,
ley slapped his face with their wings s
nd every movement of their Kissed :
le one word, "Scoundrel." I
And suddenly the circle oDened !
hat was this? The letter with the t
lack border stood in front of him !
he double sheet opened and began :
compress, to break his breast. No ,
clip, no salvation? He wanted to cry g
1t; his weak grOan was lost in the 8
yous f1appings of uncounted white 7
ings. In despair he looked up to the '
cture. She alone would plead for f
alone could save him. 7
The picture was no longer there. He
mself had removed it yesterday to
cape the everlasting reproach of
ose mournful eyes. With a wild Y
y he threw himself against the e
letter. \
In the editorial rooms the night S
rec had heard the Shrek. Thew t
lstened into Aledjev's room. They b
und him atop of a heap of letters. n
S face distorted with horror. A few v
eak signs of life remained in him, r
ley laid him on the couch. Everyone A
ID picked up instSnctively one of the n
tiers. The solemn silence around
e dying man was broken by sub
led whisper. AS they looked at the
tier each one pronounced in an un- r
rtOne the one word mSconndrnl I;