Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1909-05-25
CHAPTER III.-(Continued.

Stewards voice grew rather choky, and
ne paused for moment. With a sud
den impulse, Miss Thorne leant over and
lightly touched his arm.
Thank you" he said, abruptly, and
then, recovering himself, went on:
The priest came from the nearest set
Element to bury the poor little chap with
ali due form. He had christened him
when he was born, so that there was no
difficulty about that.
Besides the funeral, he did another
priestly job-that or frightening the poor
mother into fits with the announcement
that the child's death was due to her sim
and with threats of eternal birthstone to
follow.
80 having accomplished that nice piece
of work, he left us to the contempla-
ton of that little white cross on the hill
lock opposite the house, and with all
the flaming terrors of purgatory rampant
between us.
Luckily for me, harvest time was COM
ing on, and / was too busy by day, and
too tired by night to think-but without
thinking, there was always the latent
knowledge that the purpose / had worked
for was gone.
THE harvest was over, and the first
winter days were as gloomy inside as
out. The poor woman was crushed by
priestly terrors, and had once or twice
broken out that she must go and ask the
nuns to take her into the convent, to end
her days there, and make her repentance,
and pray for the child's soul Poor thing
believe that what mind she had never
fully recovered the shock of the child's
death.
1T was on this state of affairs, with
the long winter ahead of us, that there
came telegram from Orwell with news
of my brothers death-'Home, come home
at once. Bring your family it ended
with. / sat and chuckled over it. 1t
seemed such an irony of fate! And then
blessed God that my boy was dead.
and that that woman could not brand
him with a cruel name.
II might have felt some grief for my
brothers death, if he had ever been any
thing to me save bugbear of respecta-
bility held-over my erring head.
"All at once a great longing for my old
identity came over me. To go back and
be my first, my real self again, and let
all these hard ten years of ceaseless toll
fade into dream. To go back to a life
of ease and-pleasure, and assured place.
To wear decent clothes and sit at de-
cent table once more. Then l looked at
Mathilde, crouching by the stove, looking
more squaw-like with every fresh tear
she shed.
Il could give her no place IN that new
lie. l had bought my lesson and knew
that my race must be saved from her.
but could l desert her? If she had shown
one sign of clinging to me, l am not sure
bat that even then / might have sent
back word that l belonged TO the new
life, and would have set to work TO make
myself place in my new country.
But the fates willed 1t otherwise.
While this ceaseless problem was haunt
ing me throus - the days round. I came
in one twilight to find the priest in pos
session-very much in possession, too. for
he was about to carry Mathilde off with
him. She had her few worldly goods al
ready done up in a bundle, and though
she wept and walled, was quite deter
mined to do.
$50 | did my best to get the business
through as quickly as possible. told
but would place In his hands a sum for
her maintenance. Then 1 watched them
drive OF towards the settlement, behind
the hillock where the white cross stood
up against the dark sky, and went back
into the empty house, a free man.
1.-THE next day l cabled to my father
that ! was coming home at once, and
that my boy was dead. AS to the wife, |
said nothing Then l put my foreman
In charge, and started of to wha
was the next move in the game.
There, do you see anything very helm
GUS In all that?' Ee turned a look of
keen inquiry on his companion, who met
it unfinchingly.
NO." she said mo, l suppose that.
judging ~ mems usual standards, you
are not to blame for anything much, so
far. only" she hesitated, II do not see
how it can possibly fit in with"
with your" he interrupted. We'll,
bear with me little longer. You see,
am now going back, with my family in
utter ignorance as TO any details of my
lice.
MY father has no power to do ING out
of the baronetcy or the estates that 60
with it, but he can do what be likes with
the lands on which are situated the col
lieries which supply the cash that makes
the whole thing worth having. l received
inst before starting another of his and
nv sister-in-law's joint epistles, saying
that If he were satisfied that my life was
a thoroughly reformed one, be would at
onae make a will leaving everything to
me.
IF, or the contrary, there appeared to
have been any dubious events in my re-
cent life, every penny that he had power
to will should go TO my sister-in-law and
TO the charities that they are both in
terested in.
And so you see, the fat would be in
the fire should those two get word OF
Mathilde.
my father cannot live very long. He
had a second stroke after my brothers
death, and is quite helpless. l had
made up my mind to tell them that my
wife was dead: but even that had It's
risks. II were going to say so at all
/ should have done so when l sent the
first cable, and have got them used TO the
idea before they met me.
Anything else, however, means hand
ing over the best part OK the property e
that woman. and giving her the chance
of branding my boys name. BY heaven
she shall never do thati' And the lean
brown hands clenched fercely at the in
tolerable thought.
Evidently feeling that the crisis Of his
confidence had come. he spoke quickly
a. though choking back any misgivings
1T was only yesterday that the idea Of 1
new sontion dsvued upon me- You
answer decides It Win you marry M
as soon as we land, and come to 0rkwel
and represent my FIVE years wifef'
Throughout the last half-hour Mis-
Thorne could not but see these words a
the end Of the conversation. All the
same. they struck ser like blow ant
a deep, painful flush of shame burnei
her face.
AS 'Asbitant' woman? As the moth
ar st the dead childf 1t Is impossible.