Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1909-11-06
CHAPTER v-Continued.

! CHAPTER V-COnt1nue0.
! The elder man ripped the cover from
| the packet. exposing the back of what
seemed to be a photograph. Holding this
| to the light, its face invisible to Amber
| he studied il for several minutes in 81
| lence. a tender light kindling in his eyes
| to soften the almost ascetic austerity of
| his expression. I'm the end. if YOU live.
! you shall win rich reward he said at
length. He placed the photograph face
down upon the table
.How-a reward"
THE love OF woman worthy of YOU.
David
"But-.'' In CONSERVATION Amber rose.
almost knocking over his chair But
| Great Scott. man."
Bear with me, David for yet little
WHILE" Rutton begged. sit down.
| "All right, but" Amber resumed
| his seat, staring
You and Doggott are to seek her out
| from what may be worse than death.
And il shall come to pass that you shall
| love one another and marry and live hap
PLY ever after-just though you were
a prince and she an enchanted princess
in fairy tale. David
Il must say you seem pretty d-n' sure
about itr'
':It must be so. David: it shall be so!
n,
perhaps-and with age there sometimes
comes something strangely akin to the
gift of second sight. So ] know 1T will
be so. though YOU think me mailman
give it up Amber laughed uneasily.
"Go on. Where's this maiden in dis
tress?''
I'm India-rm not sure just where.
You'll find her. however.
And them
Then you are to bring her home with
you, without delay"
But suppose
You must win her first: then she will
come gladly
But I've just told you loved another
woman, Rutton. and besides
You mean the Miss Farrell you men
tioned?'
THAT will be no obstacle
What. How in thunder dyou know it
WON'T" Amber expostulated. faint
suspicion of the truth quickened his wits.
who is this woman you want me to
marry?'
My daughter
Your daughter,
MY only child, David"
Then why won't my-my love for So
phia Farrell INTERFERE"
Because said Ruttou. slowly. my
daughter and Sophia Farrell are the
same. No, listen to me: I'm not
raving. Here is my prOof-her latest pho
lie put IL INTO HdTuS
DaZed. the younger man stared blankly
at the likeness of the woman he loved;
it was unquestiOnably she. Fair. sweet
and imperious. her face looked up to his
from the bit of cardboard in his hands;
the direct and fearless eyes met his-eyes
frank. virginia. and serene, beautiful with
the beauty of a soul as unsulied and un-
troubled as the soul of child.
He gasped. trembling. astounded. so
phia ','' he said. thickly, coloring hot
conscious a Tightening
his throat muscles. making speech a mat
ter of difficulty. "But-but-' he stam-
mered.
Her mother" said Rutton, softly, look
ing away, was a Russian noblewoman.
Sophia is Farrelrs daughter by adoption
only. Farrell was once my closest friend.
When my wife died ." He covered
his eyes with his hand and remained ST.
lent for a few seconds. when Sophia
was left motheress. an infant in arms.
Farrell offered to adopt her. Because 1
became, about that time. aware of this
horror that has poisoned my life-this
thing of which you have seen something
tonight accepted on condition that the
truth be never revealed to her. 1t cost
me the friendship of Farrell; he was then
but lately married and-and l thought IL
dangerous to be seen with him too much.
left England, having settled upon my
daughter the best part OF my fortune. re.
tanning only enough for my needs. From
that day 1 never saw her or heard from
Farrell. Yet L knew l could trust him.
Last summer. when my daughter was
presented at court, / was In London:
discovered the name of her photographer
and bribed him to sell me this" He in
dicated the photograph.
And she doesn't know.
She must never know" Rutton leaned
forward and caught Amber's hand in a
compelling grasp. Remember that.
Whatever you do. my name must never
pass your lips-with reference to herself,
at OF
you know me-Farrel least of ALL i
Sophia knows that now said Amber.
"Quain and / spoke of you one night, but
the name made no impression on her.
I'm sure OF that"
THAT is good: Farrell has been true.
Now you will go to Indian
II will co. Amber promised.
You will be kind to ier and true;
make her love you?"
I'll do my best" said the young man.
humbly.
ut must be so-she must be taught to
love you. 1t is essential, imperative, that
she marry you and leave India with you
| without a days delay"
Amber sat back In his chair. breathing
quickly. his mouth tense. I'll do my
best. But, RuttOn, why? Won't you tell
me? Shouldn't l know-I. who am to be
her husband. her PROTECTOR
Not from me. I am bound by an oath.
David. Some day II may be that you
VIII KNOW. feFfdpS not. GU may guess
what you will-you have much to go on.
But from me. nothing. Now. let us set
tie the details. I've very little time"
He glanced again at the shoddy tin clock.
with slight but noticeable shver.
"How's that? It's hours till morning..
Il shall never see the dawn, David,
said Rutton. quietly.
What"
Il have but ten minutes more OF life.
80 IL you must KNOWN a word. poi
son. . That / be saved a blacker sin,
David"
You mean that medicine-the silver
phial?" Amber stammered. sick with
horror.
Eyes. Don't be alarmed; it's slow. but
sure and painless, dear boy. IL works in
| fallibly within half an hour There'll be
no agony-merely the drawing OF the cur
tain. Best of all. 1t leaves no traces:
diagnostician would call IL heart failure.
$50 And thus | escape that" He nodded
coolly toward the door.
But this must not be. Rutton. AM
Der rose suddenly. pushing back his
chair. Something must be done Dog
gott--"
Not so loud. please-you might alarm
| him. After it's all over call him. But
now-it's useless; the thing is done;
| there's no known antidote.. Be kind to
| me, David, in this hour OF mine extrem-
| ity. There's much still TO be said be-
| tween us and in seven minutes
! more ."
Rutton retained his clutch upon Am