Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1910-02-24

| "Ay,' said the man. with curt bit
terness. 7 know him, old man. knew
his mother. You shall go home, and I'll
go with We. Then I'VE work to do
work to do. I'll 60 with ye-for-it's
Lucy's child"
Then the two men-the old one
still pressing the child to his breast
vent out into the park, silently, taking
-ftle Christmas home.
When they came to the Hut the old
mans grief for the first time broke
forth freely.
Wild words poured from his
lonely, miserable heart, and wild ac-
cusationa.
/ ''He killed him. He killed him. He
struck him out Of my hand! He
killed him"
! For time the man listened silently
his hard face bent eastwards and fear.
full in its expression of concentrated
lferocity and bitterness; but when
the old mans words became more co
herent and earnest he stopped and
listened more eagerly. and when at
last he had elected an account of all
the old man had seen in the deserted
garden a CLEAN of savage joy and
indicative triumph lit up his face,
and he threw up his hands as If they
grasped a sure and terrible revenge.
HE killed him." he said, hoarsely.
HE killed her, and he killed the
child. Blood for blood! Blood for
blood"
And as if the cry had cleared the
air, and penetrated the luxurious bed.
chamber of the wealthy and influen-
tial Sir Richard Wildfang, Sir Rich
ard himself stood gazing in the glass
at the reflection of his white, shrink
ing face and quivering lips.
CHAPTER XVII.
| And now it became rumored that
the great doctors of the Land had told
Sir Richard Wildfang that he must
rest for while from his gigantic la.
bors-rest body and mind, for, said
they, he had been working with too
tight pressure in the conduct of
some of the tremendous monetary
projects with which he had blessed
the commercial world
Sir Richard, smiiingly acquiescent.
went to Stella, and, placing himself,
as it We're, in her hands, asked her in
his softest and most musical voice, to
name the day. "a,
Miss Newton received his request
at first with a fear and dread, which
displayed itself in visible trembling,
but when Mrs. Newton vehemently
showed her that it was her duty to
put Sir Richard out of suspense, and
reward him as his great merit and
undoubted devotion deserved, Stella
regained her wonted calm and prom
ised to become Lady Wildfang three
months hence.
The fashionable world buzzed it
through ballroom and salon, boudoir
and conservatory, and the milliners
were set to work. Not only the mill
liners, but the builders, architects, up
holsterers and cabinet makers, for Sir
Richard declared his intention of
thoroughly renovating and redecorat-
ing his already pslatial mansion in
Warwickshire
The papers caught up the news and
inserted gossiping paragraphs relat-
ing how Sir Richard intended taking
his charming brides the regular Swiss
round, how he had just paid four hun
dred pounds for a paIr of carriage
grays, how be had said, dome or
thought this and the other.
And amid it all-amid the fussfng OF
the tradespeople, the chattering OF
fashionable acquaintance Stel-
la had no friends in the proper sig
nificance of the woodland, above all,
with her mothers perpetual hymn on
dissatisfaction ever humming in her
ears, the bride-elect remained calm,
cool, unmoved, as if she We're not the
most important actor In the coming
pageant, and the whole affair con-
cerned her only in a secondary sense.
What she felt when the shades of
night hid her. as they did Sir Richard,
from curious eyes, none knew.
II she was pale in the morning,
Mrs. Newton put her pallor down to-
the recurrence of one Of the head
aches which perpetually tormented
her otherwise peculiarly fortunate
daughter; she little guessed that the
pal1or was produced by tears and
writings of impotent longing which
kept Stella's eyes wide open in the
darkness and her heart bleeding.
4
The papers contained the news, and
they spread it abroad even to the
wastes of the Rocky Mountains, for
in the hut of fur trader, a trapper,.
clad in beaver skins, sat in that month
of July idly turning over the English
paper which some friendly hand had
flung into the hut.
/ The hut was a lone one, by the side
of a brawling stream, and the trapper
looked a lone man, with his rife be
side him, his bowie knife lying upon
the table and his eyes glancing dream
lily upon the paper.
The face was delicate Through all
the lines which a great sorrow or a
heavy illness had craven there, and
there was q wistful, careless sad.
ness in the eyes that spoke little of
the daring, rough-visaged, rough.
minded ordinary trapper. Through all
the rough clothing and amidst the