The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-05-12
MRS. BAILLIE REYNOLDS

we could have back the years that
the locust has eaten. Lord have
mercy upon us.
Goodbye. L."
He was a strong man, but, for the
moment, as his eyes took in the sig
nificance of words which as yet hard
ly reached his mind. he felt rs
though he was near fainting. The
perspiration broke out upon his fore
head, his breath came quick and
short. Vernon had her back to him,
being in the act of setting a saucer
of milk for her kittens upon the ter
race outside the window. Mrs. Bard
sley was carefully and capably pour
ing out coffee, her eyes intent upon
her business.
Come, Mr.. G1adwyn," said she
breaking into pause which was for
him filed with a whirl of horror, ego
to the sideboard and see what there
is to eat. Help yourself and help US.
Vernon. come in, and leave those
pampered animals alone"
|
Lionel rose unsteadiiy. He moved
towards the window with an instinc-
tive desire for air. Thoughts were
thronging too quickly, he could not
he mount and ride-gallop to Bar
row End to prevent tragedy? That
was the first overmastering thought,
and afterwards he was thankful to
remember that it was so-that his
instinct, before his mind began to
work, had urged him to Laura's res
cue. The morning air, floating to-
wards him, checked the Keeling faint
ness. And he knew with conviction
that he was too late. She would not
have written to him in time for him
was dead, he knew it: he felt as if
he could even fix the moment of her
passing-the moment when he had
turned in the moonlight, seen her
standing there 4. and repulsed her.
He stood trembling, shaking from
head to foot. One of the kittens had
escaped, and, with tail erect, like a
banner of rebellion. was flying along
the terrace with Vernon in pursuit.
1t gave him moment. A moment
in which he recalled Laura's one petit
ton. He was not to tell Nobody
was to know. But, if he spoke. if
he said one word ,even if he told
who was the writer of the letter, the
secret would be abroad.
But this was awful-horribIe,
Was he to sit down and eat his
breakfast, and talk and be as usual,
when Laura lay dead? Was he to
stand by quietly and take no notice,
and let the world go on, safe him.
self, and freed-freed by this awful
sacrificed.
i'll and leave the room? Should he
do SO. would they connect the action
with the letter just received? Yer
non knew that he had no English
correspondents. She could hardly fail
to trace some connection. He had
a moment ago protested that he had
not felt so well for months as he
did that morning.
And he was free.
All unconsciously. Vernon had said
yesterday, IF you wife were dead
/.
/. But was she? How was he to
know? Something might have hap
pened to prevent the execution of her
design. If he rode off at once might
he not arrive in time?
He felt his force giving way. A
chair was near and he dropped into
it. Vernon stepping in from the gar
den saw his CHASTITY face, and ex-
claimed in dismay:
Lionel, you ill! Auntie, look at
him.
Mrs. Bardsley turned round, saw
the ashen face, and rose from her
chair.
He spoke with difficulty. 81 beg
your pardon. A very sudden faint
ness. I shall be all right May I
go to my room %
The illness was SO apparent that
they sought no reason for it. They
let him go upstairs, and sent a maid
to see if he would have brandy or
sal volatile. He declined both, lock-
ed himself in, fell prone upon the
sofa, his face hidden in his arms,
and fought for control.
He had to fight to stifle down the
mad, detestable joy that rushed, not
to be checked upon his heart. Free!
Free!
And at this cost,
And how to live through the hours
until he knew that it was so?
"Good Godl I must be a devil."
he cried, sitting up and wincing from
his own CHASTITY face in the ward
robe mirror.
Opening the letter he re-read it
word by word. Oh, if he had but
shown mercy If he could assure
himself that he had resolved, during
the hours of the night, to rescue her
as the priest advised. If he had gone
avowed himself her husband and