The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-06-03

ne WOuld cOnie up tue other way. ant l would sit waiting and crying till 2 o'clock struck, then creep into my bed and try to sleep. Nights and nights have done this Nothing else in life seemed so important. for it did hold him back a little. but not so much as if he had loved me more. He loved me some, but he couldn't have loved me very much or he would have sent me some word or seen me. if but for minute, since Adelaide's death. And he hasn't-he hasn't-and that makes 1t harder for me to acknowledge the watch kept on him and how I know he never went through our grounds for the second time that night. He went once. about 9. but not later. 1 am certain of this. for I was looking out for him till in the morning. If he came back and then returned aft erward to town it was through his own street. and that takes so long he would never have been able to get to the place they said he did at the time they have agreed upon. I know that he needs some one to come out boldly in his cause. and I want to be that some one, and I will be, too, whatever happens to me, Tiff must. D she faintIy added.
 I was dumb, but not from lack of in- terest or from unsympathetic feeling for this brave hearted girl The sig nificance of the situation was what held me speeches.. Here was help for Arthur without my braving all the horrors of CarmePs downfall by any impulsive act of my own. For a mo- ment hope in one burning and renew ing flame scared high in my breast. was willing to accept my release in this way. I was willing to shift the load from my own back to the delicate shoulders of this shrinking but ardent girl. Then reason returned if consid- eration halted, and I asked myself: 'But is the help she offers of any prac- tical worth? Would her timid declara- tions, trembling as she was between her awe of her parents and her desire to serve the man she loved, weigh in the balance against the evidence ac- cumulated by the district attorney?'~
 It seemed doubtful. She would not be believed, and should have to back up her statement with my own hither- to suppressed testimony-a woman to be sacrificed whichever course took. Such native chivalry as remained to me urged me to spare this little friend of mine. Then Carmels image rose be- fore me, glorious, impassioned, driven by the fierce onrush of some mighty inherent force into violent deeds un. dreamed of by most women, but when thus undriven, gentle in manner, ele- vated in thought, refined as only few rare characters are refined, and my heart stood still again with doubt and I could not say: Tt is your duty to save him at all hazards. Brave your father, brave your mother, brave pub lie opinion and possibly the wrecking of your whole future, but tell the truth and rid your days of doubt, your nights of remorse." l could not say this. So many things might happen to save Arthur, to save Carmel, to save the little woman before me. I would trust that future, temporize a bit and give such advice as would relieve US both from immediate fear without compromising Arthur's undoubted rights to justice.
 Meanwhile something must be said at once. AS soon as she looked my way again spoke:
 ''Ella, this is no easy problem you have offered me. can sympathize with you, possibly as no one else can, but I cannot reach Arthur either by word or by message. Your father is the man to appeal to in case interfer- ence becomes necessary and you must speak. You have not quite the same fear of him that you have of~your mother. He's a just man. You may shock his fatherly susceptibilities, you may even lose some of his regard, but he will do the right thing by you and Arthur. Will you?''
 ''I will try could only tell father on my knees, but will do it Tiff must. Now I must go. You have been good, only I asked too much" And with 10 other farewell she left me and disappeared up the walk.
 Cro Be Continued.)