Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1912-01-04
showed the workings az
1t had not been under<'",
1t had passed as an aM.~.
KY,
AT 10 INSTEAD nI. ~

sisters thrO:it. then tIlis world is all q
tumble and it makes very little differ
c to me whether I'm alive or dead"
When these words Of Arthur Cum
berland v'"r" repeated to me | echoed
them in my iHmoSt soul. l, too, cared
very little whether | lived or died.
The grand jury reeled off it's cases
and finally took up ours. 10 the last |
hoped-sincerely. I~,think-that I should
be the mar to suffer indictment. But
l hoped in vain. A true bill was
brought against Arthur, and his trial
was set for Jan. 19.
The first use I made Of my liberty
was to visit Adelaide's grave. In that
sacred place l could best review my
past and gather strength for the fu-
ture. The future! Wa it under my
control? Did Arthur's fate hang upon
my word? I believed so. But had I
strength to speak that word? I had
expected to: I had seen my duty clear
~ enough before the sitting of the
grand jury. But now that Arthur was
indicted. now that it was an accepted
fact that he would have to stand trial
instead of myself. I was conscious of
such a recoil from my contemplated &C
ton that l lost all confidence in myself
and my stoical adherence to what I
considered the claims of justice.
I trusted Arthur: I distrusted Car
mel. But she had claims to considera-
fiOn wh;1h hn 1o1l-oI CLo --oo -
woman. Her fall would mean inf.
nitely more to her than any disgrace to
him. Even he had seemed to recognize
this. Miserable and half hearted as
his life had been. he had shown him
self man enough not to implicate his
young sister in the crime laid to his
charge. What. then. was I that I
should presume to disregard his lead
in the difficult maze in which we were
both lost? Yet because of the self re,
straint he manifested he had my sym
pathy, and I resolved to stand his
friend if I saw the case really going
against him. Till then I would con-
slider the helpless girl, tongue tied by
her condition and injured enough al
ready by my misplaced love and its
direful consequences.
The only change T now allowed my
self was an occasional midnight stroll
up Huested street. This was as neal
as I dared approach Carmels windows.
I feared some watchful police spy.
Perhaps I feared my own hardly to be
restrained longings.
This was before Carmel left with
her nurse for Lakewood. After that
event I turned my head no more in
taking my midnight stroll. I was not
told the day or hour of her departure,
happily, perhaps, for us both, for I
could eve have kept away from the
station. l heard later that she was
deliberately driven past the Whisper,
ing Pines, though the other road was
more direct and less free. if anything,
from possible spectators. They thought,
no doubt, that a sight of the place
might reawaken whatever memories
remained of the last desperate scene
preceding her brother and sisters de.
parture for this out of the way spot.
They little knew how cruel was the
test or what a storm of realization
might have overwhelmed her mind as
her eye fell on those accursed walls,
peering from their bower of snow
laden pines. But I did, and I never
rested till I learned how she had borne
herself in her slow drive by the two
guarded gateways-merrily, it seems,
and with no sign of the r~emembrances
I feared.
One sentence, and n only. reached
my ears Of all she said before she dis
appeared from town.
IF Adelaide were only going too!
But I suppose I shall meet her and Mr..
Ranelagh somewhere before my re-
turn. She must be very happy, but
not so peaceful as ! am. She will see
that when we meet. l can hardly wait
for the day"
One incident more before l enter
upon the serious business of the trial.
I started one night for my walk at
10 o'clock instead Of II. I went the
old way. and. the old longing recur-
ring at the one charmed spot on the
road, 1 cast a quick look at the desc
lated house which. short as it was.
reused feelings which kept my head
lowered for the remainder of my walk
north and to the very moment when,
on my return. the same chimneys and
overhanging roofs came again into
view through the wintry branches.
Then habit lifted my head and l paus-
ed to look again. when the low sound
of a human voice, suppressed into a
moan or sob. caused me to glance
about for the woman or child who had
uttered this note of sorrow. No one
was in sight. but as l started to move
O. | heard my name uttered in choked
tones from behind the hedge separat-
ing the Fulton grounds from the city
sidewalk.
Had the voice issued from this iso-
lated point of darkness? ! went back
to see. A pitiful figure vas crouchine
there. a frail. agitated little being.
ELLA Fulton!" | exclaimed. "You
wish to speak to me-"
"Hush!' she prayed. with a %frighten-