Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1912-03-27
"
"And what is that?"

He Stood-Entranced.
Iy.
"And what is that?"
But again he checked himself
NO." he said, Il am not free to ask
anything Of you.'
And that answer to Enid Maitland
was like knife thrust in the heart.
The two had been standing confront
ing each other. Her heart grew
faint within her. She stretched out
her hand vaguely as if for support.
He stepped toward her, but before he
reached her, she caught the back of
the chair and sank down weakly.
That he should be bound and not free
had never once occurred to her; she
had quite misinterpreted the meaning
IF his remark.
The man did not help her, he could
not help her. He just stood and
looked at her. She fought valiantly
for self-control moment or two and
then, utterly oblivious to the betrayal
of her feelings involved in the ques
tion-the moments were too great for
consideration of such trivial matters
she faltered.
"You mean there is some other wo
man?"
He shook his head in negation.
81 don't understand. There was
some other woman?"
Eyes"
where is she now?"
Dead
''But you said you were not free"
He nodded.
did you care so much for her that
now-that now"
enid" he cried desperately. ''Be-
lieve me, 1 never knew what love
was until I met you"
The secret was out now; it had
been known to her long since, but
now it was publicly proclaimed.
Even man as blind, as obsessed, as
he could not mistake the joy that il
Illuminated her face at this announce
ment. That very joy and satisfaction
produced upon him, however, a very
different effect than might have been
anticipated. Had he been free, in
breast and covered her sweet face
with kisses broken by whispered
words Of passionate endearment. In
stead of that he shrank back from her
and it was she who was forced to
take up the burden of the conversa-
ton.
''YoU say that she is dead,' she be-
gan in sweet appealing bewilderment,
"and that you care so much for me
and yet you"
Il am a murderer" he broke out
harshly. "There is blood upon my
hands, the blood of a woman who
loved me and whom, boy as | was,
thought that 1 loved. She was my
wife, I killed her."
"Great God" cried the girl amazed
beyond measure or expectation by
this sudden avowal which she had
once suspected, and her hand instinct
lively went to the bosom of her dress
where she kept that soiled, water
stained packet of letters, "are you
that MANI"
II am the man that did that thing,
but what do you known" he asked
quickly, amazed in his turn.
cold Kirkby, my uncle Robert Matt
land, told me your story; they said
that you had disappeared from the
haunts Of men"
"And they were right. What else
was there for me to do? Although in
nocent of crime, I was blood guilty.
I was mad. No punishment could be
visited upon me like that imposed by
the stern, awful, appalling fact.
swore to prison myself, to have moth.
ing more forever to do with mankind
or womankind with whom I was I'M
worthy to so associate, to live alone
until God took me. To cherish my
memories, to make such expiration as
I could, to pray daily for forgiveness,
I came here to the widest, the most
inaccessible, the loneliest, spot in the
range. No one ever would come here
l fancied, no one ever did come but
you. I was happy after a fashion, or
at least content. I had chosen the
better part. l had work, could read,
write, remember and dream. But you
came and since that time life has
been heaven and hell. Heaven be.
cause I love you, hell because to love
you means disloyalty to the past, to
woman who loved me. Heaven be-
cause you are here; can hear your
voice, can see you, your soul is
spread out before me in it's sweetness,
in its purity; hell because I am false
to my determination, to my VOW, to
the love of the past"
rrO PIE CONrINIIEn