The Ocala evening star. [volume] (Ocala, Fla.) 1895-1943, 1912-04-13

ing each other. Her heart grew
faint within her. She stretched out
her hand vaguely as Ii 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
OF his remark.
The man did not help her. he could
not help her. He just stood and
looked at her. She fought valiantiy
for self-control a moment or two and
then, utterly oblivious to the betrayal
tion-the moments were too great for
consideration of such trivial matters
she faltered.
you mean there is some other wo-
mani"
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, l never knew what love
was until I met you"
The secret was out now; 1t had
been known to her long since, but
now it was publicly proclaimed.
Even a man as blind, as obsessed, as
he could not mistake the joy that IL
Illuminated her face at this announce
produced upon him, however, very
different effect than might have been
anticipated. Had he been free, in.
deed, he would have swept her to his
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 1t was she who was forced te
take up the burden of the converse
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 I was,
thought that I loved. She was my
wife, I killed her."
"Great God" cried the girl amazed
beyond measure or expectation by
| this sudden avowal which she haG
| 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 yot
that MANI"
Il am the man that did that thing
but what do you know" he asked
| quickly, amazed in his turn.
''Old Kirkby, my uncle Robert Matt
land, told me your story; they sale
that you had disappeared from the
haunts of men"
"Apd they were right. What els.
was there for me to do? Although in
nocent Of crime, I was blood guilty
was mad. No punishment could b.
| visited upon me like that imposed b.
the stern, awful, appalling fact.
| swore to prison myself, to have moth
ing more forever to do with mankint
Or womankind with whom I was un
worthy to so associate, to live alon
until God took me. To cherish M!
memories, to make such expiation a.
I could, to pray daily for forgiveness
came here to the widest, the mos
inaccessible, the loneliest, spot in tn
| range. No one ever would come her,
l fancied, no one ever did come blu
you. I was happy after fashion, O
at least content. I had chosen tn
better part. 1 had work, could read
write, remember and dream. But 20,
came and since that time life ha
been heaven and hell. Heaven be
cause I love you, hell because to low
you means disloyalty to the past, t
a woman who loved me. Heaven be
cause you are here; can hear you
voice, l can see you, your soul i
spread out before me in it's sweetness
in its purity; hell because I am falls
to my determination, to my vow, t
the love Of the past"
"And did you love her so much
them" asked the girl. now fiercel,
jealous and forgetful of other thing
for the moment.
"It's not that" said the man.
was not much more than boy, yea
or two out of college. had been IL
the mountains year, this woman
lived in mining camp, she was
fresh, clean healthy girl, her fathe
died and the whole camp fathered her
looked after her, and all the youn
men in the range for miles On eithe
side were In love with her I SUP
posed that I was too and-well, VOL
her from the rest. We had been mar
ried but few months and a part O
the time my business as mining en-
gineer had called me away from her
/ can remember the day before w
started on the last journey. I wa
going alone again, but she was so IN
happy over my departure; she cluni
to me, pleaded with me, implored NJ
to take her with me, insisted On &C
| ing wherever I went, would not b.
left behind. She couldn't bear me on
of her sight, 1t seemed / don't know
what there was in me to have in
spired such devotion. but I mus