The Leon reporter. (Leon, Iowa) 1887-1930, 1913-09-04

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of the pass to which you have beer
brought is that youa have in me such
a poor counselor, a rough sailor, bu
| one who would, nevertheless. give his
hearts blood to promote your welfare
or do you any service"
Now, as 1 said that laid my hand
on the breast of my coat, and as
bent awkwardly enough toward her
/ could not even bow as gracefully as
the little attorney just departed-I felt
the paper which I had taken from Sir
Geoffrey's hand and which l had en-
tirely forgotten in the hurry and con-
fusion Of the days that had followed
his death. I stood open mouthed
with surprise and shame at my care
less forgetfulness, and stared at her.
what is it?' she asked, instantly
noting my amaze.
81 am fool, 4madam, a laundering
fool" said l, drawing forth the paper,
"here is letter addressed to you
which should have delivered at
once" continued, extending it toward
her.
She tore open the envelope as she
spoke and drew forth letter, I'm.
folded 1t and there dropped from it a
little piece Of parchment which l IN.
stantly picked up and extended to her,
lbrt she was so engrOSsed in the letter
that she did not see my action and
paid no attention to my outstretched
hand.
I looked at the parchment I held in
my hand 1t was evidently the half
of larger sheet which had been torn
in two. The right half Was in my
possession. A glance showed ne that
1t was part Of rudely drawn map,
apparently Of an island, although lack
ug tic other half Of that l could not
be quite certain. 1t was lettered In
characters which were very old and
quaint, and some figures in the upper
left hand corner gave latitude. The
outlines of the map and the letters
and figures were all very dim and
faded.
Ny lady's letter was short one, for
the looked up from it presently, her
eyes filled with tears, the first l had
keen there, and for that reason l was
glad she should enjoy this relief.
suppose the fact that she was so alone
and had no one else induced her to
confide in me. At any rate she extend
ed the paper to me.
Read it," she said. "'Tis my IA
theirs last word to me-"
I took it from her. and this is what
read:
My Dear Lucy-As an ancient king Of
France once said, Everything is lost but
honor" and that trembles in the balance.
have speculated, gambled, tempted for
tune. first because I loved it and at last
hoping to win for you. But everything
has gone wrong. You are penniless. Even
your mothers fortune, Of which she fool
shly made me trustee, has followed my
own. Master Ficklin may save some
thing from the wreck. I hope SO. can
DO no more, and perhaps-nay, certainly
the best thing can do for you Is to leave
you. May God help you since cannot.
Your shamed and unhappy father, ..''
GEOFFREY WILBERFORCE.
Post Scriptum.-The last thing that
possess is this scrap Of parchment. It
mas been handed down from father to son
Tor five generations. The tradition Of 1t
IS lost. but there has always been at
.ached to it q singular value. Perhaps
some day the missing part may turn up
At any rate, of all that I once had this Is
what Is left. Should you marry and have
children pass it to them. A foolish re-
luest, but I am moved to make 1t as my !!
'ather made It to me. G. w.
I read it slowly. It was not brave |
mans letter. liked Sir Godfrey less
then than ever before. Some of the
ancient awe and reverence I felt for
he family went out OF my heart then.
Here" said l, ''is the Enclosure to
which your father refers"
She took it listlessly, but as her
glance fell upon it her face frightened.
why" she exclaimed, brushing aside
Ter tears, Il have the other half. It
.ame to me from my mother. When
he died, five years ago, she gave it to :
ne with much the same account as my
ather gives. have never shown It
o any one-never mentioned it even"
Why not?" l asked.
II scarcely know. It was valueless.
attached no special Importance to II.
sut now, now
ut Is a miracle, said, that the
wo pieces should have come together
i your hands. !" "
~ don't yet understand what L a h.
neans !. he said bnt Il WI Il.