The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1913-11-27

ioOmSIuluS very Strange ndu Lap
pened up there, but it was lost to
Clinton's keen jealous gaze-one of
those happenings in the soul, which,
however mOmentOus, passes unOb-
served in the midst of the throng.
mot so fast!" Grace cautioned
Gregory. 1--WE must wait up here till
the very last-don't you see Mr.. Gin
ton? And Simon Jefferson is now
pointing us out We can't go down
that way"
Wei Gregory harshly echoed.
1--WE! I:have nothing to do with you,
Grace Noir. Go to him, if you will"
Grace turned ashen pale. What do
you mean?" she stammered. you tell
me to go to Mr. Clinton?"
81 tell you to go where you please.
That girl yonder is my daughter, do
you understand? Don't hold me back!
shall go to her and proclaim her as
my child to the world. Do you hear
me? That's my Franz"
Grace shrank back in the suspicion
that Hamilton Gregory had gone mad
like the rest Of the crowd. "Do you
mean that you never want to see me
again? Do you mean that you want
me to marry Mr.. Clinton?"
81 do not care what you do" he
said, still more roughly.
You do not carer" she stammered,
bewildered. What has happened?
You do not care-for me?'
She looked deep into his eyes, but
found no incense burning there. The
shrine was cold.
"Mr. Gregory! And after all that
has passed between us? After l have
given you my--myself-"
Gregory seized her arm, as if to hold
her off. His eyes were burning dan
gerously: Il saw murder in your heart
while you were watching Fran" he
whispered fiercely That's my daugh-
ter, do you understand? / know you
now, l know you now. :"
Grace stared after him with blood
less cheeks and smoldering eyes.
Clearly, she decided, the sight of
Frans fearful danger had unbalanced
his mind But how could he care so
much about that Fran? And how
could he leave her, knowing that Rob-
ert Clinton was beginning to climb
upward with eyes fastened upon her
face?
But it was not the sight Of Fran's
danger that had for ever alienated
Gregory from Grace Noir. In All in
slant. she had stood revealed to him
as an unlovely monster. His sensitive
nature, always abnormally alive to out
ward impressions, had thrilled re-
sponsively to the exultation of the au-
dience. He had endured the agony of
suspense, he had shared the universal
enthusiasm. If, in sense, he was a
series of moods, each the result OF
blind impulse, it so happened that
Grace's hiss-"It's the hand of God"
turned his love to aversion; she was
appealing as justification of person
al hatred, to the God they were both
betraying.
Grace began to tremble as she
watched Robert Clinton coming up,
and Hamilton Gregory descending.
She had trusted foolishly to a broken
reed, but it was not too late to pre-
serve the good name she had been
about to besmirch. The furnace-heat
in which rash resolves are forged, was
cooled. Gregory had deserted Fran's
mother; he was false to Mrs. Gregory;
he would perhaps have betrayed Grace
in the end; but Clinton was at hand,
L;
In the meantime, the voice of Fran
was to be heard above that Of the
happy crowd: 81 love you all. You
helped me do, it. l should certainly
have been mangled but for you per
feet heroes. Yes, thank you.
Yes. I feel fine. And, oh. men
and women, could just feel your
spirits holding mine up till l was so
high was in the clouds. That's what
subdued Samson. He knew l wasn't
afraid. He, knew it! And wanted to
win out for your sakes as we'll as my
own-yes I did! Thank you men.
Thank you, women. .
Well, If here aren't the children, toe
bless your brave hearts! And
is that your baby? My goodness, and
what baby it is! No, I'm not
a bit tired"
She stopped suddenly, on feeling a
crushing grip. She looked down, a
frown forming on her brow, but the
sun shone clear when she saw Abbott
Ashton. She gave him swift look, as
if to penetrate his inmost thoughts.
(TO BE CONTINUED