The Pickens sentinel. (Pickens, S.C.) 1911-2016, 1914-11-05
CHAPTER II.
The Sian of the Three.

CHAP ER ~.
The Sign Of the Three.
Out-of-doors, high brazen noon,
day in spring, the clamorous life OF
New York running as fluent as quick
silver through it's brilliant streets.
Within-doors, neither sound nor sun
beam disturbed a perennial quiet that
was yet not peace.
The room was like a wide, deep
we'll of night, the haunt of teeming
shadows and sinister silences.
Little, indeed, was visible beyond
the lonely shape that brooded over
it, the figure Of an old man notion
less in a great, leather-bound chair.
His hair was as white as his heart
was black. The rack Of his bones,
clothed in thick black dressing
gown with waist-cord of crimson silk,
from the thighs down was covered by
a black woollen rug. He stared un-
blinkingly at nothing: a man seven
eighths dead, completely paralyzed
but for his head and his left arm.
Presently faint clicking signal dis
turbed the stiffness. Seneca Trine put
forth his left hand and touched one
of row of crimson buttons embedded
in the desk. Something else clicked
this time latch. There was the
faintest possible noise of closing
door, and smallish man stole noise
lessly into the light, paused beside the
desk and waited respectfully for leave
to speak.
''Well?"
ga telegram, sir-from England"
Give it mel"
The old man seized the sheet OF yel-
low paper, scanned it hungrily, and
crushed it in his tremulous claw with
q gesture Of uncomfortable emotion.
Send my daughter Judith here!" =
Two minutes later young woman
il street dress was admitted to the
chamber Of shadows.
You sent for me, father?''
sit down"
She found and placed a chair at the
desk. and obediently settled herself
in it.
"Judith-tell me-what day is this?"
"My birthday. I am twenty-one.' -
And your sisters birthday: Rose,
too, is twenty-one."
"Yes."
"Ycu could have forgotten that" the
old man pursued almost mockingly.
DO you really dislike your twin-sister
so intensely"
The girls voice trembled. "You
know" she said, I'VE have nothing in
common-beyond parentage and this
abominable resemblance. Our natures
differ as light from darkness"
And which would you say was
lght?"
Hardly my own: I'm no hypocrite.
Rose is everything that they tell me
my mother was, while I'-the girl
smiled strangely-"I think-I am more
your daughter than my mothers
A nod of the white head confirmed
the suggestion. 'It is true. I have
~atched you closely, Judith, perhaps
more closely than even you knew.
Before I was brought to this"-the
wasted hand made a significant ges-
ture-"I was a man of strong pas
sions. Your mother never loved, but
rather feared me- And Rose is the
mirror Of her mothers nature, gentle,
unselfsh, sympathetic. But you, Ju-
dith, you are likeSa second self to
me-"
An accent Of profound satisfaction
informed his voice. The girl waited
in silence that was tensely expect
ant.
"Then, if on this your birthday I
were to ask a service Of you that
might injuriously affect the happiness
OF your sister,"
The girl laughed briefly: "only
ask it,"
"And how far would you go to do
my will?"
Where would you stop in the serv-
ice of one you loved?"
Seneca Trine nodded gravely. And
after a brief pause, Rose is in love-"
he announced.
ooh, 1 know know!" the father
affirmed with faint ring of satisfac-
ton. "I am old, cripple, prisoner Of
this living tomb; but all things I
should know--somehow-I come to
know in course of time!"
It's true-that Englishman she
scraped an acquaintance with on the
Riviera last year-what's his name?-
Law, Alan Law"
"In the MAN," the father corrected
mildly, you are right. Only, he's not
English. His father was Wellington
Law. of Law & Son.
She knew better than to interrupt,
but her seeming patience was belied
by the whitening knuckles Of a hand
that lay within the little pool of blood
red light.
And presently the deep voice rolled
on: Law and ! were once friends;