The Ekalaka eagle., 1915-09-17

this time, of the witness who had seen
me.
She was the first this time to break
the silence
"Well," she said, 'you have asked,
and l have answered. You have made
me hope something from all this, be-
cause you hoped something from it.
What have you to say now?"
The tone in which she spoke warned
me that my influence over her was a
lost influence once more.
I'VE were to look at what happened
on my birthday night together" she
went on, "and we We're then to under
stand each other. Have we done that?"
She waited pitilessly for my reply.
In answering her 1 committed a fatal
error-1 let the exasperating helpless
ness of my situation get the better of
my self control. Rashly and uselessly
reproached her for the silence which
had kept me until that moment in ig-
norance Of the truth
"1f you had spoken when you ought
to have spoken" began, "if you had
done me the common justice to explain
yourself
She broke in on me with cry of
fury. The few words I had said seem
ed to have lashed her on the instant
| into frenzy Of rage.
If l had stayed a moment more l
know not what words might have es-
capped me, which should have re-
regret. passed by her and opened
the door. With the frantic perversity
Of reused woman she caught me by
the arm and barred my way out
LET me go, Rachel" l said. ut will
be better for both Of us. Let me CO."
The hysterical passion swelled in her
bosom. Her quickened, convulsive
breathing almost beat on my face as
she held me back at the door.
"1ou shall know that you have
wronged me yet" said, cor you shall
never see me again!"
With those words left her. She
started up from the chair on which she
had dropped the moment before. She
started and followed me across the
outer room, with last merciful word
at parting.
"Franklin," she said, II forgive you!
Oh, Franklin, Franklin, we shall never
meet again! Say you forgive me!''
l turned so as to let my face show
her that l was past speaking. turned
and waved my hand and saw her dim
ly, as in a vision, through the tears
that had conquered me at last.
Late that evening was surprised at
my lodgings by visit from Mr.. Bruff.
There was a noticeable change in the
lawyers manner. 1t had lost it's usual
confidence and spirit. He shook hands
with me, for the first time in his life,
in silence.
Il have come here after taking her
back to Portland place. 1t was impos.
sible to let her return in the carriage
by herself. l can hardly hold you re
sponsible, considering that you saw he,
in my house and by my permission, for
the shock that this unlucky interview
has inflicted on her. She is young
She has resolute spirit. She will get
over this with time and rest to help
her. l want to be assured that you
will do nothing to hinder her recovery.
May I depend on your making no sec
ond attempt to see her except with my
sanction and approval?'
after what she has suffered and
after what l have suffered l said,
you may rely on me-"
Mr. Bruff looked relieved He put
down his hat and drew his chair near
er to mine.
That's settled" he said. "Now about
the future, your future, l mean. In
the first place, we are sure that Rachel
has told you the whole truth as plainly
as words can tell it. In the second
place, though we know that there must
be some dreadful mistake somewhere,
we can hardly blame her for believing
you to be guilty on the evidence of her
own senses, backed, as that evidence
has been, by circumstances which ap-
pear on the face Of them to tell dead
against you"
There l interposed. II don't blame
Rachel" I said. II only regret that
| SAc Coulu 1ot prevail Ou ueIScll "
speak more plainly to me at the time ~
Answer me this" said Mr.. Bruff:
"1s the moonstone at the bottom of all
the mischief or is it not?'
"1t is, of course
Every good. What do we believe was
done with the moonstone when it was
taken to London?"
ut was pledged to Mr.. Luker."
1--WE know that you are not the per-
son who pledged it. Do we know who
did?"
NO"
"Where do we believe the moonstone
to be now?''
deposited in the keeping of Mr..
lukers bankers'
EXACTLY. Now observe. We are al
ready in the month of June. Toward