The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-05-21

one thing to do. You will go from that home," he cried, with increasing passion. T want you to go, and go now, and never cross my path again. ''Wait!" she cried, with her hand on her heart. Listen to-"
 Ut is too late for words, said. Until you leave this house I cannot breathe in it.
 But I did nothing wrong. Oh, God, if had only known! If l."
 But now know" cut in the man of iron.
 The woman stared at him, wide- eyed, breathing quick and short.
 And. you believe that" she gasped.
 q want you to go!' he repeated.
 They stood confronting each other, their glances locked like the antlers of embattled stags, for several mo- ments. The woman slowly turned about and walked from the room.
 Golden's hands trembled as she passed out through the door, but otherwise he gave no sign of the feel ings swaying him.
 He took |. a great breath, strode
  silent hall and threw open the mas- sive oak door that led to the manor cellars.
 These cellars were series of gloomy chambers, almost dungeonlike in the massiveness of their walls, a relic of the older slave days when Windward Island was both a distributing point for the African traders and raiding place for the Caribbean freebooters. In the largest of these chambers still stood the tifne-worn whipping-post the archaic branding irons, the heavy oak stocks in which recalcitrants were punished, together with that flower of inquisitional ferocity, the Spanish screw-jack, an elaboration of the thumb-screw, in which prisoners hand could be inserted and slowly crushed to pulp.
 4 4
 That is the hand that polluted her body" his heart kept crying, as he commanded the blacks to force Pali- doris free arm into the screw jack. And now crush itH' he called aloud.
 He waited for some .outcry as the screw frightened on flesh and bone. But the Italian remained silent. Golden, now white to the lips, ordered the negro beside him to take up the branding iron. For that is the face D a voice within the frenzied mans heart kept crying, that violated her face!"
 The negro knocked the coal cinders from the glowing iron. Palidori's muscles hardened. But still he was silent.
 Brand the dog." commanded Golden. And after today warrant his handsome face will bring dis honor into fewer homes!"
 Once, and once only, as the heated metal scared the flesh, Palidori screamed aloud. Golden's own face twitched and worked as he saw the smoke curling up between the mov- ing black bodies.
 That's enough" he suddenly gasped, as he steadied himself against one of the cellar pillars. ''Now turn him loose. And if he is seen on this island, after an hours time, shoot hlln like dog!"
 A nervous sweat still showed in Q scattering of high lights across the planters sinewy face as he locked himself in his study and stared Elankly about the empty room. The wine of rage had already ebbed from his blood. EXultation no longer shone in his steely eyes. He crossed slowly to the window and closed 1t. He failed to see, as he did so, the stricken figure that slunk like a loI garden shrubbery, the figure that nursed crushed hand, yet, at the brink of the manor garden, turned wrathfully about and held his un- injured arm above his head as he said: May my other hand wither off, if you do not pay, and pay a thousand-fold, for this!"
 But Golden neither saw nor heard, for. all his being was centered about his own misery of mind.
 His face was still buried in his hands when the old negro nurse opened the door and his little daugh- ter, Margory, in her nightdress and holding doll under her arm, crept in to her fathers side. He looked at the child hungrily, torn by the re- Semblance of that innocent young face to the face in the locket.
 "Where is mamma?" asked the child, at her fathers knee. Golden steadied himself with an effort.
 It was too much for the torn and passion-t tossed father.
 "Take her away" he cried out to the old negress. "For Gods sake, take her away!" And he strode to the window, mopping his face as the child was led out.
 Yet, even when alone again, his agony of mind remained with him and again he sat in a stupor of mis- cry before his desk.
 He still sat there staring into space. How long he remained in that cata- lepsy of bitterness he had no means of knowing. But he was reused by the sudden clamor of voices, the excited cries of running negroes. He stared stupidly about him, pulling himself together. Then he rose and went to the window. As he did so a negro, hatless and .coatless, stag gered in through the study door.
 "Mista, the seas gwine. to git us!" panted the black.
 What do you mean by that?" parked out the master of the manor. Some ones done opened all the sluice gates. The seas a-fioodin' the island."
 '"The seas comin' in! The seas comin' in on us!"
 Golden was already on his feet.
 T l. l &<% the east, pumps, and start them work ing" he called out. And you, Stark, get Stevens and his men out to those sluice gates and work them shut. Get them shut if you have to swim out to them!" ..s
 "Tain't no use. masta," cried the