Bonners Ferry herald., 1916-07-07
CHAPTER ~.
Mrs. Farquhar Explains.

mTb. fdTQuDdT ran uOWn lue SIdlTS
to her sons library. 1t was a neglect
ed room, which he only used on rare
occasions. The old weapons hanging
on the walls had belonged to his ia
ther, and the whole atmosphere seemed
impregnated with the spirit Of a dead.
If powerful, personality.
Mrs. Farquhar closed the door with
chuckle Of triumphant malice.
They're gone at last" she said. 81
assure you there isn't a more surprised
woman in England than dear Sylvia
She came expecting to find me with
ashes on my head instead of a wig,
and / laughed in her face" Richard
Farquhar turned from the window
where he had been standing, and her
eyes grew suddenly grave. my dear,
you're not breaking your heart over
her, are your
'No." He came slowly into the room.
'I might have done so, but fate has
given me something else to come to
grief over. I've had a quarrel with
Sower."
She said nothing, and he went on
gently: "He was dangerous. l have
resigned my commission. That was
his price for my fathers name"
Still Mrs. Farquhar did not speak.
She sat down in the great leather
chair by the fireplace, and the wild,
childish horror in her eyes touched him
to an amazed pity. Mother, l don't
want to hurt you, but you must.
have a right now to know"
Eyes, yes" She put her hands to
her white-powdered cheeks. "Yes, yes,
of course. There isn't much. 1t was
In this room, Richard. He came home
one night and said he had killed a
man. lit was awfull-he had no
blood on him, Richard, but one felt he
had blood all over; it was In his eyes,
and He said it was all right-no
one could touch him, but he had to
go-for always. And then he cursed
me-and then he fell on his knees
hereby this chair-and buried his
face In my lap-and cried. 1t was
awful, Richard-a man like that-to
cry" Her voice cracked, and became
thin and broken like an old, worn-out
instrument. "Then he went away
and one day a man came to me and
told me he was dead-but l never
knew. I always believed l should
know"
he knelt beside her, and, taking her
hands between his own, soothed them
like child's. There was something
In the action curiously at variance
with his expression, which was hard
and reckless.
''But Sower-" She turned her
faded, frightened eyes to him. "I never
understood that, Richard; l never un-
derstood why he shielded u.s. 1t fright
ened me. Only once he spoke of it,
He said he would never make use OF
the power-unless we made him. But
II was his father who had been-mur-
dered. 1t wasn't natural, Richard, il
wasn't natural that he should forgive
NO" he agreed sternly; and then
after a moments silence: "And my
father-was there no reason-had he
no explanationY
With a sudden vigorous movement
she freed herself and stood up, her
clenched, jeweled hands pressed
against her breast, her eyes grown
suddenly electric
IL was the excuse" she said
fiercely. "And was excuse enough
you" He also had risen, and as
they stood there facing each other
the subtle resemblance OF tempera
ment seemed to blaze through theil
features like some inward fire, chang
ing all physical dissimilarity to a con
vincing likeness.
"Yes. You don't understand, Rich
ard-you are tco young. But it il
women like myself who drive men t,
such things We are educated to b,
professional vampires, and the more
brains we have the more deadly W.
are" She gave a short, ironical laugh
"Don't you want to curse me?"
NO." he answered simply. 81 dom
curse you any more than believe m,
father does If he is alive Il he &