Evening capital and Maryland gazette. (Annapolis, Md.) 1910-1922, 1916-03-25

Then what can We aoe asked me
Italian.
i viii give it t. voo oDieht. II
will be safer then ua. tae ruaver~
ing answer.
Then you must give me more than
the key" murmured Palidori.
Golden, dropping hack. staggered
away like a stricken animal and heard
no more. His last hope had withered
out The worst was known. lie re-
entered his home. like a man in a
dream. He sat gray-faced at his desk.
a sweat OF agony beading his great
body Then, after an hour of silent
wrestling with his soul. the natural
belligerency of the fighting man awak-
ened in him. Seeing only one course
before him. he sent CURLY for three
OF his retainers, three huge negroes
whom he knew lie could trust. To
each OF these he handed out a belt and
holster containing a revolver. Then
he briefly and colby gave his orders.
This island he grimly announced.
makes its own laws"
And late that night. when the hour
for his Intervention drew nearer. he
was almost able to .eNult in finding
something against which to ceutralize
all his earlier vague suspicious. He
moved with both calmness and pre-
cision. He showed the quick instinct
of the trained hunter in seeking cover
behind the heavy portieres. for the
French window beside him command
ed a view of both the library within
and the moonlit garden without. And
along the shrubbery of this garden he
soon detected Palidori stealing. car
rying a traveling-bag in his hand AMI
a coat over his arm. Through the soft
~ lighted library. a minute later, the
figure of GOlden's wife slowly ad-
vanced. She crept out through the
French windows which stood open.
stepped down into the garden. and
passed on through the shrubbery to
where Palidor stood waiting i'm the
shadows.
The watching husband could see the
two come together, he could hear the
murmur of whispering voices. he could
see PalidOris hand go out and clasp
the womans
Il will not go alone. l love you,
and | want you to he happy!"
The woman's answer could not be
heard. But Palidori, stepping sudden
ly forward, clasped her in his arms.
and forced back her head until his
lips smothered the cry that rose to
her own.
1t was then that the planter stamped
on the wooden floor. not with mere
rage. but as a signal to his waiting
servants He could hear his wifes
call for help, for already his three
huge negroes had darted through the
bushes and surrounded Palidori
The Italian. drawing his revolver
as he wheeled about, found his fire.
arm suddenly trocEod from his hand.
Even before Golden could reach him
he was seized and overpowered and
held a prisoner. The master OF the
manor. once his path was plain, was
not given to hesitation.
Tie up that man was his curt
command, and take him to the manor
cellars"
Then Golden turned to his wife
You will come affh met he said.
as ,la pointed towards the omen
French windows
Il was rot until she reached the
center of the lighted room that she
turned and regarded him with wound
ed yet pleading eyes.
You have dishonored my home.
and my name. That leaves you only
one thing to do. You will go from
that home" he cried. with increasing
passion. Il want you to 90. and 90
now, and never cross my path again.'
Wait" she cried. with her hand
on her heart Listen to"
1T is too late for words, 1 said. I'm
iii you leave this house, cannot
breathe in it,"
But did nothing wrong Oh, God,
If had only known! If 7"
4 want you to go" he repeated.
Goldens hand trembled as she
passed out through the door, but 9th
erwise he gave no sign Of the feelings
swaying him.
He took a great breath strobe
across the room, passed down the ST.
lent hall and threw open the mas
sive oak door that led to the manor
cellars.
These cellars were a 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 distribut-
ing point for the African traders and
a raiding place for the Caribbean free
hooters. IN the largest Of these cham
bers still stood rre lir-e-worn whip
ping post, the archaic branding irons,
the heavy oak stocks in which recall
citrants were punished, together with
that flower of Inquisitional ferocity,
the Spanish Screw-Jack, an elabora-
ton of the thumbscrew, in which a
prisoners hand could be inserted and
slowly crushed to pulp. Yet cruel
as seemed these old-time implements
Of torture, stained with the tears and
blood of another country, they were
no more cruel than the relentless light
in Golden's eyes as he confronted his
prisoner, tied and trussed in a black
oak chair close beside the old Span
ish Screw-Jack. The drunkenness of
blind rage sang through the nIanfer'a