The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1917-05-24


How did you Obtain this?"
"The chain, madame? 1t had
fallen in the water
The chain! No! The box!"
He looked at her In surprise.
1T was given me very long
ago"
And by whom?'
by young child. madame"
Her lips parted slightly. The
box is mine! | gave 1t! And
your"
lie stood entranced before her.
breathless and mute.
and you?" she cried once
more. And you-you are Philips
friend? You are BERTHE Cecil?'
Petite Reine!" he murmured.
"Ah! how could be so blind?"
She grew very pale as she sank
back again upon the couch from
which she had risen. lie sank
down beside her on a low seat,
and bowed his head on his hands.
She watched him with grave,
musing eyes.
"Why have you allowed my
brother to think you dead all these
years? You know how Philip
loved you. You must know how
he would grieve," she said, at
last, when he did break the ST.
lence.
LET us not talk of me-" he ex-
claimed passionately. TELL me OF
yourself and of him."
He raised his burning eyes to
her face, and she, unable to resist
the appeal, talked for many min
utes, while he drank in her words.
Then she determinedly turned
the conversation back to himself.
"Do you know that Lord Royal
lieu is dead? That your younger
brother bears the title, thinking
you persisted at Marseilles? He
was here with me yesterday; he
has come to Algeria for the au-
tumn. Whatever your motive may
have been to remain thus hidden
from us all. you must claim your
own rights now
flush, for PHYS sakel Have
you never heard--have none ever
told you
"What?"
lie turned from her so that she
could not see his face.
THAT, when | became dead to
the world, | died accused of hav-
ing forged your brothers name"
His last words were suffocated
with the supreme anguish of their
utterance. AS she heard she
stretched her hands out toward
him with q gesture of infinite elo-
quence.
You are guiltless, whatever
circumstances may have arrayed
against you. Is 1t not so?"
He bowed low over her hands
as he took them and looked her
full in the eyes, her own involun-
tarily filled with tears.
Il was guiltless. Ask me no
more; give me your belief, II you
can, but leave me to fulfill my
fate, and tell no living creature
what l have told you now"
TELL no one?" she echoed.
What! not Philip even? Do you
so mistrust Philips affection?"
mo. But as you love him-as
you pity me-pray that he and l
never meet!"
Lord Royallieu," she said soft
ly, you may be a Chasseur of the
African army, but none the less
are you a peer of England. This
is folly-madness--"
mo; 1t is neither. l have told
you l should stand as a felon in
the eyes of the English law"
but why do you permit false
charge to rest on you, and consign
yourself forever to this cruel
ganoy?"
His lips shook as he answered
her.
Because l can do no less in
honor. For Gods sake, do not
you tempt mel"
Forgive me-" she said, after a
long pause. II will never ask you
that again."
She could honor honor too well;
even to become his temptress in
bidding him forsake 1t. She stood
silent long, leaning against the
oval of the easement. In the dis
lance there approached three rid
ers. She started, and turned to
him.
at is Philip He is coming for
me from your camp today"
His eyes strained through the
|sun-glare.
az cannot meet him---I have not
strength. For heavens sake prom
Use me never to speak my name!"
II promise until you release
me-"
And you can believe me inno-
cent still, In fact of allf"
She stretched her hands to him
once more. Great, burning tears
| fell unon her fingers as he bent
over them.
~God bless you'll You were an
angel of pity to me In y0ur child
| hood; in your womanhood you give
| me the only mercy l have known
since the last day you looked upon
my face May ! come to you once
'moref"
aYes." she granted simply.