The weekly Iberian. (New Iberia, La.) 1894-1946, 1920-05-15

IS
cases there are all severe. The men
need more help than the average, and
there was one ward in particular
| won't describe it to you, but
the first time l ever set foot in it, I
knew I'd found the place to take all
L mad to give. And it was there that
1 met this man Morgan" He paused
moment. "And Morgan needed me
more than anyone else in the ward"
was he hurt so badly?"
The girls voice was taut with feeling.
Yes, badly" he said, 'but that
wasn't the point. He was alone. He
was friendless. He was under the
darkest cloud that ever man can live
under. You know what it was, Mr..
Cullen"
The older man nodded tardily.
Il have an idea" he conceded.
well, there he was-wounded, and
marooned in France, and with a bad
conscience. Perhaps you can under
stand why he got my sympathy"
Poor Dick!" said Angela, barely
above whisper, and Hilliard, looking
across at her, was stirred by vague
intuitiOns which rendered him guiltily
uncomfortable. 1t had simply never
occurred to him In announcing the
death of a man who had run away
from Syracuse in disgrace, he might
find pity and forgiveness waiting for
expression. Was there still an oppor-
tunity for him to change his tactics,
to admit that it was only the unre-
generate soul and the outward coun-
tenance of Dicky Morgan that had
persisted, and to maintain that new
being, penitent and resolute being,
had arisen phoeniXlike to make atone
ment for the wasted years that had
been ended by shrapnel fire from the
Huns? And suppose he did so, what
would they say? If public opinion
were to model itself upon the sorrow
Of poor little Angela Cullen, was it
not better to confess at once, to wipe
the slate clean, and to begin afresh?
Had he said so much that the path
way to truth was closed-or was a
lie well stuck to better than the truth,
half told?
Morals, which are nothing but neg
alive virtues anyway, hang on tribes.
Hilliard was tottering on the utter
most edge Of decision-and Mr.. Cullen
flung the weight Of an aimless charge
against him, and settled the matter
out of hand.
"He certainly had plenty to be sor-
ry for" said Mr.. Cullen.
"Oh, dad !" said Angela, with quick
intake Of her breath.
Virtuous, was Mr.. Cullen. A church
gOer and a communicate, was Mr.. Gull
len. A giver Of aims, and a friend to
his friends-but in forgetting that the
evil that men do shouldn't rightfully
be allowed to live on after them, and
in remembering, perhaps too clearly at
that moment, the final interview he
had held with Dicky Morgan, Mr.. Gull
len throttled repentance into state
of furious helplessness, and brought
back Hilliard to his senses.
Eyes," said Hilliard, che had plenty
to be sorry for, and he was. OF his
troubles here, I'm not capable of sit
ting as Judge. Instead, sat as con-
fessor. So that you'll be more inter-
ested in that part of his life which
you evidently haven't known about,
and l have. He left here, think, in
December. He hadn't any fixed pur-
pose; all he wanted was to find a
place where he could begin over again
on a fresh basis, and make a man of
himself. For that much, at
least, you can give him credit"
"And I do" said Cullen, approvingly.
billiard, swept again by the near
ness of deliverance from his deceits,
leaned forward. A strong Endorsement
Of Morgan's ambition at this juncture
might yet have brought about a re-
cantation.
"I'i1 glad you do, Mr.. Cullen. =.
l think myself it was the only course
he could have taken" He hung peril
ously upon the response; it would Ell
Their justify or condemn his present
attitude.
"That's probably why he took it,"
said Mr.. Cullen. "Oh. I'm fair enough