Evening star., 1921-10-23
Continued from Yesterdays Starr

Iit CledTSu MS throat, anu ncSlldleu,
and shuffied a little awkwardly with
his feet
1T is that the little bambino will
know that l am thinking Of her
great sorrow. though l have said lit
tie: that l speak of it again." he said
softly. The master has been long
dead? 1t Is true you have told me he
died on the night you wrote that
letter for him, but the letter"-he
produced 1t from his pocket. and
scanned it earnestly-"yes, l am
right-it bears no date"
My father died nine days ago
Teresa answered tersely. and half
turned away her head.
George shook his head sorrowfully. as
he backed across the threshold. The
old master. 1t is very sad! Nine
days ago. 1t is very sad. 1 wish
YOU repose, my little bambino. Good
Teresa closed and locked the door
behind Dago George-and stood still
tor an instant listening. Dago
Georges footsteps died away on the
Stairs below She moved a little
then, and stood with her ear pressed
against the partition of the next
room. There was no sound And
then she began to walk slowly about
the room. and few minutes later,
the time that it would ordinarily
have taken her to prepare for bed.
down in chair. fully dressed, and
stared into the blackness.
She, pressed her hand a little
wearily across her eyes. She was
here now at the end of those thou
sands of miles, every one of which
had seemed to yawn as some i'm
passable gulf between her and her
goal; she was here now, and, in
spite of her fears, she had reached
that goal-in time. She had even out
witted-for the moment anyhow
Dago George.
True, Dave Henderson lay there in
that next room drugged. but she was
not too late. She smiled little
she was too early. She dared not
make move now for perhaps hours
yet, not until she was sure the house
was closed for the night. and that
i.ago George-she did not trust Dago
George-had gone to bed.
And so she must sit here and stare
into the blackness. She would not
fail asleep; there was no fear of
that She could not sleep. Already
thoughts and memories, as myriad in
divergence as they were in numbers.
We're crowding upon her. and goading
her brain into an abnormal and rest
less activity.
She twisted her hands together now
IN her lap. She rem membered, and she
could not forget. the horror and the
fear of that night when her father
had died. and of the days thereafter
when she had performed-alone-t
last duties that had devolved upon
her. Yes. it had been alone. She had
lied to Dago George 1t had been
alone! If Nicolo Capriano had had
friends and been powerful in life.
Sicoio Capriano had been alone in
death. She had lied to Dago George;
there had been no heritage of power
She had lied-but then her whole life
was lie,
A low sound. a bitter moan, came
suddenly from her lips. 1t was not
the Teresa now who had faced DaEo
George with cool complacence in the
room below. She slipped from the
chair to her knees and buried her
face In her hands 1t was the black
nour. OF which she had known SO
many since tina: fearful night, that
Surged and swept upon her now again.
IL whirfed scenes and thoughts of the
past, and pictures of the future, be-
tore her like some bewildering and
tormenting Kaleidoscope. She could
not define to herself her feelings rela
tive to her fathers death: grief
seemed to mingle indissolubly with
otter adherence at his act of treach-
cry. But in another way her fathers
she was coming to grasp more clearly.
" seemed to release her from some
thing. from-from a tangled life.
All her life had been lie. She
was the daughter Of criminal. and
all her life had been a lie: her en-
vironment haGlbesn a lie. In big things
and little things 1t had been a lie. She
had lied to herself that night when she
had let this man in the next room
mere go without a word of protest
from her lips to carry out a criminal
act. She had been coward that
night, and it had shamed her. She
owed something to her father, a 10y
aity TO her father; perhaps, funda-
mentally. that was the basis for her
refusal to face the issue squarely that
night; perhaps 1t was because the
habit of years. the lies. and only lies.
that had been lived around her. had
strangled her and weakened her
Perhaps it was that; but if so. and il
she had owed and given loyalty to
her father. then she had given more
than loyalty-she had given her soul.
ana her soul turned miserably away
from this pitiful landscape Of life
Upon which now she was forcing 1t. to
But this was picture Of the past
Tor II 1t were true. or in any degree
true. her fathers death had brought
her hs seiease-her ease father was dead.
In so many different sense-alone
She was alone now, a free agent to
mold her own life, and the test was
before her; whether the life, for ex-
ample. she had acted that night when
she had sent Dave Henderson away
was the outcome of things extrane-
Gus to her soul or inherent in that
soul itself. Her hands that clasped
her face frightened. Thank God, She
knew! Thank God, that from the
moment her brain had staggered out
OF Its blind pit of horror and dark
ness on that night. she had seen her
way clearly lighted before her! Her
hrst duty was to save the man in the
next room from her fathers treach-
cry. and she was here now to do that;
hut she was here, too. to do some
thing else. She could. and would.
stand between Dave Henderson and
the personal harm that threatened
him through the trust he reposed in
Eicolo Capriano, and she would do
this at any cost and at any sacrifice
to herself: but she could not, and
She would not, connive at anything
that would tend to keep the stolen
money from the possession Of it's
rightful owners.
Her hands lifted now and pressed
begun to throb Yes. and she must
been not only treachery on her
fathers part toward Dave Henderson,
there had been treachery and trickery
toward the police In an effort to cover
up the stolen money: and. tacitly at
least. she had been an accomplice in
rs much thief AS that man next
door. as much thief as her father
had Intended to be-unless now. with
all her strength. with all her might,
she strove to undo and make restitu-
tion for a crime in which she had
power. not adventitiously. not
through haphazard. but through the
employment toward that end Of every
faculty of brain and wit and courage