Northern Weekly Gazette. — 1908-07-04 (Stockton-on-Tees, Cleveland, England)

TREACHERY DEALING.  oman he loved, to claim the redemption of a certain promise. He found her in her father's cottage, and stood before her, knowing even while he began his demand what her answer would be. And while he spoke to her he had a Curious and horrible idea that there, in the quiet room, with its common-place ornaments, the dead man was between them. The dusk of the afternoon had fallen, and the lamps had not been lighted; poris Crayden 'as Very 'Still, and -was watching him with that inscrutable look he had seen in her eyes before. And there on the door at his feet, with reproachful face upturned to his, lay, as it seemed. Poor  young Lennox Pyne. "I have come for my answer," said the man abruptly, wondering why he could not speak naturally, as another hum might have done, and why he could not shut out that vision. Even while he waited for her to speak, he wondered in a dull fashion whether in all the after years, while he walked the earth, safe and unsuspected, this ghastly thing would be with him always; whether he would wake at night to see it lying in the duet of the country road, and to hear the startled birds creeping and rustling back into the hedges; wondered if, as now, his hands would touch again the clothing on that dead thing, while he dragged and tugged at it, to get it out of the light of the stars. Even while he thought that the woman was speak ing. "It is not yet time," she said slowly. "I have said that I will marry You—when the truth isknown about your cousin's murder." "The truth?" he echoed savagely. "The truth is known; the man who did it ha.s been caught, with the 'evidence Upon him. What more do you want?" "Much more," she answered. "The man has not been tried; there May be a way of escape for him. The man has not been hanged; it may take a long time to fit the the rope about his neck." "I tell you the rope is fitted already, and the man as good as dead," said Ulick Shreeve. "For God's sake, Doris. let us forget all about it; let us remember only that. while this man must pay the penalty of his crime, it does not affect us.' Life stretches before us, and we are both young; but life is nothing to me without you. You prernised--". "When the. truth is known about the inftrder," she broke in coldly. "If you cannot keep to that condition', then you must dismiss the idea alto ‘gether. You ought to be Pleased, Mr Shreeve," she added grimly—" pleased to think that the death of this man—the hanging of him—means your happiness. Its such a good start for happiness of any sort, isn't it?" • He walked to the door of the room and stopped there for a moment, looking moodily at the floor., Then he came back to her. ." You dOn't. believe :this man Fleet is guilf,y?" he said. "I won't tell you what I believe," answered  Doris. lie suddenly caught her wrists and gripped them fiercely. "There's something in your mind—something you're afraid to say," he whispered "I an not afraid," she retorted. "You're hurting me; let go my wrists." Then, as he dropped her hands she went on calmly, "Whatever is in my wind is so firmly fixed there that it amounts to .a certainty. gionae day perhaps I shall SaY'what it ia—setne time I shall tell you; for the present , am silent. After all, you know," she added more , lightly. "you have nothing to fear. The man is ' found; the gallowe is building—the rope is being made that shall fit close about his neck. Why do you start like that?" "My nerves are upset; the shock of this thing has made lie replied after a moment's pause. "And this .dark room oppresses me." He passed hie hand across his forehead for a moment,  AZ A '1 il *5 r* .A.