Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 136, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 June 1912 — The Chalice of Courage [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Chalice of Courage

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By Cyrus Townsend Brady.

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SYNOPSIS.

Enid Maitland, a frank, free and unspoiled young Phatladelphia girl, la taken to the Colorado mountains by her uncle, Robert Maitland. James Armstrong, Maitland’s protege, falls in love with her. His persistent wooing thrills the girl, but she-hesitates, and Armstrong foes east ■on business without a definite answer, Enid hears the story of a mining engineer, Newbold, whose wife fell off a cliff and was so seriously hurt that he was compelled to shoot her to prevent her Doing eaten by wolves while he went for help. Kirkby, the old guide who tells the story, gives Enid a package of letters Which he says were found on the dead Woman's body. She reads the letters ana at Klrkby’s request keeps them. While bathing in mountain stream Enid is attacked by a bear, which is mysteriously •hot. A storm ayjfds to the girl s terror. A sudden delutransforms brook into raging sweeps Enid into gorge, where she is rescued by a Mountain 1 hermit after a thrilling experience. Campers in great coixfusion upon dlscoving Enid’s absence when the. sip l ™ breaks. Maitland and Old Kirkby Sp *n search of the girl Enid discovers that her anklfe is sprained and that she is unable to walk. Her rescuer carries her to his camp. Enid goM to sleep In the strange man a bunk. Miner cooks breakfast for Enid, after which they go on tour of Inspection. The hermit tells Enid of his unsuccessful attempt to find the Maitland campers. He admits that he is also from Philadelphia. The hermit falls In love with Enid. The man comes to a realisation of his love for her, but naturally In that strange solitude the relations of the girl and her rescuer become unnatural and strained. The stranger tells of a wife he had who is dead, and says he has sworn to ever cherish bet memory by living In solitude. He and Enid, howeverv confess their .love for each other. She learns that he Is the man who klllec&hls wife In the mountain. Enid discovers the writer of the letters to Newbold’s wife to have been James Armstrong. Newbold decides to start to the settlement for help. The man Is racked by the belief that he Is unfaithful to his wife’s memoir, and Enid ls tempt•d to tell him of the letters in her Possession. Armstrong, .accompanied by Kirkby and Robert Maitland, find a note that Newbold had left In the deserted cabin, and know that the girl is In his keeping. Fate brings all the actors together. Newbold returns from hunting game and Bees a man near the hut. It is James Armstrong, who has at last located the missing girl, and he enters the cabin. Armstrong pleads his ipve for Enid, but she reminds him of his affection for Newbold’s Wife. He grows Insulting and Enid orders him from her . presence. Newbold returns opportunely. He discovers the truth about Armstrong and would have killed him hut for the interference of Kirkby and Maitland, who came upon the scene. It develops that Armstrong was engaged plot to separate Newbold and his _ wife. He clears the woman’s name and afterward ends his own life.

CHAPTER XXIV (Continued). “Do you by any chance belong to the Maryland Newbolds, sir?" “Yes, they are distantly related to a most excellent family of the same name In Philadelphia, I believe*’ “I have always understood that to be the truth.” “Ah, a very satisfactory connection Indeed,” said Stephen Maitland with no little satisfaction. “Proceed, sir.” “There is nothing much else to say about myself, except that I love your daughter and with your permission I want her for my wife.” Mr. Maitland had thought long and seriously over the state of affairs. He had proposed in his desperation to give her hand to Armstrong If he found her. It had been impossible to keep secret the story of her adventure, her rescue and the death of Armstrong. It was natural and inevitable that gossip should have busied itself with her name. It would therefore have been Bomewhat difficult for Mr. Maitland to have withheld his consent to her marriage to a'lmoßt any reputable man who had been thrown so intimately with her, but when the man was so unexceptionably born and bred as Newbold, what had appeared as a more or less disagreeable duty, almost an imperative imposition, became a pleasure! Mr. Maitland was no bad judge of men when his prejudices were not rampant, and he looked with much satisfaction on the fine, clean limbed, clear eyed, vigorous man who was at present suing for his daughter’s hand. Newbold bad shaved off his beard and had cropped close hie mustache; he dressed in the habits of civilization and he was almost metamorphosed. His shyness wore away as he talked and his inherited ease of manner and his birthright of good breeding came back to him and sat easily upon him. ' -J tinder the circumstances the very best thing that could happen would be a marriage between the two, indeed to be quite honest, Mr. Stephen Maitland would have felt that perhaps under any circumstances his daughter could do no better than commit herself to a man like this. - \ - “I shall never attempt,” hfe said at last, “to constrain my daughter. 4 I think I have learned something by my touch with this life here; perhaps we of Philadelphia need a little broadening in airs more free. lam sure that she would never give her hand without her heart, and therefore; she must decide this matter herself. From her own Ups you shall have your answer.” "But you, sir; I confess that I should feel easier and happier H I had yqur sanction and approval.” - “Steve,” said Mr. Robert Maitland, as the other hesitated, not intended to refuse, but because be was loath to say the word that so far as he was concenied would gife his

daughter into another man’s keeping, “I.think you can trust Newbold; there are men who knew him years ago; there is abundant evidence and testimony as to his qualities, I vouch .for him.” “Robert,” answered his brother, "I need no such testimony; the way in which he saved Enid, the way he comported himself during that period of isolation with her, his present bearing —in short, sir,'if a father is ever glad to give away hiß daughter, I might say I should be glad to entrust her to you. I believe you to be a man of honor and a gentleman; your family is almost as old as my own; as for the disparity In our fortunes, I can easily remedy that” Newbold smiled at Enid’s father, but it was a pleasant smile; albeit with a trace of mockery and a trace of triumph In it "Mr; Maitland, I- am more grateful to you than I cap say for your consent and approval which I shall do my best to merit I think I may claim to have won your daughter’s heart; to have added to that your sanction completes my happiness. As for the disparity in our fortunes, while your generosity touches me profoundly, I hardly think that you need be under any uneasiness as to our material welfare.” “What do you mean?” “I am a mining engineer, sir ; I didn’t live five years alone in the. mountains of Colorado for nothing,” “Pray, explain yourself, sir.” “Did you find gold In the hills?” asked Robert Maitland, quicker to understand. “The richest veins on the continent,” answered Newbold. “And nobody knows anything about it?” "Not a soul.” “Have you located the claims?”

“Only one.” “•We’ll go back as soon as the snow melts,” said the younger Maitland, “and take them up. You are Bure?" “Absolutely.” «He means,” said his brother, “that he has discovered gold.” “And silver too,” interposed Newbold. "In unlimited quantities,” continued the other Maitland. “Your daughter will have more mosey, than ’she knows what to do with sir,” smiled Newbold. “God bless me,” exclaimed the Philadelphian. “And that whether she marries me or not, for the richest claim of all is to be taken out In her name,” added her lover. < Mr.' Stephen Maitland shook the other by the hand vigorously. £. *1 congratulate you,” J»e said, “you have beaten me on all points; I must therefore regard you as the most eligible of suitors. Gold in these mountains, well, welll” . « “And may I see your daughter and plead my Sause in person, sir?” asked Newbold.

“Certainly, certainly. Robert; will you oblige me—.ivy. In compliance with his brother’s gesture, Robert Maitland touched the bell and bade the answering" servant ask Miss Maitland to come to the library. " “Now,” said Mr. Stephen Maitland as the servant closed the door, “you and I would leave the young people alone. Eh, Robert?” “By. all means,” answered the younger, and opening the doOr again the two older men went out leaving Newbold alone. “But I don’t quite understand,” queried Mr. Stephan Maitland. He heard a soft step on the stair in the hall without; the gentle swish of a dress as somebody descended from the floor above. A vision appeared in the doorway. Without a movement in opposition, without a word of remonstrance, without a throb of hesitation on her part, he took her in his arms. From the drawing-room opposite, Mr. Robert Maitland softly tiptoed across the hall and closed the library door, neither of the lovers being aware of his action. Often and often -they had longed for each other on the opposite side of a door, and now at last the woman was in the man’s arms and no door rose between them, no barrier kept them apart any longer. There'wah no obligation of loyalty or honor, real or imagined, to separate them now. TJhey had drunk deep of the chalice of courage, they had drained the cup to the very bottom, they had shown each other that though love was the greatest of passions, honor and loyalty were 1 the most powerful of forces, and now they reaped the reward of their abnegation And devotion. »• At last the woman gave herself up to him in complete and entire abandonment without fear and without reproach ; and at last the man took what was his own without the shadow of a reservation. She shrank from no pressure of hiß arms, she turned her face away from no touch of his lips. They two had proved their right to surrender by their ability to conquer. Speech was hardly necessary between them, and it was not for a long time that coherent words came. Little murmurs of endearment, little passionate whispers of a beloved name — these were enough then. When he could find strength,to deny himself a little and to hold her at arm's length and look at her, he found her paler, thinner and more delicate than when ,he had seen her in the mountains. Sheiiad on some witching creation of pale blue and silver; he didn’t know what it was; he didn’t

care-—it made her only more iike an angel'to him than ever. She found him, too, greatly changed and highly approved the alterations in. his appearance. ; . “Why, Will,” she said at last, “I never realized what a handsome man you were.” He laughed at her. “I always knew you were the most beautiful woman on earth.” . “Oh, yes, doubtless when I was the only one.” “And if there were millions you would still J>e the only one. But it isn’t for your beauty alone that I love you. You knew all the time that my fight against loving you was based upon a misinterpretation, a mistake; yon didn’t tell me because you were thoughtful of a poor Woman.” “Should I have told you?” _ “No. I have thought it all out I was loyal through a mistake, but you wouldn’t betray a dead sister; you would save her reputation in the mind of the one being that remembered her, at the expense of your Own happiness. And if there were nothing else I could love you for that,”

“And is there anything else?" asked she who would fain be loved for other qualities. "Everything," he answered, Rapturously drawing her once more to his heart. "I knew that there would be some way,” answered the satisfied woman softly after a little space; “love like ours is not born to fall short of the completest happiness. Oh, how fortu nate for me was that idle impulse that turned me up the canon instead of down, for if it had not been for that there would have been no meeting—” She stopped suddenly, her face aflame at the thought of the conditions of that meeting; she must needs hide her face on his shoulder. - He laughed gayly. .• y ~ “My {lttle spirit of the fountain, my love, my wife that is to be! Did you

know that your father had done me the honor to give me your hand, subject to the condition that your heart goes with it?” “You took that first,” answered the woman looking up at him again. There was, a knock on the door. Without waiting for permission it was opened; this time three men entered, for old Kirkby had joined the group. The blushing Enid made an impulsive movement to tear herself away from Newbold’s arms, but he shamefully held her close. The three men looked at the two lovers solemnly for a moment and then broke into laughter. It was Kirkby who spoke first. “I hear as how you found gold ill them mountains, Mr. Newbold.” “I found something far more valuable than all the gold in Colorado in these moutnains,” answered the other. “And what was that?” asked the old frontiersman, curiously and innocently. “This!” answered Newbold as he kissed the girl again. (THE END.)

“Do You by Any Chance Belong to the Maryland Newbolds, Sir?”

He Shamefully Held Her Close.