Rensselaer Republican, Volume 27, Number 11, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 November 1894 — A CONDENSED NOVEL. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A CONDENSED NOVEL.

ames Knapp Reeve, in New Orleans TimesDemocrat.

T was a “first night” the curtain was ''about to rise upon '-the third act. At the lend of the second act /the situation was 7this: The hero of £the play had been accused of a great Crime. The officers

were close upon his track, and disgrace and imprisonment were hand in hand with them. A t this point he was alone with the woman he loved. He had told her of all the evils that compassed him and in the same instant had told her of his love. Would She risk all for him, fly with him, give up all else for 'love of him, or would she choose safety, comfort, an : honorable name and home —all of which awaited her acceptance at the hands of another? The curtain had fallen upon the lover appealing, the woman debating. The house remained silent, hushed, almost like a house of death. There were two persons in the orchestra chairs who were watching the play with an intensity of feeling that could hardly be vetted. One was a woman, young, handsome, bearing in every line of her face and figure testimony that she had never known other than the ease and comfort and security that wealth begets. By her side was a man of apparently the same social rank. This was David Osborne, cashier of the —th National Bunk. Thre woman was Eleanor Wheelright, whom many supposed to be his affianced wife. In this, however, they were wrong, as no word of love had yet passed between the two. At the end of the second act Osborne had turned to his companion questionably. “It is rather emotional.” he said. “Are you ready to guess the outcome of all this passion? Will the girlAe a fool and yield to his persuasion?” “I hope so,” Miss Wheelright replied, her tone gentle and sympathetic, “but I shall not call it ‘being -a fool.’ Unless she can give up much for him she does not truly love him.” “Even if he is a criminal?” “That does not alter the fact.” After this they were silent for a little. At last he spoke again, “If you were put to such a test, Eleanor, for the man you loved?” “If I I think I should be equal to it.” Osborne’s face grew a shade more pale as he asked the next question: “Have you seen the evening papers?” “Yes.” “Then you know our bank is in trouble?” “Yes; I read all the account.” “But that did not tell you all. It did not tell you that I am suspected of embezzling the funds.” She sat very still and tvaited for him to go on. “I ought not to have brought~you out to-night, but I could not resist the temptation of spending one more delightful evening with you. 1 knew there would be no public accusation until to-morrow. I could not deny myself these few houx-s.” He spoke very low,-so that his wdi’ds came to her ear in a mere- whisper. “You know that I love you, that I had hoped to make you my wife. I ought to have come out strong enough not to tell you this now. I ought to have waited, but I could not.” Miss Wheelright made no answer, but she put out her hand and touched the sleeve of his coat. It gave him 20u rage. “By morning I may be arrested,” he said, “imprisoned. The amount of the defalcation is very great. If I start soon and at once I may be in Canada by morning, and at least safe from arrest. The train leaves in an hour.” Miss Wheelright’s agitation had been shown only by a nervous plucking at her gloves, One of these had been drawn half off. She began now to draw it on again. She held the hand out to him that he might button it. Then she drew her wraps about her. “Come,” she said, “we shall have no time to lose. Let us go at once.” “Eleanor —where? Horae?” he asked, not understanding her. “No; where you said. There is time.” She had risen to her feet. Osborne rose also, and put out a restraining hand. “Eleanor, think! You may repent,” he said; but even as he spoke he began to move with her toward the exit. As they did this the curtain came upon the third act of the play, and almost involuntarily they paused to see the conclusion of the story which was so much like their own. The officers had just appeared, armed with a warrant for their arrest, and the lover had turned to confront them. The heroine interposed between him and them, and one of the officers spoke to her: “Do not make our task any harder my girl. We have come in time to -ave you wasting yourself on this scoundrel. He has stolen the money >f widows and orphans who have rusted him, and with this had thought to have a golden road to comfort, to wealth and luxury, and indulgence with you. The man will ■iot deny his crime—you can see that rom his face. Do not believe that liis heart can be good, or bis love pure, when he has so wronged others." The girl had sunk down, sobbing and covering he face with her hands, [after one long, searching look upon Iher lover. At this he came toward her appealingly. *

she cried, waving him away; “go; I don’t love you. I was about to yield all for you. It was madness, for you ahe. not worthy of it— It is past now!” *'" At the words of the officer, “He has stolen the money of widows and orphans, and with this had thought to pave a golden road to indulgence with you,” Eleanor Wheelright had looked upon Osborne’s face and read the troth there. * And when the girl cried out, “It was madness; it is past now,” Osborne had looked upon her face and had seen that her own madness also was past. this, he put out his arm to her calmly, ‘ ‘Shall I take you to vour carriage?” be asked. She bowed, and they went out together. A moment later Osborne shut the carriage door between them and went alone up the road of a fugitive—the road that he had carefully paved with stolen gold.