Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 38, Number 83, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 July 1906 — One Man’s Evil [ARTICLE]

One Man’s Evil

By EFFIE ROWLAND

CHARTER XV V— (Continued.) The woman «at down and stared at the Bat, white envelope,) that was to lie the ■ (price of her freedom. Suddenly Sylvia •turned. She held in her hand a small, •old-fashioned picture. , _ “ “That was how I looked twenty-two iyears ago, George Stanton,” she said. “You will find no hardness, no selfishness tin that girt’s face. I started Ufa humIbly, if you will; but at least theri was •purity and honesty surrounding me. Many have tried to search out my origin and few have succeeded. I have been too •careful for that. It was not of myae.lf 1 thought so much. Jtut of those who, in tba long ago. belonged to me and eherish «d me. XRte' never gpbfceS to si ttvTag' ■oyl of Mat past 1- till, now; but as we, stand on the brink of becoming man and wife, I am driven to look back on that past. Something of my old self sorms-to ; <Ty aloud against what yon would have <ne do. I havejpevwr willingly stooped to crime. See, this picture represents my aoul.' In those drtjs 1 was ns white as a lily. Swear to me on this,, picture that thia money came to you by no evil means, and I will take you for my husband." Advancing toward her, he took the picture she held and pressed it to his lips. "I swe-ar to you.” he said, thickly, “that this money has come to me honorably?-’ The next moment she lay in Stanton’s arms, but the. lips he kissed were unresponsive, and he knew that though he-had stained bis soul to win this woman, she would never really be his.

CHAPTER XUI. Antonia had gfvcfi very littie thought to bar uncle's wife in these long, sad, anxious days, and she was almost startled on the afternoon following that meeting with Gerald: when a little note was brought to her with the message that Lady Betty Marchmont was waiting be low in her carriage, and desiyed to see Jhfcr. The girt's ?fir&t_JnsrincL :waa to re fuse the request. .' «' •• But even while she paused. Lady Charlotte's maid came to tell her that Lady Betty had left her carriage, and had tak~en It for granted that Antonia would oee her; it would be, therefore, itnpossible for tb« girl to avoid going down Lady Betty, to carry through her plans as regard" Gerald, however, had to play a role with Antonia. Therefore she began to probe Antonia delicately. ‘There is something written in your ■face that seems to tell me you are still troubled, that the news that caused you to quarrel With your father is still the same. “Hubert is still missing." answered Antonia ; “for five long days he has been lost to us. You remember that 1 spoke to you of. this faithful friend of his; it is Ben who has been searching; yet we cannot find a traoe of Hubert." “Oh ! you must have help!" cried I»ady Betty. "This is not the matter for an amateur: you must have professional aid. You ought to have had detectives from the very beginning." “It is this suspense, this uncertainty." Antonia said, in a low. suffering voice, “that kills slowly.” “You must hoi*e always, dear; I am sure you are passing through a very hard time; but, believe me, it will come to an end —a happy end, 1 mean." At that moment the door was opened. *nd one of the maids appeared; "Sir Gerald Tenby wishes to know, miss, 1f you will speak to him for a few minutes." Betty Marchmont turned very pale. She seemed to tremble from lic.-nl to foot. This watt K confirmation of what she had imagined: but she found that the truth was very unpalatable. Antonia had said one word only as the maid gave her this message. "Impossible!” fell from Iter-I+ps. and then she qiaused and hesitated. Back to her memory eame the task she had set herself; the acute necessity of ob taining informaTibn about Hubert, .no matter at what exist to herself. Before she could si>eak, however. Lady Betty had sprung to her fhet. “1 will see Sir Gerald for you. Antonia,” she said, hurriedly; ■“you really are not fit to see any one. Let me explain to him that you are ill." A slight frown contracted Antonia’s brows. Once again there Wished over her mind that strong feeling of distrust for this other woman. Her manner was at its coldest as she sjwike in answer: “There is no need to burden yourself with this errand.” she said, "unless, of course, you wish to sjieak to Sir Gerald yourself." But Lady Betty was already; half out of the room. maid." she said, and site passixl d uvn tin* staircase with an excitement thrilling her. Gerald was waiting on the doorstep, He had refused to enter the house until he knew that Antonia, would see him. 1 I is. face was very dark as he turned <ti.! L-n----|y and saw Betty Marchmont evmiitg. toward him. She saw tie expression, and resented it bitterly: h«t this was too good an opportunity to be lost. She made full demand on her \subtlety. “He does want to see the.*' she said to herself. )“l will punish him for this. I regret tqi say. Sir Gerald." she said, aloud, “that Antonia is not well enough to see you. just leaving her. and' she begged me to convey |his message to yon. She was quick to note that a kind of relief flitted across his face as he heard her voice. She . had managed to convey •o much in her tone, and to carry out this effect to a more successful issue, she without another word ; but Gerald stopped "Pray forgive me. Lady Betty,” he said. •7 have a great weight on my conscience,

"■frnff S"Thobaafid to makFTb you. Would it be possible for ns to apeak together for a little while’?* He glanced at her carriage as he spoke,! but though' she was elated beyond hieaaure at her success, Lady Hetty played now the part of .prudence tn perfection. Sh«* ignored his suggestion that she should ask him to drive with her. “I am going to the parkin about half an.hour’s time,” she said, coldly; "perhaps we might find an .opportunity of speaking for a few minutes there," and. bending her head, she went forward, and sat in her viotoria. lie found Ins way to the park, and soon .located., Lady, Betty. "Let us "W' said, indicating Two placed under 4he grateful shade of the trees some little distance away from the crowd. Gerald helped her to alight, and they strolled over the piss together. She felt that he was playing a part, anti she won-» dered what truth he wa* trying to hide. While he was endeavoring to make flowery little speeches to her. she broke in upon them abruptly. “I dotr*t want any -more excuses,” she said. "You cannot put aside the fact that you treated me wry rudely." I don’t think there are mfiny women who would have done what 1 did the other day, to go by myself to your rooms simply for the purposeof warning you." The smtie Imd troz.cn on Gerald Tenby’s lips. Bis face was now quiet and set. He had himself well in hand, and yet somehow Lady Betty's eyes disconcerted him. ’

“To warn me I” he said, in. accents of profound surprise. “I*ear Lady Betty, this is most mysterious I I don’t understand.” ” "Of Vourse ivouhdoS’F Hb.w "coiiTfl" ydii,'~ir''you”Md hot Fndw'TvßaF’lias'' hajipened? I tried to explain in my letters that I wanted to see you, not for a personal matter, but I got no answer.” “I havc told you,” th-rald said, hurriedly, “that I only received all your letters at once.’' - "I don’t know why. or how, you did not receive mv letters.” site said, with touch of peevishness. "I should not have troubled about you at all ; but I thought you were my friend; but. of Course, you must have known that 1 called at .your chambers That odious man you haveengaged as your secretary must have told you that he met me at your door.” Sir Gerald shook his head. "Stanton told me something about meeting a Jady on the stairs, but he gave me to understand that it was a stranger to him. How could I have possibly imagined that you would have come?” Gerald tried to put a tone of affection into his voice. "Won't you tell me now.” he said, pleadingly, "why you troubled yourself about me so mucli?" "Perhaps my information is stale news.” she said. - ‘ ; "Let me hear it.” Gerald answered: hut before Lady Betty could speak a bland voice broke in on their conversation. and George Stanton emerged from behind their chairs. He was faultlessly dressed, and looked what he really was—a handsome and a well bred man —yet had he been a reptile Lady Betty could not have shrunk from him -more winpletely, "Pray forgive me, Lady Betty.” Stanton said, raising his hat ; "but I caught sight of Sir Gerald in the distanre. and as 1 have some important papers for him I was obliged to take this opjMirtunlty of giving them." Lady Bety rose to her feet with a diiiiuiv. —-4-3-

"Will you take me back to my carriage?" she said to Sir Gerald. When he had pnt-Lady Betty into her carriage, and had stood and watched it roll away, he turned and retraced his steps. His face was very pale, and in Jiis eyes there blazed a fierce expression, which was comprehensible enough to Stanton. ' As- the two men spood for a moment side by side. Gerald said : "L‘t us bo clear with each other. Stanton. I refuse to be dogged and spied upon in this , way," Stanton shrugged his shoulders and laughed. "You are not the master to give orders." ho said. "It is as much to my interest as to your own that I should know what you are doing. You art* a bit of a fool, you know. Tenby, if the truth is told. I.<H>k at yoursslf this moment. Why, you cannot control yourself. Here we are with the world looking at you. and you are ready to fly at my throat and make a scene. Take a pull at yourself, man, and bear in mipj one thing; that, whether you like it or whether you don't, 1 mean to keep my eye uiwn you. Come this way. See! take this letter and read It as'tf 'ir wert 1 Kitii-’thhtg very IhlpbTTSntr Already 1 am aetX'pted as your secrejary: that w ill account for our" being together as we now are."

TH APTER XVIII. Gerald Tenby turned upon his companion. There was something wild in his expression—Hub look of an animal at bay; then •the wiblin-xs went, atnl over his face there style that mask that hid all expression. , , - » ' "Say what youMhave to say.” he said. .KuUenly*."anJ.lheil4gt us change the cun.-., versa:ion. 1 am al bit sick of talking always on fli<" samel theme. Cotne, let us walk in the direction of my dub." As they strolled along, speaking apparently in casual fashion. Sylvia Castella [Missed them in her carriage- She noted them frojn a distand l , and her eyes followed tinpn with an interest that was strangely new to her. Neither man looked at her as she went by; and she drew -it drcp hrvarfi of rettrf. Though she stood now pk-dged to marry Stanton, she dreaded the mere thought of being in bis presence. , ' .< , "1 cannot help doubting him.” she Mid

to hemelf, restilwly. “He «wone last night that that ‘money had come to him honorably, yet If would be easy enough'for Tilth to perjure himself. Oh! why was I sucli a fool ns to have any dealings with ‘this man? I>rive tu* to the British Muaeum.’V ahe ordered her coachman. Here in this Jonely place Sylvia seemed tn fee! tiralr the-shadows of coming evening were significant of the coming evening Of her life. Amt as she sat wondering vague!y What had come to pasa^with'her, she noticed a girl walking slowly down the room. The girl wore a long, straight, black gown that fell in folds alxnit her. _ Sylvia recognized at once the proud hearing and the small head, and her approbation went out in a whole-hearted fashion to Antonia's grace and beauty. beat of excitement at hey heart. It was certainly odd that she should have met This girl two days running; and in two such opposite directions,; Sylvia had risen from her seat, and was about to go. • Anothei wioment and she would have passed fAntonia, perhaps never to lie again in such close contact with the girl, when a little accident occurred. Strung around her waist Sylvia wore a gold and jeweled belt; from it dangled many costly and useless objects. One of these small jeweled trifles snapped and fell to the ground as .she rose, rolling to Antonia’s feet. Instantly the girl stooped and picked up the toy,- and turned with a smile to give it to this tall, -beautiful woman, whose face seemed vaguely familiar to her. Sylvia took the trinket, paused an instant. and then, yielding to a rush of feeling such as had not come to her for many a day, and which had been caused by the sight of Antonia's companion the day before, she spoke to the girl. “Please forgive me,” said Sylvia, “but can yon-direct me? I cannot find my way to the entrance.” ■—k——— TtT,..; "If you will allow me, I will take you there. l am on my way out of the museum ; in fact, I think we must be two of the last people left in (he building. Fortunately they know me,” Antonia added. with a faint smile. “I come here very often.” ——— They spoke casually as they walked together through the long room, and something ip the tone of Sylvia’s voice brought back to, Antonia the burr of her native country. She said,this quite frankly. ‘T belie ve 'tha t you come from the Tame' part of the world that I do,” she said. "It is. not a beautiful place, yet I love it very dearly.” "I was born in Lancashire, ’’ Sylvia answered ; "but it. is a long time since I was there. I thought,” she added, hurriedly, "that I had long ago lost the aceent." ~ _.. . - —•! ■—> "Don’t try to lose it,” said Antonia. “I know to Southern ears it has an ugly sound; but to mine J confess there is both music and sweet remembrance in sucn an accent.” They passed on a few yards in silence and then Sylvia seemed to awaken to a sense of duty. ’’ ' ~ "I think I can find my way now,” she said: "it is very kind of you to have taken so much trouble for me. Perhaps I ought to tell you that I am Sylvia Castella, the actress.” “I have heard your name,” said Antonia. gently, "and now I understand why your face seemed familiar to me. Do you come here often. Miss Castilla?” "I hardly know what brought me here to-day.” Then quite abruptly: “Yes, I do know ; I wanted to think quietly to my self. You are very young, and. therefore. you will not understand that there are moments when one has to pause and take stock, as it were, of one's life.” “I am not very old, ce'ftainly,” said .Antonia. with her beautlfuLsmile; "at least, as years are counted, but-I think 1 have grasped already rhe knowledge that there can be great delight and terrible bitterness in life.”. "There is something about you,” said Sylvia, "that makes me speak out frankly. When I saw you coming toward me just "now 1 recognized you. I was sitting under rhe trees in the park yesterday morning when you passed me with your dogs. You were talking to a big, sunburned man. and you seemed both of you to be very sad. I watched you—hot from curiosity, but belanse I was interested in you. I admire you with all my heart. You won’t min’d Im.v saying that, will you? And I thought"—here Stylvia's voice hurried a little —"that the man who was with you looked good.” "Indeed, you are right,” said Antonia. "He is good, simple nad noble. A splendid friend. One whom I honor and love.” "Yet he is a working man,” Sylvia Castella said, with a faint smile on her lips. (To be continued.)