HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Herald, 1910-06-03, Page 7gee ereemeterehieser
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CHAPTER XIV.
Nine o'clock. Falconer St. Maur pac
ed to and fro his spacious apartment in
a restless impatience that grew mor
unbearable every minute. Wild warfare
raged 'within mice more.
She would be under his roof with hint
as of old --years ago; and how how
could he. let her go?—how could she
leave him, or tear herself away ? She
must yield to his persuasions—his pow-
er over her now i
Then he stopped at his secretaire, un-
locked a drawer, took up the packet of
notes his uncle had given him, and put
it into his breast -pocket, then stood lis-
tening, his heart beating almost pain-
fully as a hand touched the door.
It opened, and Eahmnee's voice said:
"The sahib is hero ! !" as a graceful fig-.
ur !e passed in, throwing off disguising
mantle, veil, and cap the moment the
door quietly closed again.
St. Maur took two quick steps for-
ward, and Christine was in his arms—
brow, and cheek, and tender mouth cov-
ered with his kisses.
" .£y precious one, my darling, back to
your right place under my roof, my
home, your shelter !"
He felt her tremble as he loosed his
clasp and drew her to his side on th
couch.
"For an hour or two—yes!" she whis-
pered.
"And then," said Falconer, slowly,
"darkness, blank desolation for both of
us."
"Yes—heart-breaking torture!" Her
low, soft tone shook. "And only your
Band can end it!"
"Can it?" he said, with a kind of
fierce despair that startled her. "It is
just that question which L wanted you
here to fully understand. The whole sum
is wrong in the first figure; for the
very first time I met you on the river
and you told me your name, I knew who
you were, and that I could not openly
wed Leonora Berenger's child while
my uncle lived. I ought never to have
looked on your witching beauty again;
but I could not—would not tear' my-
self away. I yielded to my own will and
passions, and married you secretly. I
was a gambler—or something very near
it— even then was indebted consider-
ably. Well, you knew, learned all that
in the first six months; and it's ten
times worse now, in all these
miserable, reckless years. I owe
"Moriey, the money -lender, more than-
-sands than I can tell you exactly—more
than I know myself off -hand, at any
time, because it varies, When I have
a f ran oluck, I clear off sennet; when
fortune is against me heavily, I go to
.him again."
"Of course at ruinous interest?" said
the listener, her slender hands locked
before her on her lap.
"Nay; it would be unjust of me to
say 'yes' to that. Very high interest,
certainly; but then he has absolutely no
security but an inheritance which de-
pends entirely on my not offending my
uncle, and on the faith of that under-
standing only Morley has advanced his
stoney. I may say that tacitly my
honor is involved, if not so far as
actually pledged, not to destroy his
security by any deliberate act of my
own. Against the chances of my death
--and I've near getting it many a time
—he holds a heavy policy of insurance,
though that doesn't saver half my lia-
bilities; but for my living he holds none,
except by good faith and William Orde's
'will. If that one flimsy security, such
as only a money -lender would take for
the sake of high interest, is swept away,
'what then? He may even charge mewith dealing dishonorably with him;
he. will certainly be exasperated at
losing his thousands, and sue inc.' He
got up, and began walking to and fro
near his wife, passing and repassing her.
•"Be has been very easy and kind,
and has even a strange, unaccountable
'liking for his worthless client. But that
wont snake a man lose so heavily for
nothing, will it? It is not human'nature."
"No—not human nature. Well?"
"Well?" he repeated, desperately. "I
tell you, Christine, that your terms of
-reunion may mean ruin—black ruin!
'That sounds harsh, but it's plain truth.
I have been brought up— spoiled, in-
• duiged, if you will—in wealth and ex-
travagance unchecked. It is too late
-now, and nearly two -and -thirty, to
revolutionize all nature and habit. I
'have no profession—never been made to
work—e would to Heaven I had—and I
.could never plod dad plod on day after
day, just to earn a paltry pittance for
daily bread—no, not even with you at
my side! I should go mad—mad—break
'lease! The ready means of quick gains,
with excitement for toil, would be ever
'‘'in my sight. Hand of skill, the tempter,
the passion for play, would master me
again of I had abandoned it, and I
should be a more desperate gambler than
w
•
before—crushed, rneddened by the load
of debts that nothing honest can now
clear, And one of your conditions was
to .give up play—as if there is much else
e I live and spend by for years. I cannot
giveit up, and fortune too. I could not
make head against a poverty weighted
with debt. It would drive me straight
to perdition—faster even than I am
going now, if that is possible. I wish
I were ,dead—Heaven! I wish I were
dead, for your sake-'
"Hupsband 1"
The passion of excitement and despair
had reached a climax, and that one
tremulous word, piercing the wounded
heart like a knife, gave vent for the
fevered blood.
He flung himself on his knees beside
Christine, wound his arms about her
waist almost convulsively, and buried
his face in her bosom, hot tears falling
on her white bare throat.
"I do! I do! I am only a misery to
myself, and you, whom I Iove more than
life a thousand times! It is all sin
and shame to me and all I touch. Why
wasn't I drowned last autumn in the
gale? You would have been free then!"
"Hu=h, Falconer! Husband, you break
my heart!' she caid, bowing her own
pure face to the stricken, sinful ]read,
her clinging hand pressing it closer
against her breast. "Dearer to me in
sin and shame than when my girlish
ignorance knew nothing of either. Don't
talk of death for you. I cannot bear
His clasp tightened around her, but
he kept his face hidden in its restines-
place for minutes, till he could master
the passion of emotion that had shaken
Bins to the centre, like a reed shaken by
a strong wind. Then she felt his warm
lips hiss the soft, bare throat, left un-
covered by the pretty square -cut dress,
and he lifted himself back to his former
place at her side, still keeping her with-
in his embrace, dropping the dark head
on her shoulder like a sorrowful, tired -
out child; only that here, for the child's
innocence, there was the man's sin and
hitter trouble, and the infinite pothae.
of the man's silent appeal to the wo-
mans love, and the woman's moral
strength and help, so eloquent in its
voiceless language, that when the loving
woman, loyal to honor and him, could
speak at all, she snswered it as if he
had spoken itt word,
"Yes, darling, I know how hard it is
to make even the first slight break in
such a mesh of iron chains. I fully
understand now how you are involved,
and at least for the present I will not
urge you to yield to my terns, nor
will I yield to yours for your sake. If
I lived with you again as I did before,
it would be—and you know it, dearest
one—to veil honor for love, principle for
passion, and so strike with my own
hand the death -blow to the very core
of your strong, deep love, that has hith-
erto outlived all storms and tempta-
tions, however sontetibes shadowed.
You know well the absolute truth of
Lovelace's noble sentiment, and that the
key -note of your love for me, and its
power in Heaven's mercy to save you, is
the honor—the reverence, shall I dare
say? -out of which ail its harmonies
and melodies have gown,"
" Ciehieh nothing can touch," St. Maur
said, hoarsely; "nothing can lessen my
worshipping love, my deep reverence.
You are my wife, whatever the outward
seeming."
Tenderly, caressingly putting back the
dark, wavy locks front his brow with her
free hand, he held the other fast, Chris-
tine answering steadily:
"Yes, and because 1 keep the honor of
that name unstained by a breath, 1 hold
your love in strength and purity undim-
med. Bot if I now deliberately put the
honor of my wifehood toiler yours and
the world's feet—"
"Christine----"
"Hnslt! heat• me—and whether in re-
tirement, or, as before, in the vortex of
an equivocal society, live with you prac-
tically as less than your wife, you would
gradually, insensibly, but only too surely,
change to lie; the reverence of your
love would be dinemed, then both slowly,
subtlely, lessen and change, till the first
were well-nigh replaced by half -despising,
and the latter almost sink to the charac-
ter worthy only of what I seemed; for
,as I, the woman, sunk, so surely would
you, the nian. In ;your heart you know
1 am right; but if I am stabbing you,
it is with a two-edged sword that pierces
my own breast, too."
"I know it," he whispered, brokenly—
"my worshipped wife, I know itl"
Still the soft fingers toughed his brow
as the mellow tones, deep with intense,
suppressed feeling, went on:
"Moreover, if I yield to you you would
gain your object without striking a blow
for it, get possesion without paying the
price for it; and the one, the strongest
incentive to warfare against your bitter
enemy and mine, would be gone."
"No, no I". Falconer broke in, eagerly,
and flushing hotly, "With you by me I
could, I would strive with double
strength; the incentive would still be
there to fight for your sake,"
She shook her head sadly.
"I know you better than you do your-
self, Falconer, and the hold the eruel vice
has gained. You would have grasped
the prize---myself—and, insensibly; you
would give back in the battle, and, you
will reeognize the truth of this when
you can face it tniblinded by the pars=
sionatte yearning to have me back et any
price. .n,h, husbafdl it is quite es hard
for me to refuse to return as for you to
be refused; but yon will lay lanee in
rest, however lightly at first, just for
my take, if for nee higher atm yet,"
"Chriettee--eelhn' .:.:. -1.- -
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woman as you,love .me still? se utterly
unworthy, so lost—a gambler, acid the
demon is in nee, brain, and body, and soul,
past casting out, I fear!"
"Never! That were to doubt Heaven
and the redemption," said Christine,
strongly. "You are not utterly unwor-
thy, not lest, not 'wholly given over to
this demon of play, else I hard not loved
you as I do, There is goldtinder all the
dross, and It is that which I found out
and loved you for. You can strive:, and
you will, if it is but the smallest, most
trifling step at first—a stake lowered in..
stead of raise, the tables deserted an
hour sooner than usual, and with each
slight victory the next grows less hard
to win. You will be tempted and yield
often, fall back a hundred times, mad-
dened by loss or spurred en by succe.ss,
the more because you say to yourself,
I live by it, I must play -ay, in the
gayest excitement that you despise even
while you crave its, false glamor. You
will forget your Christine, and then. be
wild with remorse afterward that you
have fallen back. You see; I see all and
spare not the knife;. but then, in your
darkest hours, husband, see me or write
to me; but never—never fear for shame's
sake to face me—a Tibormortal like
yourself—a sinner like yourself before
the perfect Creator!"
"You a ""sinner!" exclaimed St. Maur,
vehemently; and lifting his head quickly
to gaze' upon her face with glowing eyes,
half lover's, half devotee's, before a
saint; "you --you are perfect to me, at
least."
"Oh, Falconer, Falconer!"
"My Saint Ohristine!" he whispered,
laying Itis cheek against hers with a
kind of passionate tenderness, "for your
dear sake I will strive, even at thie elev.
enth hour, to be at least less reckless at
play --I dare not promise more, my dear
wi"
tf"Afe.nd your wife asks no more," she
answered, gently,
For some nteuees neither spoke nor
moved, till Falconer suddenly remember-
ed the bank -notes. IIe`drew forth the
packet and put it into Christine's hand.
smiling now at her questioning Iook of
surprise.
"It is a roll of notes," he said, quietly
—`two hundred pounds. levant yen to
take it and nae it; it's far better fn your
hands than mine." '
"But, Falconer, I don't understand,"
she said, a little hurriedly, -.her color xis-
ing painfully. "1 don't want money!'
"Whether you do or t,e 4eveetheart,
you can take it foil e hued:mud; it
is not moneyo
n n at' -Seaming fable
of the race coarse. It is r-presen�Uncle
Will would give me when he carne up,.
and I told. him it should be well spent;.
so take it; it's what 1 meant 'when 1
spoke."
n, no, Fele, take it back; indeed I
don't want money. and --you may."
Ile put her hand back, half smiling,
but coloring as he said:
"I do not—keep it, child; it mill onto
go perhaps in that accursed' play if I
have 'its keep it safe ---so," He took it
from her hand end put it into the bosons
of her dress. "Use it, dearest, if only
to give me pleasure."
"Ah, Dale. you have not forgotten
your persuasive arts."
"And you, sweetheart, never needed
any at all," he said, smiling down on
the beautiful face. "But tell moo now of
yourself since we --since your Aunt
Stanhope's death; tell me in detail, and
especially how you came across these
Cliffords?"
".Ah, thereby hangs a tale. Falconer;
for to Dr, Clifford's skill and generous
care I partly owe my life last Septem-
ber—partly to him and partly -firstly,
indeed, to the daring courage of a man I
would give—ah, how much! --to discover
and thank, for he flung away his own
ONE WOMAN'S
STA'EMENT
Tells Her Suffering Sisters to
Use Dodd's Kidney Pills.
They Proved a Blessing to Her When
Her Pains and Weakness Wore Al-
most More Than She Could Bear.
St. George, Man., May 30. ---(Special,)
—Hoping to save her sister wonon in
the West from pains and aches which
come at the critical times in a woman's
life, Mrs. Arsene Vinet, of this place,
has given the following statement for
publication: •
"I have brought up a large fancily and
have always enjoyed good health until
the last two years. I am fifty-four
years of age and at the critical time of
life that conies to every woman, I had
pains in my right hip and shoulder. I
could not lie down two minutes at a
time without suffering the greatest
agony. Sometimes 1 awakened with a
feeling as if some one had laid a piece
of ice on my head. Another time it
would be a burning pain ander the left
shoulder.
"I took many mediebies, but could get
no relief, till reading of mires of similar
eases to my own by Dodd's Kidney Pills,
led me to try them. They did wonders
for me,
"I want ell women to know 'what
Dedd's Kidney Pills did for me."
Dodd's I£idney Pills cure the. Kiclneys.
The woman who has sound hidheys
safeguarded against nine -tenths of the ton,c;ne, "1)00 short half hour snore,
life, so far as he .:new, to save thine, an
unknown nobody, a stranger."
"Christine, your pre e Sous lite in -peril!
and I not there to save. it! Oh!' he snid,
turning aside, "Ibis- is bitter punishment
Indeed, deeply grateful though 1 must
be to the mass who was see blessed. Go
on; tell me how it was,"
I3is hand was gripping hers -with a
force he was scarcely conscious Of; his
other he kept half shading his eyeseHer
very first words shade hits start ,anci
eatolt his breath; but he controlled him-
self instantly. with a strong effort.
"I was shipwrecked in the last soul
wildest of the September gales. 1 had
been stranded in New York, and to get
to England shipped aboard the Iced Star
liner Undine, as stewardess; we had a
terribly bad passage, and in the Chan-
nel caught the gale—the worst 1 have
ever been in; the fires were swamped
out, the steering -gear damaged, and we
drove helplessly on to a lee shore. The
skipper and 1 and four sten were the
last to leave the vessel in th gig, and
she was capsized. I remember clutching
a piece of wood. and striking out, and
that is all, except those tern awful min-
utes which only the drowned know. They
told me afterward that this gentleman
had already gone out in the lifeboat,
and after that saw a woman drowning
—that they tried to keep him back, cry-
ing that it was certain death; bet he
threw them fiercely back, saying, 'his
life was worthless,' and filing himself in-
to that raging sea. Ah, it is such noble
deeds as that which—"
"Hush! no mare!" And halconer
dropped his hand to lock that too in
hers, and faced Iter with passionate joy
in his eyes. "It was I—oh! thank heaven!
—it was I wito saved your priceless life
--my wife—my love!"
"Falconer!" She almost threw herself
on his breast,• too deeply agitated for
many moments for one word save that
dear name.
Nor was he less moved, but held her
folded in his amts, each soul living over
again that awful night of peril; he, per-
haps. with the inward cry: .
"Olt. if I had but known it then! I
haelwon you back—all 'mine 1"
Yet he spoke first, almost in a whis-
per:
"My heart sprung to the truth of this
happiness the moment you spoke of the
shipwreck in last September's gate; it
was of that night 1 thought when 1 said
they hacl better have let me drown.
Heaven forgive me for the words; but if
1 had known— Oh! Christine—Chris-
tine! if 1 could have my life to live
over again! ---if I could only blot out the
past!"
How often has that vain cry of an-
guish gone up to heaven, and who can
undo that which is done? liven the fa-
bled waters of a Teethe can only give a
darkened obiivien •by destroying mem-
or': they can not wash away the deeds
that are graven hi stone!
-"We can never Co that," she said,
softly; "but we can atone. And you will
try again. my heart's dearest, I knew!:'
He stooped and kissed her lips rever-
ently—a. worshipper at the shrine of his
saint.
"Now, tell me of your life, Christine,"
he said, presently; and listened in sil-
ence—he could bare listened forever to
the sweet music of that low, tender
voice.
"And so," sin' ended at length, with
her present position, "that is how I
came to the Ciiffords'. One thing more
1 must tell you; Falconer, cruel pain
titmigh it is to tie. On her death -bed
my aunt told me, without the name of
the lover, the truth about my mother's
treatment of Mr. Orde—"
"Lot me snare you. dr.rling," inter-
rmcpt.cd St. 3laur, quickly. "'Uncle Will
told me early this morning as we drove
home, I had not known before how
cruelly she had deceived .him—how bad
it bad all been—and .1 can scarcely
wonder et bis implacability.. My dear,
1 feor -he will never relent unless by
almost a miracle; the more that now,
nithappily, he. has taken a fancy to
Blanche Leroy as a prospective niece -in-
law. T could laugh at the comedy of
the idea—T, married so long --if it did
not vex; the only use of the notion is,
that I ran make use of it to see more
of you under cover of a careless flirta-
tine with -that little flirt."
"No, Falconer, not that; Bin nolo
needs no aid to make her flirt, for since
she has been nut store, Mel admired and
taught -••-•the 'pretty heiress' ---she has
"shown to my watchful notice that, with-
out being so overly a flirt as many
girls, • she is exactly one who, if the
likes, snakes sten flirt to the top of her
bent. I saw her last night. You are
handsome, attractive, heir to a rich man
(she is not indifferent to teeet), and she
flirted with yen as desperately as she
dared. She is ynnng, vain, pretty, flat-
tered, dazed and intoxicated with the
frothing abampagne of her first season;
but not heartless, though not d. ep-
nattired--not like Mimic ---and you are
too reeldess; you may go too far, and
turn her head."
"Faith, sweet wife, I'll try to keep
off that shoal;' for I don't want Clifford
to be asking too smelt about me; he
rvouldnt hear enough to •my advantage.
If I judge him right, I should not have
one chance if I were free, and wooed
either niece or slaughter—that is, if I
asked hint first," he added, eharaeteris-
tically. •"12 bliss Stanhope had opposed
me when •I told her I meant to have
you. I should have castled you oft,"
"Falconer! Falconer! how wicked you
are," said Christine, obliged to laugh.
the speech was exactly. like the reekleto
dominant -willed lover site had always
known, who hoe wooed and won her so
inesterly eight metre ago. "But 1 sup-
pose you would if I feel( said, 'No ---wait,'
Thyaele. See how late it is; I trust go,
dear Falconer."
"No, no; not yet; Al, don't leave net:
art t• is hard. so •ernol to .part -•--for
both,"he pleaded, Itis beanl:iful eyes
more eloquent even than his golden
DIZZY SPELLS,
HEADACHES
A Sufferer of Twenty Years Cotes
Forward With a Real Cure.
•
"I can't zem•ember any time during
the past 20 years'when my head wasn't
aching. If I bent over, dark specks
would come before my eyes, and'it seem-
ed as if all the blood in my body wanted
to rush. to the head." Thus opens the let-
ter of Mee. Enoch S. Spry, of Putnam
P. 0„ and continuing her interesting
statement she says: "Work or exertieu
made my heart beat terrible, and go-
ing up stairs caused such shortness of
breath that it fairly frightened me. els'
dootor told me that it was poisons in
the blood and if that was the onuse Dr.
Hamilton's Pills are the greatest blood
renewer on earth. I tell you how I feel
to -day and you can understand what a
great cure Dr. Hamilton's Pills have
made•. I feel strong enough now to work
like a man, as for going upstairs on the
run, it doesn't bother inc at all. I eat
and sleep as any well person ought, and
as for dizziness which used to frighten
me so mueh, it has entirely disappeared.
I)r. Hamilton's Pills are a wonderful
woman's medicine. They helped me, in
other ways too, and I know every wo-
man that uses them will have comfort
and good health." Refuse anything of-
fered you instead of Dr. Hamilton's Pills
of Mandrake and Butternut, 25o per box.
Alll dealers or. The Cata,rrhozone Co.,
Kingston, Ont.
What woman who loved could have;
resisted him? She stayed the 'fish half
hour, and then he took her info his arms
and their lips met with one accord in
that "sweet sorrow"—the close, parting
embrace; the long, parting kiss.
Then at last the man released her,
and summoner] the Indian to escort her
into a cab.
How blank the room was when
vas gone—the star of his night!,
(To be continued.)
She
Coaeridge's Stick.
Of walking sticks there is no end. Ws
have heard of Mr. Haldane's cordite one
and now we read of a stick in the Guest
collection at Christie's which belonged
to the very last 'Bond street watchman.
For interesting sticks however the one
which Coleridge was in the habit of los-
ing during his tramping days must take
first place. The philosopher was never
happy till he had got it back. He sent
the crier round. Here is the cry, as not-
ed by Mr. Lucas in, one of his essays:
"Missing, a curious walking stick. On
one side it displays the head of an
eagle, the eyes of which represent ris-
ing suns, and the ears Turi;d& crescents;
on the other side is the portrait of the
owner in woodwork. Around the mace
is a Queen Elizabeth's ruff in tin. All
down it waves the line of beauty in vert
ugly carving."
And then came the appeal and warn.
ing note "If any gentleman (or lady]
has fallen in love with the above des
cribed stip kand secretly carried off the
tinuance of which must prove fatal to
same he (or she) is hereby earnestly ad-
monished to conquer a passion the con -
his (or her) honesty. And if the said
stick has slipped into such a gentleman's
(or lady's) hand through inadvertence
he (or she) is requested to rectify the
mistake with all convenient speed. God
sa re the Hing !" The stick came back —
F• one the London Chronicle.
vVO S OF WOMANHOOD
' eakness and Suffering Banishes!
by Dr, Williams' Pink Pills,
Dr. Williams' Pink Pills are good fax
rues and women, and growing boys Anil
girls, but they are good in a special way
for woman. At special times a woman
needs a medicine to enrich and regulate
her blood 'supply, or her life will be one
round of suffering. That is when Dr
Williame' Pink Pills are worth their
weight in gold, for they actually make
n,•w blood. '''here !s not a month in lies
life from fifteen to fifty that Dr. Wil.
Mints' Pink Pills are not a boon to every
vomttn. They help the growing girl •
safely over the critical time when her
blood is overtaxed by new demands. To
the woman of middle ]ifs they bring re-
lief and bring her strength for her time
of change. And during the thirty odd
years that Iie between, Dr. Williams'
Pink Pills fill a woman's life with the
ltappinses of health, giving iter strength
and energy for every function. A wo-
man's surest protection against all the
ills that come. to her because of her sox,
is to set her blood right at once by a
course of Dr. Wiliianus' .Pink Pills --end
then to keep the blood right by taking
the Piiks oecasionally. Mrs. Eliza, Clou•
Lhier, St. Jerome, Que., is one of the
many unfortunate sufferers restoredto
health by Dr. Williams' .fink fines. She
says: "It would be difficult for me to
say how mach I suffered. I was tor.
merited by headaches and backaches, my
appetite failed and I wasted away to
senile an extent that 1 was unable to de
house work. I was conettnt'iy taking
medicine, but it did not help sue any.
One day a friend urged :rte to try Dr.
WiilianJt' Pink Pills, and 1 procured
0 coup:o of boxes. 13y the time these
Were done 1 felt some improvement, ;and,
I hus rncouraged, 1 cnntinueai the usai al
the Pills, gaining strength slay by day,
until after I had taken stir or sevel
boxes, I was again well and strong, ;tnel
T have since doontinued in the lasts at
beeltlt. 1 can 'strongly r'eotnmeest these
Pills to all weak and ailing women."
Sold by all niedieine le eters or asp tna!1 . -.._ .