Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, September 23, 1905, Page 8

FALSELY ~ CONDEMNED PUES geal CHAPTER 1I.—(Continued). “No. But I imagine she’s. the wo- man whom you're supposed to have married years ago, and that died.’ 1 suppose now that she did not die?” “You are right!” “Has she any children?” “One—a boy—weak in mind.” An exclamation of horror broke from Guy’s lips. “I cannot go home,” continued Sir George. “My clothes are covered with —with—” 1 I understand,” interrupted Guy. “Yet it’s necessary that you should go home. You cannot let that poor girl-wife of yours continue in her present state of suspense. Mind you, ¢ having to propose what to. It’s dead against my nee to give*you any kelp in the maiter of eluding punishment; but for Hilda's sake Ili do it. Take off your overcoat and fold it so that the in- side aione is visible; then hand. it to me to carry, and I'll lend you the long ulster I'm wearing. You must come home with me_ to Arlington Once you are there you must burn the suit you have on—it’s lucky | it’s winter time and there are fires in } the bedrooms—and I will lend you a suit in which you can return to Carl- ton Park.” ‘Thauk you, thank you.” It was most gratefully said. ‘Don’t thank me; I greatly prefer | your not doing so,” was the sharp and Towers. emphatic rejoinder. “Thanks from you are offensive to me. As soon as we are in the house, and you safely in your bedroom and out of sight, I shall order one of the grooms to get up and go off with a message to Carl- ton Park to say that you have met with a slight accident and have returned home with me to remain until morn- ing. You can say that you caught your foot in an exposed root and fell down, slightly stunning yourself. In- vent whatever lies you like to stop Hilda knowing he truth.” Guy spoke as he would to a dog— a dog for whom he had the greatest antipathy. “Come,” he added sharply. No answer, but in Sir George’s man- ner there was complete acquiescence’ as he moved forward to follow his preserver. They walked a short distance in the wood, then hastily crossed a field and entered a narrow lane. The route they were taking was a circuitous one to Arlington Towers. But it was un- frequented, and for the latter reason Guy selected it. CHAPTER III. Sir George flung off the bedclothes and sprang to the ground. He could not lie still. Inactivity madened him. Thrice he strode up and down the room, then he threw himself into a chair in front of the fire. The room was very cold, as the three large win- dows stood open for the smell of the burning cloth to escape. A few smoul- der in pieces of it still lay on the hearth, and one of these pieces was stained with blood. It attracted his attention, and an instant later was hurled into the center of the large blazing fire. Then the same fate be- fell the other smouldering remnants of the suit in which he had murdered his wife. “Erskine can be trusted to see that every scrap of my overcoat is burnt,” he muttered “No man was ever more scrupulously careful to carry out what- ever he undertakes.” Then, after a pause, he added to himself, “Heavens, how utterly done I feel, and how ut- terly incapable of formulating plans! Plans? There are none that I can formulate! I must continue to live as I have always lived here; try to act as if nothing had ever occurred that could change the current of my exist- ence, and aim at appearing happy and interested in local affairs. I must ‘take my place on the bench as a coun- ty magistrate, attend the meetings of the city council as hitherto, discuss the improvements of the lower class- ‘es and live a life of consummate hy- ‘poerisy. It is the only thing to be done, and I must and shall do it! But it will be awfully hard to talk and laugh with my old Jight-hearted- mess, when I know what is lying in that shallow pit. Any day it may be (discovered. Ah—oh! I never thought ‘of that, but on her may be a letter to me, or proofs of her marriage, or some feference to the child’s parentage— something that may drive home the crime at once. A born villain would fhave thought of searching her. It’s fa pity I'm not one!” A bitter laugh escaped him and his haggard face grew suddenly more haggard. “By Jove, it’s getting daylight. When the sun set last night, I little thought that before it rose again I should be a murderer. It would be wiser, I suppose, to shut the windows, or they will attract attention being open. There cannot be any suggestion of Durning in the air now, I am sure. fErskine warned me to shut them be- Mrs. E. Bagot Harte. fore the servants came down stairs. I wonder what he’s doing?. Sleeping soundly, I expect. How he hates screening me! It’s only for Hilda’s sake that he is doing it. I wonder if he will extract from me any reward for it—any kind of moral payment. I wish I knew what he was doing now —sleeping, or thinking over matters, or—— Anyhow, it’s of no use specu- lating on that subject.” He was right, and Erskine was the very last man to volunteer informa- tion on a matter concerning which his mind was in a state of uncertain- ty. it was Hilda’s life’s happiness and peace on earth that he was aim- ing at securing. One by one possible means of obtaining it arose in his mind and were carefully thought out; but one by one they were cast aside as impossible. “Nothing can ever stamp out the ugly fact that Ellingham is a murder- er,’ he thought to himself, with a look of fierce resentment, “and Hilda not his legal wife and their child with- out the right to bear his father’s name or to inherit his father’s estates. I'll | defy any man to know a thoroughly happy hour, weighed down with the secret of this night’s tragedy. But it’s morning now, and well advanced, too. I wonder what the day will bring forth?” But, contrary to all he feared, it was fated to pass with comparative uneventfulness. Early in the day Hilda arrived at Arlington Towers, and it required the combined efforts of both Sir George and Guy to induce her not to send at once for Dr. Bennett. Guy watched the carriage drive away, or to be more accurate, he watched Hilda. Save for her presence he would not have vouchsafed a glance at the carriage. i “By Jove, how sorry I am for the dear girl,” he exclaimed, mentally. “To see her in that nice turnout, drawn by those thoroughbreds and sit- ting by the side of one of the hand- somest men in the world, makes one almost think that all I know is an im- possibility, and last night’s work only a hideous dream. Heaven grant that she never learns the truth of her po- sition, or hears of that scoundrel’s crime. It’s the best thing to do with ugly questions arising in one’s mind every five minutes, to be answered by a cold chill of fear. I wonder when the woman’s relations will be on her track? Very soon, I expect. Then detectives will appear on the scene, and we, both the murderer and 1, will live in a fever of anxiety, fearing the trath will be discovered. I would, indeed, like to be able to see a year ahead. Oh, no, I wouldn’t! Ten days ahead would be enough. But I'll put an end to this solitude; I'll telegraph asking Reggie to come and stay here.” Nothwithstanding fears to the con- trary, those succeeding ten days pass- ed placidly by. Sir George acted throughout as if he were well, although looking desperately ill. But that look of desperate illness kept Hilda always at his side. “You seem to have quite changed, dearest, since the night of the acci- dent,” she said one day. They were alone. He was cowering over a bright fire; she was standing at his side. “Never make that remark again, Hilda,” he replied, quickly. Instantly she was kneeling down and her arms stealing about his neck and her lips pressed against his face. “Darling, darling, husband mine,” she murmured, gently, caressingly. “You know I would never intentionally say a word to hurt your feelings.” Again she kissed him, and again. “Poor man,” she said gaily. “What it is to have an adoring wife!” “And what it is for that adoration to be returned,” he answered with sudden vehemence, throwing his arms around her and straining her to him with frantic strength. It was only for a moment, this display of love; the next instant he had untwined her arms and risen to his feet. “I will go out for a stroll,” he said. “Tt has cleared up.” Then, as he op- ened the door, he added, “I shan’t be away for more than an hour or two.” In the hall an old man, who had the appearance of being a field laborer, was standing hat ‘in hand, nervously eyeing his luxurious surroundings. “He wants to speak to you, sir,” explaized the footman. “He says he has come a long distance and wants to see you on a very pressing matter, but won’t give his name, sir.” “Show him into my business room,” replied Sir George. A minute later he followed the man and closed the door carefully behind him. “My name is Searle, sir,” began the visitor. “Yes,” said Sir George, taking a seat with its back to the window. He guessed who the old man was. “I hope as you'll excuse my having had the courage to come, sir.” “Yes! What can I do for you?” In a strained voice the question was asked. “['ve come to speak about a daugh- ter of mine, called Margaret. When she was about eighteen she took it ~ za lage where she’d been born and bred, and that the streets up there were paved with gold. So she left me and her mother and got a place as bar- maid, Well, sir, the long and short of it was that she came back one day, and, after a bit, there was a child born. A finer child you’ve never seen, sir, but he’s weak in the head.” “Did she remain at home with you?” hazarded Sir George, quickly, trying to speak as a man to whom time was very precious. “Yes, sir, that were so, thanking you kindly for taking interest in what I’m saying. She bided with us always af- ter that, and she was always trying to keep herself up, as if she were an honest woman. She always called herself Mrs. Williams, and never so much as wrote her name as Margaret Searle. It,was always ‘My name's Williams’ or ‘Mrs. Williams’ or ‘Mar- garet Williams,’ as the case might be.” “However——” began Sir George. Then he ‘stopped speaking abruptly. Fear of the ghastly consequences of committing himself was uppermost in his mind. “Yes, sir,” queried the old man. “It is immaterial what I was going to say. Please continue as briefly and as quickly as you can, although I fail to see why you should have come to me. I presume you consented to your daughter remaining at home?” “Yes, sir; but whenever I looked at her questioning-like, being her father and feeling I had a right to know more, she only gave me a look back as much as to say, ‘I’m a grown wo- man now, and can look after my own affairs.’ For years it just went on like that, my thinkin’ that she weren’t married and she giving out that she were. But, mind you, sir, never halt a word about a real husband did she speak. But my misses, she knew the rights of it. “Well, sir,” continued the old man, in a sadder voice, “a matter of four- teen days ago the doctor says to Mar- garet as how she couldn’t live long, and that made her speak up anxiously about her boy, Harry, as we calls him —but his proper name is George Hen- ry Williams. ‘What’ll become of him? asks she. ‘He'll be put away in a ‘ home with a number of others as are like him,’ answers the doctor. He’s an outspoken man. Then, poor girl, it almost broke my heart to see how she fell to raving and crying; and then —just sudden-like, as if she didn’t mean to say it—out comes your name, sir. So, says I to myself, says I, after she’s gone, I know where to ask for a trifle to keep the child at home on and with me. And, now, sir, when I recollects his face and looks at yours, I know I’ve come to the right quarter.” “But——” began Sir George, at the same moment looking on the floor for something he pretended he had drop- ped, “There now, I’m forgetting to tell you the worst, sir,” interrupted old Searle. “And that is that something’s happened to my poor lass. Last Thursday week she spent the whole day a-tidying of her clothes up; put- ting a bright flower in her bonnet, and a-mending and darning up of her shawl. You see, sir, every penny that she could spare for clothes was spent on Harry’s. So there she sat, hour after hour, d-sewing away, as women do when they’ve set their hearts on looking their best. The next day she comes to me and says she, in a quick- like voice, ‘You'll look after Harry for a couple of days, dad. I'll be back to-morrow night.’ And afore I could answer she were gone, and ” here the old man’s voice quivered painfully, “and I’ve not set eyes on her from that day to this. You'll not have seen her yourself, I suppose, sir?” “I? Good heavens, no! I suppose that what you have been beating about the bush all this time for is money?” “No, sir; not exactly. But I’m a poor man, sir. Then there's no doubting that the child is— is— Begging yer pardon, sir, but I don’t like asking the question straight out.” (To Be Continued.) A BARGAIN’S A BARGAIN. Passion for Marked-Down Goods Strong in Both Sexes. Men ought to cease to rail at wom- en bargain hunters. An evidence of masculine superiority (?) over femi- nine weaknesses in the matter of bar- gains has been on constant public dis- play for the past few days here. A store on Chestnut street where bar- |. gain neckties are displayed has been the gathering place of all the male members of the community who are bent on getting something for very little. 2 Two prominent lawyers and two well known men connected with the board of education were seen one day last week making a mad dash down the street in the direction of this tempting window. Natural surmises suggested that they were bent on im- portant matters connected with edu- cational or municipal affairs. They talked excitedly and gesticulated mad- ly till within sight of the bargain neckties, and then, subdued and smil- ing, they stood outside the window, nervously comparing notes about the relative merits of the neckties for twenty minutes. Then they left the sidewalk and when last seen by a critical and somewhat cynical femi- nine observer were entering the store arm in arm with an undoubted bar- gain expression in their eyes.—Phil- adelphia Record. A College Education, “Now that your son’s in college I suppose he’ll be getting exclusive; he’ll he getting into the 400.” é “Oh, he’s more exclusive than that; he’s on the nine already.”—Philadel- phia Press. . London was a in than the ‘vil-, FAMOUS OLD TAVERN SUTER’S. HOSTELRY AT WASHING TON UNDER THE HAMMER. Insufficient Sum Bid for House Close ly Connected With the Early His. tory of the Capital City—Prominent Men Gathered There. “Will any one give me three thous- and dollars,” ‘said Auctioneer Rat- cliffe, last week, stang@mg in front ot 3101 and 3103 K street, old frame buildings, once, the antiquarians say, famous Suter’s Tavern. No one would, and the propNty was with- drawn. In 1791 John Suter was mine host at the tavern, and here Gen. Washing- ton and Mr. Jefferson on numerous gecasions refreshed themselves. Tra- dition says that Suter imported his whisky from his native Scotland, his rum from Jamaica and his brandy from the London docks. Thomas Jef- ferson, who while minister to France visited the wine countries of Europe and made a selection for his own cel- lar, is said to have declared: “No man on the Atlantic coast could bring out a better bottle of Madeira or sherry than old Suter.” The present buildings do not show the original porch and a story of stuccoed brick has been inserted under the original house to connect it with the changed grade. Suter’s Tavern is particularly noted, however, as a place where the commissioners who laid out Washing- ton city,met frequently. These com- missioners were Thomas Johnson, the chairman, and Chief Justice of Mary- land, Dantel Carroll of Duddington, and brother of Archbishtop Carroll, and Dr. David Stuart, the family physician of the president. Under the date of March, 1791, Gen. Washington notes in his diary: “Left Bladensburg at half past 6 and break- fasted at Georgetown about 8, where, having appointed the commissioners under the residence law, to meet me, I found Mr. Thomas Johnson, one of them (and who is now chief justice of the state), in waiting, and soon after came in David Stuart and Daniel Carroll, Esqs., and others, too. A few miles out of town I was met by the citizens of the place and escorted in by them, dined at Suter’s Tavern, where I also lodged, had a public din- ner given by the mayor and corpora- tions, previous to which I examined the survey of Mr. Ellicott, who had been sent on to lay out the district of ten miles square for the Federal City; also the works of Major l’Enfant, who had been engaged to make a draft of the grounds in the vicinity of George town and Carrollsburg, on the Eastern Branch.” Many a fine dinner was served at Suter’s Tavern, and there was many a congregation there of gentlemen whose -names are indelibly impressed upon the history of that day and whose deliberations resulted in the creation of what Washington was always pleased to call the Federal City, now Washington, the capital of the greatest nation on earth.—Wash- ington Post. A Knotty Problem. She was a fair passenger in search of information, and the captain was, naturally, only too willing to gratify her. He had explained that the action of the propeller forced the ship through the water, and added, as a further item of information:— “We made twenty knots an hour last night, miss.” “Did you really,?” said the sweet girl. “And whatever did you do with them all?” The captain went red, and his eyes dilated. “Threw them overboard,” he said, shortly. “Fancy,” she said. “Now, do you know, I always understood tha. you captains made the poor dear sailors untie all those knots the next day?” Then the skipper hurried away with a groan, plunging his head in a pail of cool water, and kicking the cabin-boy mightily. Natural History. “The moth,” remarked the man who assumes superior knowledge, “has never been credited with the sagacity it really possesses. The moth is an epicure.” “Tt’ll eat anything in sight,” replied his auditor. “That's where you are wrong. It is a creature of taste and discernment. You have observed that it eats holes in your evening clothes and only at- tacks your business suit when there is nothing else.” “which is sheer cussedness.” “Not at all. When you attend a banquet you wear your evening clothes. And the moth’s procedure conclusively demonstrates that it knows the difference between terra- pin and champagne and plain restau- rant soup.”—Washington Star. Pierrette. ty street was gray with dawn, The eraverywhere the lamps burned stifl, ‘As though a dead man’s eyes. stared on ‘Through some undying will. yeemed no ‘more a thing gical fee great door she might not move, d all unanswering, Tagan Digter from rest and love. ning wind, like some pale ghost, Theretted the tavern’s creaking sign, ‘As though it whimpered to the host For sorrow’s anodyne. damply to her dress, a asein site Ustiess., tired ott Tha’ that quest purposeless, oie? unos and down the street. grayed hair's pathetic gold Ang ere fet oar roves: own hand waa ‘And weary she, and very cold, id. Ane Pe Garrison in New York Her- ald. CASTORIA For Infants and Children. The Kind You Have Always Bought Bears the Promotes Digestion Cheerful- Signature ness and Rest.Contains neither f m,Morphine nor Mineral. |} 0. OT NARCOTIC. \Vegetable Preparation for As- similating the Food andRegula- ting the Stomachs and Bowels of INFANIS “CHIL In Use For Over Thirty Years GASTORIA ‘THE CENTAUR COMPANY. NEW YORE CITY. A ect Remed for Constipa- tien Sa Stomach, Diarrhea Worms Convulsions ,Feverish- ness and LOSS OF SLEEP. FacSimile Signature of NEW YORK. Atounonths old 3) Dosis — CrNIS EXACT COPY OF WRAPPER. Made a Difference. Young Actcr—How do you like my Hamlet? Old Stager—Oh, it was your Hamlet, was it? I thought I did not recognize it as Shakespeare’s. WON’T BUY BONI A PAPER. Anna Gould Can Burn Her Money in O ther Ways. All in vain have been Count Boni de Castelline’s pleadings for the pur- chase of the Paris Press. His wife, formerly Miss Anna Gould, still posi- tively refuses to buy it for him and set him up as an editor. The countess is reported to have said that Boni has had too many expensive playthings to weary of and, throw aside, and that she doesn’t propose to risk any more of her money in what she feels is nothing more than a passing whim. The count, much upset by this direful state of things, will make no overtures to end the serious family quarrels it has caused. His wife, he says, is not only withholding shekels but immortal fame, for the Paris Press is a his-| spirit level; Edwin Washburn, Minne- toric paper, which was founded by | apolis, Minn., car coupling. Emil Girardin, and many of Balzac’s rast: REST NGIRP RET CAME STAY novels first appeared in it in serial Truer Politeness, Ferhaps. form. The paper is to be sold because “Why don’t you get up and give that of the failure of its owner, who was, lady your seat?” caught in a recent sugar crash—New “Because she’s elderly, but ‘dresses York Press. like a girl. I’m afraid it would offend — os her.” He’d Want a Harp. The craze for giving and accepting coupons for the purchases of merchan- dise, to be eedeemed by prizes, was given a more or less merited rebuke by Nat C. Goodwin. He bought a bill of goods and the salesman offered him the coupons that the amount of the purchase called for. Mr. Goodwin shook his head. “I don’t want ’em,” he said. “You had better take them, sir,’ persisted the clerk; “we redeem them with very handsome prizes. If you can save up a thousand coupons we give you a grand piano.” “Say, look here,” replied Mr. Goodwin, “if I ever drank enough of your whisky or smoked enough of your cigars to get a thousand of those coupons I wouldn’t want a piano. I'd want a harp.” PATENTS. List of Patents Issued Last Week to Northwestern Inventors. Reported by Lothrop & Johnson, pat- ent lawyers, 911 and 912 Pioneer Press building, St. Paul, Minn.: Alfred Hovey, Cass Lake, Minn., mechanical fan; James Jessen, Minneapolis, Minn., register; John Le Duc, Manka- to, Minn., steam boiler furnace; Claude Mentzer, Albert Lea, Minn., locomo- tive draw bar; Oscar Osmondson, Grand Forks, N. D., measuring tool; Charles Smith, Minneapolis, Minn., Here is Relief for Women. Mother Gray, a nurse in New York, dis- covered a pleasant herb remedy for women’s ills, called AUSTRALIAN-LEAF. Itis the only certain monthly regulator. Cures female weaknesses, Backache, Kidney and Urinary troubles. At all A gee or by mail 50 cts. Sample mailed FREE. Address, The Mother Gray Co., LeRoy, N. Y. Still Useful. “Father,” said an inquiring youth, “when a hen sits on an egg for three weeks and it don’t hatch, is the egg spoiled?” “As an article of diet, my son, it is henceforth a failure; but for political purposes it has its uses.” I do not believe Piso’s Cure for Consumption has an equal for coughs and colds.—Joun F. Borex, Trinity Springs, Ind., Feb. 15, 1900. Baby Gets Second Choice, “What did they name the baby?” “They call him Rojestvensky.” “My! Why did they do that? didn’t they call him Togo?” “Because they wanted to name the dog Togo.”—Dallas News. cured. No fitsor. after ‘use of Dr. Kline's Great Nerve nestor FITS Gi. SE ta Dede Basch street, Paliadelpbia: Be HONEST PHYSICIAN. Works With Himself First. It is a mistake to believe that phy- sicians are always skeptical as to the curative properties of anything else than drugs. Indeed, the best doctors are those who seek to heal with as little use of drugs as possible and by the use of correct food and drink. A physician writes from Calif. to tell how he made a well man of himself with Nature’s remedy: “Before I came from Europe, where I was born,” he says, “it was my cus- tom to take coffee with milk (cafe au lait) with my morning meal, a small cup (cafe noir) after my dinner and two or three additional small cups at my club during the evening, “In time nervous symptoms devel- oped, with pains in the cardiac region, and accompanied by great depression of spirits, despondency—in brief, ‘the blues!’ I at first tried medicines, but got no relief and at last realized that all my troubles were caused by coffee. I thereupon quit its use forth- with, substituting English Breakfast Tea. “The tea seemed to help me at first, put in time the old distressing symp- toms returned, and I quit it also, and tried to use milk for my table bev- erage. This I was compelled, how- ever, to abandon speedily, for, while it relieved the nervousness somewhat, it brought on constipation. Then by a happy inspiration I was led to try the Postum Food Coffee. This was some months ago and I still use it. I am Why The man who believes he is free from delusions doesn’t know how oth- ers look at him. We Can Help You In getting beautiful and harmonious tints on your walls with Nabastin Write for sample card of handsome tints. Tell us just what work you have to do, and see how we can help you in getting beautiful effects. Alabastine is not a dis- ease breeding hot or cold water glue kalso- mine, not a covering stuck on with paste like wall paper, buta natural cement rock base coating. Anyone can apply it. Mix with cold water. Alabastine does not ruborscale, Destroys disease germs and vermin. No washing of walls after once applied, Buy only in packages prop- erly labeled. ‘‘Hints on Decorating” and no longer nervous, nor do I suffer pretty wall and ceiling design free. trom the paine about the hear, walle] "AT ABASTINE my ‘blues’ have left me and life is co., bright to me once more. I know that| Grand Rapkis, Mich. New York City. leaving off coffee and using Postum healed me, and I make it a rule to ad- vise my patients to use it.” Name given by Postum Co., Battle Creek, Mich. There’s a resson. ‘ ah cemees