The evening world. Newspaper, December 3, 1904, Page 11

as ~ =, “ THE BRIDE OF GLENDEARG. 3 the assailants feH before Glendearg’s The work had roused the fight in the man and instead of defending himself at bay he now rushed his assailants with a roar and battered and kicked them . They were morally as well as physically beaten, for the amazing swiftnees and strength of the kid-gloved man they thought to make an easy vie- tim cowed and confused them. “Bah!” exclaimed Glendearg. “You cowardly dogs! I thought you would at least give me a fight!" At a movement of the gang to renew the attack Frits called out; “Wait, boys, I'll wing the swell, Watch me.” Glendearg saw him raise a pistol, and, as he hastily looked about for a chair or some missile to hurl at the blinking brute, a shot was fired, and Frits sank down behind the bar with a groan, the blinking eyes closing forever. The gang stared in terror, and Glendearg, not yet realising, as they did, what had hap- pened, taunted ¢hem to fight, but they huddled together, terror stricken. “You'll not earn your reward, you curs,” Glendearg said and, lifting the hinged bar, stepped through a litle room into a side sireet, There he saw his brougham with Low holding its door open. “I thought I would order the carriage, sir, as you said you had rather a late call to make,” - “Were you inside there—in Fritz's?” “Yeu, sir.” “Oh, by the way, Low, did you shoot Frits?’ “Yes, sir.” . . ” 7 . . . . . . * Early in the evening Mrs. Rarson had received from Orcutt a message telling her that Glendearg was expected at Frits’s that night, and the news warmed her blood, She was to receive Donald! What a reception it would be! She dressed for him; a bive and silver gown. and for jewels a string of diamonds she was able to coll three times around her neck, and then It left a long loop, Surveying herself in a glaas she said; “I am satisfied.” It was nearly midnight when he rang the bell at Mrs, Rarson’s door, and she came fn person to open It. She thought to find her thugs bearing his unconscious body, but here was a man conscious and quietly enjoying ner surprise and con- fusion. She was dumb! “L heard from one of your friends that you were expecting me to-night, so I decided to call, in spite of the time, rather than disappoint you, It's rather late, but as | was expected you will forgive the time,” he said. She moved mechanically into the dining-room and sat down, “One man was killed, some others huit. Will this not make @ fuss? Can you depend upon those men not talking? Perhaps I should ask you to keep them quiet, as a good turn to me, as weil as to yoursel!.” ’ “You know how much I desire to do good for you, Donald!” There was a sneer in her lips as she said this, but none in her volce nor In her eyes; and the man in him told Glendearg that there was none in her heart, Perhaps she did not know it! “Good night,” she said. “Good night when our story is but half told? 1 like the way your dress falls over your shoulders, draping, yet exposing, their great beauty, You are gor- geous, with your midnight eyed and red hair. Is it not likely that you are the most attractive woman on earth to-night?” “Please go, Donald!" Vand yet you will work, plan with rufMads, for two years to have me brought here to you drugged, mutilated, perhaps.” He paused. A word he had used, only to arouse a feeling in her he wanted to act on, suggested something to him, and he resumed slowly: “Mutilated? Was that It, Leontine? Somehow, as I look at you now, my mind cannot/grasp that you would want to do that.” “Pity me, Donald!" “Pity you? How is that? Am I master here—again? Was it in pity for me that you plotted with low brutes for my injury?" She shook with a gasp and sob of hate—or love—and stepped toward him, but started at the sound of the door bell, Her sleepy maid came and whispered. “Two men in the hall.” She left Glendearg without asking him to go, and muttered to herself as she went to the hall: “A danger avoided! What would I have done?” Orcutt, his throat and face showing signs of rough treatment, and another man were there, They had not a pleasant story to ted, Failure is never well (uid, But she treated them leniently; not telling them why—perhaps not adm.it- ting to herself why. They said they thought the police were on them when they heard the pistol shot or they would not have let Glendearg escape. But \they wanted no more of the job in that line, He mist be tricked to the house in some way and taken by surprise. CHAPTER IV. The Crowning Sacrifice, OCIETY was only mildly interested in hearing of Leontine Rarson's de- parture for Paris. Even Glendearg did not suspect that visit's purport. But be was not long kept io doubt a8 to its partial reason, «+ Young Beaumont Carpenter, Helen's best loved cousin, who had been more like a brother than a cousin to her, was in Paris, Mrs, Rarson managed to meet him, and at once brougtrt to bear all her manifold fas- cinations to draw the foolish lad to her feet. Beaumont had heard nothing of Mrs, Rareon’s conflict with his own family, nor of her part in the attempt to abduct Helen. To him the fair widow seemed the incarnation of all loveliness, and he fell violently in love with her, Holen, Miss Barry and Roakes, who had returned to New York, heard a tumor of the boy's infatuation and were greatly troubled thereat, But they did not guess the.crdwning stroke in Mrs. Rarson’s plan, Leontine had ct length worked Beaumont to the plich of proposing, She then hung back and affected to find a barrier to ther union. Beaumont pressed her “Long ago Donald Glendearg made love to me. I could not care for him and 1 told him so, He revenged hinmelf by circulating ruinous staries concerning me. 1 was at iast forced to go to Miss Barry's, where he chanced to be calling, and to beg him pubNely to retract the madicious Hes he had told concerning me.” “The brute!” cried Beaumont. “T'll"'— “You must do nothing rash, dear,” interrupted Mrs. Rarson, “Yet this is the obstacie to our unton—Donald Glendearg loves your cvusin, Helen Fenno, Were he to marry her I could not submit to the indignity of becoming related by mar- riage with a man who has publicly insulted me. If you can make your cousin Helen swear never to marry Donald I will gladly marry you. That is my only Her revenge against Donald promised fulfilment. Beaumont Carpenter, wild rage and eagerness, sailed at once for home to extract the required pledge Helen Mrs. Rarson followed to New York on the next steamer. a Beaumont Carpenter far different from the affeotionate, gay-hearted times who burst unceremoniously into the drawing-room where Helen, and Beaumont's own sister, the Duchess of Moorland, were sitting, t dear!” cried Helen as he entered the room. “Beaumont, you are him with outstretched arms. answered roughly, but kissing her. “Well, Aunt Emmie you are both here, for I've a family matter to discuss,” appearance, his Indifference to them all, shocked them. umont,” she said, “I can kmagine only one reason these months of waiting—in this rude way; in this greeting for us.” a Child; and I have a man's affair to talk of, for any alliy purpose.” 2 4 i if : J a 32 3 : t i 3 si : : i i i i if ATE ee a a “Mr, Glendearg,” Beaumont began, hoarsely, “we were beginning a family councll when you were announced, and I asked my aunt to have you dm here, because the matior concerns you,” Donald bowed, but Chesterton made as if he would jeave. “And you, too, Lord Chesterton,” Beaumont added. “I may have to refer to something which you witnessed, and can testify to now.” Lord Chesterton concealed whatever surprise this amazing statement may have created, stepped to the side of Glendearg, Beaumont tinued: “I am engaged to marry a lady~Mrs. Rarson—who for very good reasons will hot come inio @ur family unt I can assure her tha: there is no possibility of Donald Giendearg's becoming a member of it." For a minute no one in the roonr seemed to breathe; so profolndly, though differently, were all moved by Uhis announcement. Helen's feekings found expression first. She sovoed now without restraint, and exclaimed, “Oh, Beaumont, no! Not that woman!’ “Why not 'that woman?” he demanded angrily. “Has any one here reagon to offer why * should not be proud to marry Mra. Rarson?’ He turned and looked only at Donald as he spoke, Donald said nothing, and Beaumont continued, *‘Have you, Mr. Glendearg, any reason to suggest why I should not marry Mrs. Rarson?" “Yee,” reptied Donald quietly. “What seems to me to be a sufficient reason; that by doing so you will break you cousin's heart.” Beaumont laughed, "Thank you for suggesting to me the real reason why you perry to my marriage; you may gtill entertain some hope of winning her your- Glendearg had himselfrperfectly in hand, now, and this low taunt brought no change to his face whatewr, Rut It had been more than Miss Barry could en- - dure in silence, and she now sald, “Beaumont, as you are determined to have this awful subject dragged to the end, I will wake a finish of it as soon as possible. Our reason for not wanting you to marry that woman—for shuddering at the thought of it—is that she disclosed herself to us as a common creature by coming to my house in New York, pursuing Mr. Glendearg, and making demands upon him which could have,had no other possible purpose than an atttempt to injure Mr. Glendearg in our esteem. | regret now that we kept it from you at the time.” “Bhe went there (o demnnd that he retract false statements he had cireulated cbout her!" cried the youth, “Beaumont! In Heaven's name stop!” begged Helen, “She came to demand that Mr, Glendearg marry her!" “You Het" As these words left Beaumont's lips Chesterton heard Glendearg groan, and looking at him saw that he waa trembling as with an ague in the mighty effort to restrain himself, Chesterton hinself felt a lively desire to cuff Beaumont’s ears, bul he saw that Glendearg was restraining by a mighty effort >» wish to throw | the ungrateful cub out of doors, Miss Barry sank down tn a chair overcome, the duchess cried angrily, “Beaumont Carpenter, I am horritied! 1 am ashamed of you. f&ave this room!’ But Helen, every trace of blood flying from her face, ran to the mad youth with her arms again outstretched, crying, “Beaumont, Beaumont dear! You did hot mean to say that. No, Beaumont! No, no! My dear brother, this is Helen. Look at me, dear! Beaumont, Beaumont!” “I'm sorry to distress you, Helen,” Beaumont resumed, trying to speak more températely, “and we can bring this interview to a close shortly—you and [ can, Will you promise never to marry Mr, Glendearg?’ Donald spoke, seeing that Helen could not. “Mr. Carpenter,”’ he sald, “your cousin, Miss Fenno, refused, months ago, to marry me. Now, in God's name say nothing more about that, Perhaps 1 understand your state of mind better than the others here, and I suggest that you come away with me now and not return until you ore calmer, You cannot but see that these ladies are in a pitiable state—have pity upon them.” “TIL go, but not with your help or advice, Mr. Glendearg, when my cousin has given me the promise you say she is at liberty to give.” “Beaumont, no! Don't!’ Helen sobbed. “1 shall not marry, I do not want io marry anyone, ever, But, dear, say you will not marry—her!” The boy's face lighted at her words, "Thank you, Helen,” he sadd. “You are the best of sistera and cousins, You'll love her when you know what a noble nature she has, as I already know. Even those who, for their revenge because she dismissed them''—he suddenly turned to Glendearg, as if challeng- ing—"‘even he, | gay, who vilified her because she scornfully dismissed him, now has no word to utter against her!” The rage was roturning to him and he looked at Glendearg defiantly, adding, os the latter's stlence seemed to urge him on, "I speak truthfully, Mr, Glen- cearg, do f not? You know of nothing in the lady’s character or actions which you could urge agacnst het to me—if you had the right to do #0?" Glendearg did not spenk, “Bee!"' cried the boy in triumph. “He knows nothing against the lady. Now Vil go, Aunt, I want you to call on Mrs, Rarson,"’ Then he left the room, and as he did so poor Helen fell back in a faint, Migs enno recovered in a few moments and turning to the others gaid: “Go, please, all of you except Mr. Glendearg and Aunt Emme, I wish to speak to them.” When only Donald and Miss Barry remained in the room with her, Helen turned to the former and said; “Mr. Glendearg, you asked me to marry you and I refused, for I did not know whether | loved you. I do not know now whether I love you, for there ts room in my heart only for anguish, But if you still care enough for me to marry me, Donald Glendearg, I will marry you if you save Beaumont. my brother, from the ruin of his life, It is a small reward I offer you-—but it is all | have—Donald.”’ For a moment his own pale cheeks flushed, his eyes filled with a greater hap- piness than they had ever before shown, ‘Then he grew pale again, and knelt by her aide. For a time he did not speak, but at last heaised his head, and said, “1 will save your brother, Helen,” He kissed her and stood up, and for a moment pressed his hands over his eyes, as if shutting out the sight of her. But he smiled gravely, as he turned to fo, stopped by Miss Barry's side, and said, “I have thought of—of a pian, Good-by,”" In his cab he sat for a time as one stunned, but his mind was in a whirl of emotion. Over and over he said to himself: “This is a sacrifice I have thought of a thousand times, and put from me, Coward! There is but one way. He can be taken from that woman in but on» way. It will save her brother and bring her happinea@s. And I hesitated! Coward!” He drove at ouce to Mre. Rarson's and was told that she was alone and would see him, He waited in the hail for a moment, as if he needed to gather strength, then entered the room where she waited fur him, At the first glance at his face she carried her hands to her heart, and fot a moment closed her eyes, then siood motonlees, looking at him Wwéth eyes of famished longing. “Leontine,” he aaid, ‘i have come for you." She swayed, then fell forward, and he caught her in his arma. “Donald!” she sobbed. “My love, my lord, my god! Donald!’ And as he held her, lest she fall, he prayed God that he should not crush out ner, life CHAPTER V., A Woman's Love, HAUMONT called in the evening. Mrs, Rarson knew that he would call and #he—she the cruel dreaded the interview, for she did not want to give him pain. She would have gladly saved any human creature on earth, the lowest, from pain that night, Donald had told her that they would be wedded in the autumn, and she was happy; happy in a way she had never before been; happy In way to mawe her pray. And rhe did pray humbly, to be forgiven her sins, to granted strength to be slmpiy good. Bhe felt that she would be good, be gen- kind, helpful, patient. She would make herself worthy of hin, of his honest leve. She believed she n even that in the end, though she realized she did not have it now, faith * her power, the power of her own great love to win his. “He she kept saying, “good in my heart; good in my soul. God Fr* 4) gE E me for 1 will be good. Donald will love me, for I will be a good love for bim will teach him to love me." came his first words were, “Leontine, how beautlfui you eyes beauty!" ‘ to say, We will not be married.” 2E i ss hd 4 =< > £ at