Newspapers / The Charlotte Observer (Charlotte, … / Aug. 25, 1906, edition 1 / Page 3
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THE CHARLOTTE NEWS AUGUST 25, 1 906 3C j o o mm o o The magnificent . ... IS J. VAN LINIDILEY, President Bd. (Copyright, f906, by Mary D. Wilkms CHAPTER XI Gordon smiled at James. "God -bless 3011. boy!" he said. - ' What possible difference do you think that could make?'" demanded James hotly. "Could that poor little girl help it?" "Of cou.rse she could not. but same men might object," and. with reason, to marrying a girl who came of such stock on her father's side." "I am not one of those men." "No, I don't think you are, but it is only my duty to put the case plainly before you. That man who was buried this afternoon was simply unspeakable. He was a monstrosity of perverted morality. I cannot even- bring myself to tell you what I knowof him. I can rot even bring myself to give you the least hint of what my poor young sis ter, Clemency's mother, suffered in her brief life with him. You may fear heredity " "Heredity, nothing! Don't I know Clemency?" v - "I myself really think that you have nothing whatever to fear.: Clemency is her mother's living and . breathing im age as far as looks go;, and as far as I can judge in the innermost workings of her mind. I have not seen in her the slightest taint from her evil father, though God knows I have watched for it with horrors as the years have pass ed. After she was born I smuggled her sway by night, and gave out word that the child had died at the same time v ith the mother. There1 was a private funeral, and the casket "was closed. I bad hard work to carry it through suc cessfully, for I was young in those days, and broken-hearted at losing my sister, but carry it through I did, and no one knew except a 'nurse. I trusted ker, I was obliged to do" so, and I fear that she has betrayed mei;I established a practice in another town in another State, and there I met Clara. She has told me that she informed you of the fact that she was my wife, but not of our reasons for concealing it. Just be fore we were married I became prac tically certain that Clemency's father kad gained in some way information that led him to suspect, if not to be absolutely certain, that' his child had not died with his wife. I had a widowed lister, Mrs. Ewing, who lived in Iowa 'Aith her only daughter ' Just about Clemency's age. Just before our mar riage she decided to remove to Eng land to live with some relatives of her deceased husband. They had considera ble property, and she had very little. 1 begged her to go secretly, or rather to hint that she was going East to live with me. which she did. Nobody in the little Iowa village, so far as I knew, "was aware of the fact that my sister and daughter had gone to England, and not East to live with me. ; Clara and I were married privately in an pb scure little Western hamlet, and came East at once. We have lived in various j record of the Pioneer North Carolina Life Insurance Company has made it possible for and do a splendid business, and we heartily congratulate 6F IN THE LEAD. From: foieign company wrote in the same territory. The record of no other North Carolina Company approaches this splendid Whenever it is sut passed we will take off our hat to the RECORD BREAKER. The best agency force in the State, and the best, clearest-cut policy contracts on the market did the work. HA I UOOF 3C - Freeman. All rights Reserved) localities, being driven from one to another by the danger of Clemency's father ascertaining the truth; and my wife has always been known as Mrs. Ewing, and Clemency as her daughter. Itrhp.s been a life of constant watchful ness and deception, and I have been bound hand and foot. Even had Clem ency's father not been so exceedingly careful that it would have been difficult to reach him by legal methods, there was the poor child to be considered, and the ignominy which would come upon her at the exposure of her father. I have done what I could. I am natur ally, a man who hates deception, and wishes above all things to lead a life with its windows open and shades up, but I have been forced into the very reverse. My life has been as closely shuttered and curtained as my house. I have been obliged to force my own wife to live after the came fashion. Now the cause for this secrecy is re moved, but as far as she is' concerned the truth must still be concealed for Clemency's sake. It must not be known that the dead man was her father, and the very instant we let go one thread of the mystery the whole fabric will unravel. Poor Clara, can never be ac knowledged openly ' as my wife, the best and most patient wife a man ever had, and under a heavier sentence of death this moment than the utmost in genuity of man could contrive." Gor don groaned, and let his head sink upon his hands. "She told me some time ago that she vas illv James said pitying! v. "111? She;; Has been upon the execu tioner's block for-, years. It is not ill ness: that-is tOO"tame a' word for it It is torture; prolonged as. only the evil forces of "Nature"" herself can prolong it." .Gordon rose and shook himself , angri ly. "I am keeping her now almost con stantly under morphine," he said. "She has suffered more lately. The attacks heve been more frequent. There has never been the slightest possibility of a surgical operation.- From the very first it was utterly hopeless,, and if, it had been the dog there, r should have put a "bullet through his head and con sidered myself a- friend." Gordon gazed With miserable Reflection 'at the dog. "I am glad that the direct cause of that nian's death was not what it might have been," he said. , He shook himself again as a dog shakes off water. He laughed a mis erable laugh. "Well" he. said, "Clem ency is free now. She can go her ways as she will. You see she resembles her mother so closely that I had to guard her from even the sight of her father. He would have known the truth at once. Clemency is free, but I have paid an awful price for her freedom and for your life. If I had not done what vou "doubtless knew I did that night, vou would have been shot, and it would have been a struggle between myself and her father, with the very Gordon CKEERISBOiO July 21st,-1906, it issued $5,756850.09 of insurance. This is nearly G. A. GIRIMS Age rrt, Office, Room 7 Wilkinson Building, good chance of my being killed, and Clara and the girl left defenseless. His revolver carried six deaths in it. It would all have depended upon the quickness J5fthe doandI,s,hjpjild. liaveTeft too much hanging upon that." "I don't see what else you could do," James said in a low voice. He was pale himself. He did not blame Gordon. He felt that he himself, in Gordon's place, would have done as he had done, and yet he felt as if faced close to a horror of murder and death, and he knew from the look . upon the other rdan's countenance that he was the same with him. "I saw no other way," Gordon said in a broken voice' but but I don't know whether I am a murderer or an executioner, and I never shall know. God help me! .Well." he added with a sigh, "what is done, is done. Let us go to bed." ' - James said when they parted at his room door that he hoped Mrs.; Ewing would; have a comfortable , night. "Yes, she will," replied Gordon quaintly. Then he gave the : young man's hand a warm clusp. God bless' you!" he whispered- "If this had turned you against the child, it would have driven me madder than I am now. I love her as she were my own. You and your loyalty are all I have to hold to." "You can hold to that to the end," James returned with warmth, and he looked at Gordon as he might have looked at his own father. Late as it was, he wrote that night to his own father . and mother, telling them of his engagement to Clemency. There now can be no possible need for secrecy with regard to it. James, in spite of his vague sense of horror, felt an exhilaration at the thought that now all could be above board, that the shutters could be flung open. He felt as if an incubus had rolled from his mental consciousnessr Clemency her self experienced ; something; of the same feeling. She - appeared ' at the breakfast-table the next; morning with her hat. "Uncle says I may go with you on your rounds," she said to James. She beamed, and yet there was a troubled- and puzzled expression on her pretty face. When she and James had started, and were moving swiftly along the country road, she said sud denly, "Will you tell me something?" James hesitated. "Will you?" she repeated. ..;. ' "I can't promise, deai,"' he said" ;!Why riot?" she asked pettishly. ' "Because it might, ' be something which I ought not. to tell ypu." v V "You ought to tellv me everything if if " she hesitated, and blushed. "If what?" asked James tenderly. She nestled up to him. "If you feel toward me p& xou sayyoudo." , ; "If, Oh.$lenfcy!f ? " , Then!.youQattoer:J03e.; 'No, you needn't kiss me. I want you to- tell me something. I don't want to be kissed." "Well, what is that you want to know, dear?" "Will you promise to tell me?" "No, dear, I can't promise, but I will tell you if I am able without doing you harm'. . , . .. . Who was that man who. was buried yesterday, who has been; hunting me so long, and frightened me and Uncle Tom, and why have I been compelled NO LEY It to stay housed .as: if I were a prisoner so much, of my life?'; "Because you were in danger, dear, from that mah.?'r - "Ynn aro nnswerinsr me in a circle!" iemency sat upright--and looked at James, and the blue fire in her eyes glowed. "Who was the man?" she ask ed peremptorily. "I can't tell you dear." "But you know." . ' "Yes." "Why can't you tell me then?" . . "Because it is- not best.?; ... ' Clemency shrugged her shoulders. "Why, did he hunt me so?" "I can't tell you dear." "But you know." "I am ngt sure." "But you think you know." "Yes." "Then tell me." "I can't dear." "When will you fell me?" ' ; , "Never."-; '... :.- 1 Clemency looked at him, , and. again she blushed. "You ?frill tell me' softer we . are married. .You will have to tell me everything ' then," she "whis pered. " James shook his head. "Won't you then?" ' "No, dear, I shall " never tell you while I live." Clemency .made a sudden grasp at the reins. "Then I will 'never marry you,", she said "I will? never marry you, if you keep things from me." - "I never will keep things from you that you ought to know, dear." "I ought to know this!" James remained silent. Clemency had brought-the horses to a full stop. "Won't you ever tell me?" she asked. "No, never! dear." . , "Then let me get out:' This is Annie Lipton's street. I am going to see her. I have not seen her for a long time. 1 will walk home. It is safe enough now. You can tell me that much ?": : "Yes, it is. but Clemency, dear." am not Clemency, dear. I am not going to marry you. You say you wrote your father- and mother last , night that we were going to get married: Well, you can just write again and tell them . we are not. No, you need not try to stop me. I .will get out. Goodj I . shaJL thay with Annie. I like her : very much better than I like you." With that Clemency had slipped out of the buggy and hurried up a street without looking back. James drove on. He felt disturbed, but not seriously .so. It was impossible to take Clem ency's anger as ; a; real thing. It w&s so whimsical; .: and childish; He-'; had counted upon his long i ho r n i n g ; w i t h her, but he went oh with" a little smile on his face. ; He was half inclined to think, so slightly did he estimate Clemency's anger, that she would not keep her word, and would be home for luncheon. But when he returned she was not there, and she had not come when the bell rang. : "Why, where is Clemency?" Gordon. said when they entered ' the dining room. - "She insisted upon stopping t see her friend Miss Lipton," said James "She said that she might not -be home to lunch." ; Emma gave one of her 'sharp, baffled glances at him, then, having served the two men, she tossed her head and went out. Nobody knew ft '. C. C. TAYLO ret try Over News Off ice how much she wished to listen at the kitchen door, but. she was iibove such a, course. -' -, -; "Clemency- and I had a bit of a tiff" James-explained to Gordon, .".She. seemed vexed because I would not tell her what you told me last night. She is curious to know more about that man." "She must not know," Gordon said quickly. "Never mind if she does seem a little vexed. She will get over it. I know Clemency. She is. ,lik Jr-mothi er. -The": power, t s'&tafcedj; wdignaV tion against one she' loves is not ni the child, and she must not know. It would be a dreadful thing for her to know. I myself cannot have it. It is enough of a horror as it is, but to have the child look at me, and think " Gordon broke off abruptly. "She will never know through me," James said, "and I thipk with , you that her resentment will ; not. last." "She will be at home this afternoon," said Gordon, "and the walk will do her good." ;. - But the two returned from their afternoon calls,- and still- Clemency had not returned. Emma met them at the door. "Mrs. Ewing says she is wor ried about Miss Clemency," she said. Gordon ran upstairs. When he came down he joined James in th&-. office. "I ""have pacified Clara," he ;said, "but suppose you - jump into, the ; buggy, Aaron has not unharnessed yet, and 'drive over to Annie Lipton's for her. It is growing colder, and Clemency has not been outdoors much lately, and she has rather a delicate throat. It is time now that shewas 'home.' James smiled. "Suppose she will not come with me?" he suggested. "Nonsense," said Gordon. "She will- be only too glad if you meet her half way. She will come. Tell her I said that she must." ' ' "All right," replied James. . He went out, got into the buggy, and drove along rapidly. He had the team, and the horses were still quite fresh, as they had not been long i distances that day. There - was a vague fear in the young man's mind, although he tried . to dispel it by the force of argument. "What has the girl to fear now?" his reason kept dinning in. his ears, but, in spite of himself, something else, "which seemed to him unreason, made him- anxious. When he reached Annie Lipton's home, a fine old house, overhung- ,.with - a. -;delicate . tracery - of Withered vines, he-saw Ar.nie's pretty fend pt. ?i f rbnt windows. She opened Lthe door before he-had time ?To rg the belL and -she looked with aiarrfKai dnestionia&at himv "I have come for Miss Ewing, her uncle "James began, but Annie inter rupted him, her face paling percep tibly. "Clemency," she said; "why, she left her mrecujr siaex '.mnc. pun said she ffitfst SEref felt anxious about her mother, and did not want to leave her any longer. Hasn't she come home yet?" "No," said James. "And you didn't meet her? You must have met her." "No." - . - The two. stood staring at each other. (A delicate bid face peeped' out ; of. the door at the right of the hails. It was like Annie's, only dimmed by age, and shaded by two leaf-like folds of gray other Home Companies to organize, $2,000,000 more than Agency lotto 3C hair as smooth as silver, "Oh, mother, Clemency has ' not got home!" Annie cried..;"Dr., Elliot, this;, is my, -mother. Mother Clemency has. not got home. LWhat do :yqu Jbink has happened?" ,v The lady caine out in the hall. She' had a quiet serenity of manner, but her soft eyes looked anxious;; "Could she have stopped anywhere,'" dear?" she said. - "You know, mother, there '.s not a" single house between here Jand her 'pti-'i&fjiemii r&pi-K stops," said i Anniej She was -:remb.iiig "all over. , f ,', James made a movement to go. "WJiat are you going to do?'.' cried Annie. "Stop at every house betweenhere and Doctor Gordon's, and ask if the people have seen her," replied James. Then he ran back to the buggy, and neard;as ne went a nttie nervoHscaii from; Annie; "Oh, let us know'-if-r " "I wiB Jet you know when I find -jher, Miss Lipton," he called back as;, he gathered up the lines. He kept his word.; ,IIe ; .did stop at every house, and at every one all knowledge of the girl was disclaimed. There were not many houses, the road being a lonely one. He was met mostly by women who seemed at once to share his anxiety, pnq, woman especially asked very care fully f or a-; description of Clemency, and he Cave' a minute one. "You say iier mothefiS 'ilT. too," said the wo man. She was elderly, but still pretty. She had kept her tints of youth as seme withered flowers do. and there seemed still to cling to her the atmos phere of youth,' as fragrance clings to dry rose leaves. She was dressed in rather a superior fashion to most of the- countrywomen, in soft lavender cashmere which fitted her slight, tall figure admirably. James had a glimpse behind her of a pretty interior: a room with windows full of . blooming plants, Q,f' easy-chairs' and many cush ioned i sofas, . beside book-eases. The jwomah looked; so ho thought, like one vhok had some private anxiety of her own." She kept peering up and down the read, as they talked, as though she, too, were on the watch for some one. She promised James to keep a lookout for the missing girl. "Poor little thing," she murmered. There was something in her face as she said that, a slight phase of amusement, which caused James to stare keenly at her, but' it had passed,; and", her whole, face denoted'' thij: utmose candor"- aid con cern. .-'..'. , . . " .: :. ' Whea J James reached home he had a forlornrhbDethdt.he' should; find Clem- jsncy-tfserer. that' from' a. spirit "of mis chief she had taken some cross track ever the fields to elude him. But when Aaron met. him in the drive, and he saw Jthe nian's "frightened stare, he knew, that he .had not come. It was un necessary to ask, but he did. "She has hot come?" I "No, Doctor Elliot," Replied , Aaron. He did not even chew. He tied" the" horses, and followed James itf to the office, with his jaws stiff. Gordon stood hp when James entered., and jooked past him for Clemency. "She iyas,not therB?.lie:almoVsfioute3.. c: -J-' .ContiftucJd -Monday: ; ' - Mr. C. D. Harris, of Raleigh, is regis tered at Hotel Buford. ; iinipmw n any other home or record. Director. a CURED SEVEH YEARS Has Drunk Nothing Stronger lhan i Coffee Since the Third Dhv . After; Entering the Keeley In- stitute at Greersboro. The Keeley Institute, Greensboro, N. When' but , a boy I formed the habit of taking "an occasional drink which grew as I. grew older, until when I had grown' to be a man, I was a con firmed drinker ruined as I thought socially, morally, financially, and spir itually, with" help gone, hopes blight ed, and with7 no control of appetite pr self. But 'over seven years ago I was persuaded by a praying mother' and father to take a course at the Greens boro Keefev." Institute, and the treat ment ttere effected a permanent cure. I have never' tasted a drop of anything stronger than coffee since the third day after : entering the Institute at Greensboro.- To-day I am a successful farmer with a happy wife and three bright little children trying to serve our God. I give the. Keeley credit for all that I am andvjall-that I have to-day. E. J. GREEN. Oxford, N. C., It. F. D. No. 5, Nov. 9, 1904.' -J. The Shah of Persia has an extra ordinary museum in Teheran, his capital. It, is supposed to contain his presents from foreign potentates,' but the exhibits include a hand glass marked "Price 3s." and some fans ticketed "6 l-2d." Some captious critic declares they were purchased; ty His Highness. To Creditors of The Traders Insurance Company, of Chicago. Notice is hereby given to all credi tors of The Traders Insurance Com pany, of Chicago, that June 29, 1906, an order was entered by the Circuit Court of Cook County, Illinois, in the cause wherein the undersigned was appointed Receiver, directing that all claims against The Traders Insurance" Company, of Chicago, (other than fire less claims) be filed, under oath, with the Receiver on or before ninety days from said .Tune 29. 1906. and that air claims (other than fire-loss claims) not so filed within ninety days from-s-aid June 29. be forever boned from any right to share In the distribution of the estate by said court. Notice is accordingly given hereby to all creditors of said Tho Traders insurance Company,' of Chicago, (other, than fire-loss claimants) to file their claims, under oath, with me pursuant to. the terms of said order, on or before ninety days from June 29 1906. Blank f.orms for' claims may be bad on applir cation; at "my 'office. "4 . ."V ' -- , . , BYRON. L SMITH, Receiver of -The ' . Traders - Insurance 'Company, Of Chicago,' Rector. 7-9-oaw-tf ' e w. V
The Charlotte Observer (Charlotte, N.C.)
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Aug. 25, 1906, edition 1
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