TKH^BA^ER
"Yes."
"Lumley, twenty-five years have
passed away, and he is free."
"But, Miss Briscoe?" he asked, be
wildered. "How does all this con
cern her?"
"She is his niece."
"His niece! his niece!"
Lord Lumley could say nothing.
With all the swift selfishness of a
man his thoughts were centered
round one point. Would this new de
velopment hinder his purpose, or was
it favorable to him?
"Leonardo's sister, Lumley, was my
dear friend. She married a man
named Briscoe, and died very soon
afterward. Margharita is their daugh
ter, and, Lumley, there is no English
blood in her veins. She is a Marioni!
I can see his eyes anJ his forehead
every time I look at her. They seem
to tell me that some day he will
stretch out his hand and redeem that
murderous threat. Lumley, there
have been times when it has terrified
me to look at that girl."
His face was clearing. A smile even
began to dawn upon his lips.
"Why, mother, don't you see that
so far as Miss Briscoe is concerned
that is all fancy." he said. 'You feel
in that way toward her simply be
cause she happens to resemble the
Count di Marioni. Isn't that a little
unfair to her? What can she know
of an oath which was sworn five-and
twenty years ago, long before she
was born. Why I don't suppose that
she ever heard of it."
She smiled a little sadly.
"Lumley, Ido not attempt to de
fend my feeling. Of course it is ab
surd to connect her with it, really."
"I was sure that you would say so,
mother."
"But, Lumley, although I cannot
defend it the feeling remains. Listen.
No woman has known greater hap
piness than I have. My life has been
sometimes almost too perfect, and
yet I never altogether forgot those
passionate words of Leonardo's. They
lay like a shadow across my life, dark
ening and growing broader as the
years of his confinement passed
away. The time of his release came at
last—only a few months ago, and
only a few months ago Lumley, I saw
him."
"You saw him! Where?"
'ln London, Lumley! Why did he
come, almost on the day of his re
lease, here to England? It was a
country which he hated in his young
er days, and yet, instead of visiting
his old home, his love for which was
almost a passion, instead of lingering
in those sunny southern towns where
many friends still remain who would
have received him with open arms, he
came straight to London alone. I
found him at a hotel there, broken
down, and almost, as it were, on. the
threshold of death! Yet, when he
saw me, when he heard my voice, the
old passion blazed out. Lumley, I
prayed to him for forgiveness, and he
scorned me. He had never forgotten!
He would never forgive! He pointed
to his person, his white hairs, to all
the terrible evidences of his long im
prisonment, and once more with the
same passion which trembled in his
tone twenty-five years ago, he cursed
me! It was horrible! I fled from that
place like a haunted woman, and
since then, Lumley I have been haunt
ed. Every feature in the girl's mag
nificent face, and every movement of
her figure, reminds me that she is a
Marioni!"
She had risen and was standing by
his side, a beautiful, but a suffering
woman. He took her into his arms
and kissed her forehead.
"Mother, you have too much imag
ination," he said gently. "Look at
the matter seriously. Granted that
this old man still harbors a senseless
resentment against you. Yet what
could he do? He forgets the days in
which he lives, and the country to
which you belong! Vendettas and
romantic vengeances, such as he may
have dreamt of five-and-twenty years
ago, are extinct even in his own land;
here, they cannot be taken seriously
at all!"
She shivered a little, and looked
into his face as though comforted in
some measure. " j
"That is what I say to myself, Lum- j
ley, she said; but there are times I
when the old dread is too strong for'
me wholly to crush it. I am not an I
Englishwoman, you know; I tome of j
a more superstitious race!"
I am sorry that Miss Briscoe
I should be the means of bringing these
Juhpleasant thoughts to you," he re
marked thoughtfully. "Mother!"
"Yes, Lumley."
"Would it be a great trouble to
y OU if — some day—l asked you to
receive her as a daughter?
She stood quite still and shivered.
Her face was suddenly of a marble
palor.
"You —you mean this, Lumley?"
"I mean that I care for her, mother. \
"You have not —spoken to her?"
"No. I should not have said any
thing to you yet, only it pained me to
think that there was anything be
tween you—any aversion, I mean. I
thought that if you knew, you would
try and overcome it."
"I cannot!"
"Mother!"
"Lumley, I cannot! She looks at
me out of his eyes; she speaks to me
with his voice; something tells me!
that she bears in her heart her hate
toward me. You do not know these
Marionis! They are one in hate and
one in love; unchanging and hard as
the rocks on which their castle
frowns. Even Margharita herself, in
the old x days, never forgave me for
sending Leonardo to prison, although
I saved her lover's life as well as
mine. Lumley, you have said nothing
to her?"
"Not yet."
"She would not marry you! I tell
you that in her heart she hates us
all! Sometimes I fancy that she is
I here —only "
"Mother!"
He laid his hand firmly upon her
. white trembling arm. She looked
1 around, following his eyes. Margha
j rita, pale and proud, was standing
upon the threshold, with a great
j bunch of white hyacinths in the bosom
; , of her black dress.
\ "Am I intruding?" she asked
■ quietly. "I will come down some
i other evening."
I ; Lord Lumley sprang forward to
! stop her; but his mother was the first
" to recover herself.
"Pray don't go away, Margharita,"
I she said, with perfect self-possession.
"Only a few minutes ago we were
: complaining that you came down so
seldom. Lumley, open the piano, and
get Miss Briscoe's songs."
He was by her side in a moment,
but he found time for an admiring
glance toward his mother. She had
taken up a paper kinfe, and was cut- j
ting the pages of her book. It was j
the savoir-faire of a great lady.
A CORRESPONDENCE
Letter from Courtt Leonardo di i
Marioni to Miss M. Briscoe, care of'
the Earl of St. Maurice, Mallory j
Grange, Lincolnshire. «
"Hotel de Paris, Turin.
"My beloved Niece: Alas! I have
but another disappointment to re
count. I arrived here last night, and
early this morning I visited the ad
i dress which I obtained at Florence
i with so much difficulty. The house
! was shut up. From inquiries made
■ with caution among the neighbors I
learned that Andrea Paschuli had left
a few months before for Rome.
; Thither I go in search for him..
i The delay is irksome, but it is ne- ;
cessary. Although my desire for j
the day of ipy vengence to come is
as strong as ever, I would not have j
the shadow of a suspicion rest upon I
you. Truly, yours will be no crime,
I but the world and the courts of jus
j tice would have it otherwise. You
, will, in verity, be but the instrument,
j Upon my head be the guilt, as mine
| will be the exceeding joy, when the
I thing for which I crave is accom
plished. Bless you, my child, that you
{have elected to aid me in earring out
this most just requital! Bless you,
my child, that you have chosen to
II bring peace into the heart of one who
i has known great suffering!
■"Your last letter was short; Yet I
do not wonder at it. What is there
, you can find to say to me, while ou**
j great purpose remains' thus in abey
lance? My health continues good, I
am thankful to say, yet were it other
wise, I know that my strength would
'linger with me till my oath is ac
jcomplished. Till that day shall come
'death itself has no power over me.
. Even though its shadow lay across
Imy path I could still defy it. Think
I not that I am blaspheming, Margha
irita, or that I believe in no God. I
'believe in a God of justice, and he
will award me my right. Oh, that the
( time may be short, for I am growing
j weary. Life is very burdensome, save
only for its end. '
THE FOREST CITY COURIER, THURSDAY, APRIL 4, 1929
"Sometimes, my beloved Margha
rita, you have sought to lighten the
deep gloom through which I struggle,
by picturing the happy days we may
yet spend together in some far-dis
tant country, where the shadows of
this great selfish world barely reach,
and its mighty roar and tumult sound
but is a faint, low murmur. I have
listened, but I have answered not;
I for in my heart I know that it will
; never be. Those days will never come,
jl have shrunk from throwing a chill
upon your warm, generous heart;
but of late I have wondered whether
! I do well in thus silently deceiving
you. For, Margharita, there is no
The Difference In Shingles
"The roof and the foundation are the two most important
essentials in home construction
H HI
KH. - 1111 l
FLAT GRAIN EDGWOOD
RED CEDAR SHINGLB RED CEDAR SHINGLE
The ordinary "Clear" or "Star" Red Cedar Shingles are sawn with z
large percentage of flat-grain. Consequently, they will warp, cup and
curl; loosen the nails; sometimes leak; become unsightly; and require
replacement after an average life of ten to fifteen years. They were
never intended for use on roofs.
This Is your Identification Mark for a Red Cedar Shingle
that Will Not Warp
SHINGLES
I
"p DGWOOD Shingles are sawn edgegrain—and
will not warp, cup or curl. They lie
tignt and flat to the sheathing always; preserve
their good appearance; delete the fire-hazard;
eliminate any possible trouble from leaks; and will J
NOT require replacement within forty years. They
cost less and last longer than any other
roofing material, not excepting tile or slate I
in those sections subject to hail-storms.
——— —
TNTCTPTTPTTrVSJQ THE CONSOLIDATED SHINGLE
lfv/\ MILLS OF BRITISH COLUMBIA
EDGWOOD Shingles are sawn edgegrain LIMITED
and will not warp, consequently EDG
WOOD 18 Shingles should be exposed please me your free -EDGWOOD
5 Yt" to the weather; EDGWOOD 16" PBSWb"SS HOMES" Booklet:
Shingles, 5" to the weather; any less expo- x\pmes
•ure merely add* to the COM of your roof m , Ntm,
and It Joes not add to the protection or
durability. roo ' or r «- 8t it fe*tun»
* many beautiful homes, Address ■
■ ahowlng you how you can
•aw* from 9% to 815% on
oonatructlon. It'f FREE—
mail Coupon now!
These Dealers Recommend and Sell Edgwood Shingles
FOREST CITY, North Carolina
DOGGETT a CHAMPION
i
I such time of peaceful happiness for
| me. I am dying! Nay, do not start!
[Do not pity me! Do not fear! I know
|it so well; and I feel no pang, no sor
| row. The limit of my days is fixed —
inot in actual days or weeks, but by
events. I shall live to see my desire
accomplished, and then I shall die.
i
The light may flicker, but, till then,
it will not go out. You will ask me:
Who am I that I dare to fix a limit
to an existence which God alone con
trols? I cannot tell you, Margharita,
why I know, or how, yet it is surely
so. The day which sees me free of
my vow will also be the day of my
death.
"Trouble not, my child, at this
thought, nor wonder why I can write
of the end of my days so calmly. Ask
yourself rather what further life
could mean for me. There is no joy
which I desire; my worn-out frame
could find no pleasure in dragging
out a tasteless and profitless exist
ence. I look for death as one looks
for his couch who has toiled and la
bored through the heat of the day. I
j shall find there rest and peace. I have
no other desire.
"For yourself, Margharito, have no
fear. I have made your fortune my J
. care, and God grant that it may be
. a happy one. Honest men have made
good profit out of my lands during
my imprisonment. I have wealth to
' j leave, and it is yours. The Castle of
, | the Marionis will be yours, and well
:; I know you will raise once more and
t uphold the mighty, though fallen, tra-1
• ditions of our race. I leave all fear
, lessly in your hands, at your entire
r disposal. Only one thing I beg of
I you, and that without fear of refusal.
r Marry not an Englishman. Marry
one of the nobility of our own is
s land, if you can find one worthy of
! you; if not, there are nobles of Italy
: with whom your alliance would be an
; honor, and also a profit. You will be
r rich as your are beautiful; and the
i first lady in Italy, our distant kins
; woman, Angela di Carlotti, will be
■ your guardian and your friend. May
i you be very, very happy, dearest;
• and all that comes to you you will i
[ deserve, for you have lightened the j
j heart of a weary old man, whose
j blessing is yours, now and for ever.
j. "Leonardi di Marioni."
(Continued Next Week)
—-
LEWIS-CARROLL
Mr. Clyde L. Carroll, well known
son of Mr. 0. T. Carroll of Forest
City, R-l, was married Wednesday
March 20th to Miss Nell Irene Lew.
is, the attractive daughter of Mr.
and Mrs. W. E. Lewis of near For
est" City, at the home of Rev. Z. D
Harrill in Ellenboro. Both the
bride and groom are from well
known families and have mam
friends who extend congratulations
and best wishes.
CINDERELLA'S
Exquisite Footwear
On The Square
j Shelby, N. C.