THE PROVING OF LOVE.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2413, 30 January 1909, Page 11 (Supplement)

THE PROVING OF LOVE.

The mail -wlio had, the day before, been Dudley Arkwright groveled in his misery. To-day lie was No. 4891, a despised tiling, a. convict in the State’s prison. Smeared with the taint of -a confessed crime, coward in honesty and trust, false to manhood and probity, he had been taken from the -world of honorable men and women to expiate his sin through five long, weary years to come. Nor avms this all; back there in the huge, pulsing city avus a girl who had given her heart into his keeping, believing him to be in truth .what she saw on the surface. Therein Jay his greater crime.

Tho perspiration droened -from his brow, bis facial niusdles twitched in convulsive agony, and his lingers clenched and relaxed from the passion of his remorse. “God! 4 f I could only have died !” lie cried. “1 avas a co-ward, i despicable thing, that I did net blow out my brains. My life, my existence, dead to all the rest of the world in these prison wall's, must ever be a reproach to you, Catherine. This, your Im'er, is not a man : he is Convict No. 4891,” and he sprawled on the pallet of the cell us thick, grout- sobs tumbled from his throat, each ladeiied with its message- of intense misery and self-asserted damnation.

The life of Dudley Arkwright had given promise of great accomplish;monks. At the age of thirty he was cashier of one of the largest hinks in the city. Me did net have the excuse of an inadequate salary, nor of expensive vices for tile crime he did. It was soulless lust for a sudden harvest- of the golden fleece. Ho sought a short cut from a salary of thousands to -an income of hundreds oi tboiisa.uds, and in the seeking lie- fell. A commonplace story: except for (he fact that the bank concerned was prominent his ease -would have excited no great interest. But it avus the strong box for almost millions enough to make that incomprehensible sum — a billion of dollars. Catherine Armstrong was -a wohnn created for a purpose. By this is not meant that she avas -a reformer with a mission—she was nothing of the sort, but she had strength and character underlying her femininity that gave inspiration to men, wild gained for her the lovo of Avomcn -without envy. Who was secretary to the head of a -big corporation, with a salary that -would make most men gasp -and all -women incredulous, and she owed her prosperity to tact and silence. Arkwright hi id come into her life three years -before, and from the first she .had believed in him, and, will at is far more important, had made him believe in himself. _

She knew lie was in love with her •long before he did, for a- woman can sec into the depths while a man is idly watching the ripples -above. When Arkwright impetuously declared his love land asked her to be his wife she had 'accepted, and for . the six months previous to his arrest had lived deep in the joys of her engagement. The man had lied well. . Catherine thought he had a few thousands to his credit in the bank, and believed lie would make no important venture without consulting her. Sim did not hunger for great riches; the things that give creature comfort—and love, these two—were all she prayed for, for together they spell! happiness.

(During the preliminary trial lie had heard no word of her or from her. Perhaps it.was the sense of his loss of her that prompted him to plead guilty and accept whatever leniency the court would grant. To-morrow he would march with other prisoners to the workshops, where for live- years lie would serve the State. He would be Xu. -189.1." to-morrow. This night he was a- soul in travail for his sin, ami bis repentance scorned too ila-Lo. He knew 1 that great love ol times lorgives great- faults, but. ho could not conceive Catherine condoning -his

crime. .Honor avas her fine point, in a way her religion. She was the sort of woman who Avould give her own offspring; if he stained his honor, a .weapon and bid him, “Son, pay for vour sin.”

'Two years of.the allotted five bad passed ; No. 4891 had been relieved from manual labor in the shops and given a .place in tho office. -He avus pallid and listless, living with the monotony of compulsory routine, apparently indifferent to the passing of time which brought nearer the ilio-ui of his release. The Ava-rdeu bad occasion to attend a conference in the city one day, and wins surprised to receive- an unsigned note stating that the writer would j call at a- designated timo and asking j that he be in. He kept the -appointment and the visitor proved to be- af woman. It amis Catherine. Tho war- ] den of the penitentiary was not era prison keeper. He wins a- nun of much heart who had sought tile office, not because of the salary, which be did not need, but to solve for bnnse! the problem of ‘rescuing unburdened criminals from the despondency andsense of everlasting disgrace which sent them back to become full fledged citizens of tho -underworld of crime. Catherine knew this and was, theieforc, unafraid. .. .. “Warden, Avluit 1 say is-m confidence. I tell you this before 1 say what I come for, because I am told you -are always ready to counsel and comfort. There is a man in vour institution to whom I was engaged to bo ;named. When liis crime was discovered I expected tho shock to kill me. I ’hoped it would. 1 believed in him almost as a refigieuse belkves in God; so you mn understand the terribleness of the revelation of his dishonor. I loved rtim as one woman loves one man in her lifetime and sometimes I think 1 love him yet. Iris because of that that 1 am hete, and she paused as Hie tears, driven out by her sorrow - , trickled from hex eyes. " “But I am not sure. That a the -agony of it. lam not sure. I want you to let me know if anything happens to him, but under no circumstances let him discover that 1 have asked you. When the day comes that I know my heart I will write him. Until that day it is better he -should think of me as lost- to him; love may not triumph, and the pain would be needlessly given. His name is Dudley Arkwright, and he-—” but- Catherine’s strength was spent- and her grief found relief in sobbing. “1 knoAV him,” •* i id the warden tenderly. ‘‘l have thought be had a sorrow hidden. This, L presume, is it. My dear young lady, I will do as vou wish, and wherever you think you will! find happiness, may Cod grant it- you,' ’and the man soothed the stricken -girl with words of comfort- and of cheer.

For good behavior a prisoner is allowed a reduction of his time of service, and No. 4891 earned'all that the regulations allowed. In three days he was to be released, and he vaguely wondered, what he- should do, vheio he would go. Of Catherine lie hud heard nothing; his friends in the city had not communicated with him ; there ■was no one to whom he coui.d turn foi assistance. -lie knew the warden would, on his day of release, piovide him with a suit of clothes, a ticket- to the city and a small sum ill money. These wore his only resources. “No. 4891, you become Dudley Arkwright to-day. I. have given you, as I iuave boon instructed, a- suit of clothes, somewhat better than is pinvided by the State, also lOUdols. in money iimd this letter to a lumber company in (Everett, Wu., where you will be given cmpiloyment,’’ said the -wuiden the morning of his freedom. “Yes,” said Arkwright, not fully comprehending. “May I ask who. “A frftuid. Arkwright, you are a very lucky man. That’s all/' and the warden took him to the door that had separated him from the world. On the trip west Arkwright pondered long as to the identity of his benefactor. Numerous names were weighed land cast out as unlikely. He was still in the dark when he entered the office of the general manager of the lumber company. “I know your story, Arkwnght, but none Of tlie other employees do. Make good and you will get back all you have lost. Here’s my band and good luck to you,” said the official cordially, even friendly. “I can’t begin to thank you. I begin. Arkwright. “6? course, you can’t,” the manager interrupted. “The person you re looking for to thank is m the next room; go in,” and he half pushed him through the door. The office was darkened and the Shadows tfolil deep. Arkwright could

see no one. ~ . “I—ah—b'Og your pardon, be began, tentatively. From 'a- corner he saw a liguie aiist, „. woman’s. 'She walked slowly forward until the light replug through the curtained window disclosed m features. Arkwright recoiled when ho saw her. “Catherine!” he cried. “Yes, Dudley,” she said, and her voice was low and tender. “Yonhave done this lor me. ‘\ hy, Catherine, why?” _ -She came nearer to him. Her hands were on his shoulder, 'and, ns -his aims went -about' her, they slipped .•arouml his neck and were intoiihiced 'at the

back- ~ “For love, Dudley., love.