For Honour's Sake.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXVIII, Issue 8103, 24 March 1906, Page 2

For Honour's Sake.

CHAPTER LIV.—-Continued. What did all this mean for him? Both doctor and magistrate had recognised Arnold at once. He had re minded the former of episodes in the past that could not be known to a third person. There was no possible question of the man's idontity; and, after ail, though the disclosure might have some tremendous issues, it had been a very simple matter for Arnold to pass himself off as dead. And now, in bia dying moments, ho was "making reparation," or dealing a terrible blow. Which was it? Was it a mercy or a cruelty to tell Captain Stewart that his wife was no wife; that he was free, if he chose, to repudiate her? The doctor could make nothing of the Scotchman's face or manner; he was strangely calm. Keeping himself under stern self-control; and Dr. Gibson, not being in the fashionable world, aud a busy man, knew little or nothing of what went on in it. He was aware that Richard Ar-

nold's widow bad married Captain Stewart of Locbmohr, and that was all; but since tbe woman was innocent. surely Stewart, as a man ot honor, would re-marry ber. "Yes. that's right," said tbe feeble voice from the bed. "Let me sign." Dr. Gibson raised him up, and put tbe pen iu hia hand. Captain Stewart held his breath as be watohed him sign. Ho wrote siovvly, but hia band, though he was failing fast, was steadier than it had been for years. He fiuiahed and lot tho pen fall. "STou know my writing, eh, Gibson?" he said. ~ "1 would swear to tbat signature anywhere," said the doctor, looking, not at the dying man, but at Stewart. "Now, will,, you alga. Captain Btewart?" said the magistrate, "and you, Dr. Gib?on?" Stewart bent over the little table. l (1 or a seoond his hand trembled; but he mastered that weakness, and wrote his signature in his usual clear, bold characters: "Esrio Allao Iror Stewart." Thau" tlj e doctor aigned, and, as be laid down the pen, glanced at Arnold, who was lying baok with closed eyes, and breathing heavily. "Give me the brandy, Captain Stewart," he said. And Stewait obeyed. •'He hasn't two hourß." said Dr. Gibson* in a whisper. Stewart turned to the magistrate. t,T Ehere is no need to detain you, sir," he said, "Thank you for comW "I only did my doty, Captain shook hands silently with both men. and went out. , the dawning light was creeping through the dosed shutters, nuiigling with the yellow light of the dying man opened his eyes, and a quick, eager look cameinto them. He tried to speak, and the Scotchman bent down{J , "The eirl." he babbled. one s the only one who ever spoke kindly. She pitied me. Let her come. "She shall come." He went to the door, and called her name, "Claude," softly. She came out directly. "The man is dying," Stewart said. "He wants you." , She entered the room at onoe, and passed straight to the bedside. Dr. Gibson looked up at her with a flash of surprise in his face, of involuntary admiration at her boßuty* She stooped over the dying man. "I am here," she aaid, gently, her sweet young voice fall of tender- • ness and pity. , He opened his «yes; they had grown dim and filmy, but he seemed to know her. He made a feeble movement, with his ban . clasped her soft, white fingers around it. "Only one who ever he began; then a pause. "Make you—happy." , . .. The straggling upward breath rippled out over the ashen lips. The doctor bent forward, and looked a moment intently. "He is dead," he said. He rose. Claude drew baok from the bedside; her eyes were full of pain; to her such a death as this was very terrible. Dr. Gibsun was nataraily casehardened ; he saw many suoh deathbeds; perhaps, too, he did not think so much as Claude did about that "dim unknown" beyond the grave. He drew Stewart aside, and gave the address of a woman who could be sent for to attend the dead; then he added, in a low tone: "Of course I am at our service, li you need my evidence." '"Thanks, doctor." They shook hands; Dr. Gibson shook hands with Claude, and toot his departure; Stewart turned t( Claude. "Will you send Benson to me, mj child, and then go to the studj 1 ani wait for me? I will bume to yoi in a few minutes." Tbe girl left the room, and in e few moments Benson came in. Stew art gave ber the address be had re ceived, and bade ber to go at ona and when Henson bad gone, be too, quitted the deatb-chambe shutting the door behind him. But'ni the passage hj« stood still The need for self-command was gone the tension snapped; the mad tid of joy rushed and leaped througl his vei?i3; he knew it fully now felt it iu every throbbing pulse in every thrilling fibre. Free!—free —free to claim all, to crown lov with honour, free to look tbe fu turc iu tho face, to infold withn Hiia own the life tbat could oul, livo in hia. What was liberty _t« the pantive, fatherland to the exile compared with this freedom? Bod; and soul was be bound, and now h< was froe—no dream, no fanes', bu blessed reality. His brain wa dizzy; he caught at the balustrad of tho staircase for support, and si stood drawing hia breath in qiuol

By Bertha M. Clay. Author of " Wife in Name Only » " Wedded and Parted "Dora, Thome," a A Queen Amour/ Women," ; " A True Magdalene," etc., etc.,

throba, doing battle with those leaping fires of ectasy, that passion that consumed him, that was madness. He could not meet her so; he must bo a little calmer. He turned to the ritudy, opened the door, closed it; Claude sitting in a low chair, her face hidden in her hands, lifted her head quickly; but before she could rise, Stewart had flung himself at her feet, wrapping her to his breast with a passion that almost terrified her, for never, even on that day, when he bad first arowed his love, pleaded for hers, was there such passion as this: then at least there (*as so muoh iu it of appeal; he clung to her in bis despair; in h ; s very clasp, in hit! kiss, there was the prayer of his lips: "I need your strength—l must have your love! Don't cast me back on myself l" But this passion was masterful, it claimed her, held her for its own—gave her no right of denial; yet she did not fear the man himself. She waa bewildered. She made no effort to strive with him. (To be Continued).