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the interview had hurt me, had roused in me a certain perversity. I determined to stand by my guns. [Illustration: "Garry," I said, "this is--this is Berna"] "Marriage," said I, "isn't everything; often isn't anything. Love is, and always will be, the great reality. It existed long before marriage was ever thought of. Marriage is a good thing. It protects
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the wife and the children. As a rule, it enforces constancy. But there's a higher ideal of human companionship that is based on love alone, love so perfect, so absolute that legal bondage insults it; love that is its own justification. Such a love is ours." The ironical look deepened to a sneer. "And look you here, Garry," I went
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on; "I am living in Dawson in what you would call 'shame.' Well, let me tell you, there's not ninety-nine in a hundred legally married couples that have formed such a sweet, love-sanctified union as we have. That girl is purest gold, a pearl of untold price. There has never been a jar in the harmony of our lives. We
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love each other absolutely. We trust and believe in each other. We would make any sacrifice for each other. And, I say it again, our marriage is tenfold holier than ninety-nine out of a hundred of those performed with all the pomp of surplice and sacristy." "Oh, man! man!" he said crushingly, "what's got into you? What nonsense, what clap-trap
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is this? I tell you that the old way, the way that has stood for generations, is the best, and it's a sorry day I find a brother of mine talking such nonsense. I'm almost glad Mother's dead. It would surely have broken her heart to know that her son was living in sin and shame, living with a----" "Easy
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now, Garry," I cautioned him. We faced each other with the table between us. "I'm going to have my say out. I've come all this way to say it, and you've got to hear me. You're my brother. God knows I love you. I promised I'd look after you, and now I'm going to save you if I can." "Garry,"
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I broke in, "I'm younger than you, and I respect you; but in the last few years I've grown to see things different from the way we were taught; broader, clearer, saner, somehow. We can't always follow in the narrow path of our forefathers. We must think and act for ourselves in these days. I see no sin and shame
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in what I'm doing. We love each other--that is our vindication. It's a pure, white light that dims all else. If you had seen and striven and suffered as I have done, you might think as I do. But you've got your smug old-fashioned notions. You gaze at the trees so hard you can't see the forest. Yours is an
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ideal, too; but mine is a purer, more exalted one." "Balderdash!" he cried. "Oh, you anger me! Look here, Athol, I came all this way to see you about this matter. It's a long way to come, but I knew my brother was needing me and I'd have gone round the world for you. You never told me anything of
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this girl in your letters. You were ashamed." "I knew I could never make you understand." "You might have tried. I'm not so dense in the understanding. No, you would not tell me, and I've had letters, warning letters. It was left to other people to tell me how you drank and gambled and squandered your money; how you were
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like to a madman. They told me you had settled down to live with one of the creatures, a woman who had made her living in the dance-halls, and every one knows no woman ever did that and remained straight. They warned me of the character of this girl, of your infatuation, of your callousness to public opinion. They told
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me how barefaced, how shameless you were. They begged me to try and save you. I would not believe it, but now I've come to see for myself, and it's all true, it's all true." He bowed his head in emotion. "Oh, she's good!" I cried. "If you knew her you would think so, too. You, too, would love her."
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"Heaven forbid! Boy, I must save you. I must, for the honour of the old name that's never been tarnished. I must make you come home with me." He put both hands on my shoulders, looking commandingly into my face. "No, no," I said, "I'll never leave her." "It will be all right. We can pay her. It can be
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arranged. Think of the honour of the old name, lad." I shook him off. "Pay!"--I laughed ironically. "Pay" in connection with the name of Berna--again I laughed. "She's good," I said once again. "Wait a little till you know her. Don't judge her yet. Wait a little." He saw it was of no use to waste further words on me.
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He sighed. "Well, well," he said, "have it your own way. I think she's ruining you. She's dragging you down, sapping your moral principles, lowering your standard of pure living. She must be bad, bad, or she wouldn't live with you like that. But have it your own way, boy; I'll wait and see." In the crystalline days that followed
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I did much to bring about a friendship between Garry and Berna. At first I had difficulty in dragging him to the house, but in a little while he came quite willingly. The girl, too, aided me greatly. In her sweet, shy way she did her best to win his regard, so that as the winter advanced a great change
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came over him. He threw off that stern manner of his as an actor throws off a part, and once again he was the dear old Garry I knew and loved. His sunny charm returned, and with it his brilliant smile, his warm, endearing frankness. He was now twenty-eight, and if there was a handsomer man in the Northland I
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had yet to see him. I often envied him for his fine figure and his clean, vivid colour. It was a wonderfully expressive face that looked at you, firm and manly, and, above all, clever. You found a pleasure in the resonant sweetness of his voice. You were drawn irresistibly to the man, even as you would have been drawn
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to a beautiful woman. He was winning, lovable, yet back of all his charm there was that great quality of strength, of austere purpose. He made a hit with every one, and I verily believe that half the women in the town were in love with him. However, he was quite unconscious of it, and he stalked through the streets
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with the gait of a young god. I knew there were some who for a smile would have followed him to the ends of the earth, but Garry was always a man's man. Never do I remember the time when he took an interest in a woman. I often thought, if women could have the man of their choice, a
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few handsome ones like Garry would monopolise them, while we common mortals would go wifeless. Sometimes it has seemed to me that love is but a second-hand article, and that our matings are at best only makeshifts. I must say I tried very hard to reconcile those two. I threw them together on every opportunity, for I wanted him to
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understand and to love her. I felt he had but to know her to appreciate her at her true value, and, although he spoke no word to me, I was soon conscious of a vast change in him. Short of brotherly regard, he was everything that could be desired to her--cordial, friendly, charming. Once I asked Berna what she thought
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of him. "I think he's splendid," she said quietly. "He's the handsomest man I've ever seen, and he's as nice as he's good-looking. In many ways you remind me of him--and yet there's a difference." "I remind you of him--no, girl. I'm not worthy to be his valet. He's as much above me as I am above--say a siwash. He
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has all the virtues; I, all the faults. Sometimes I look at him and I see in him my ideal self. He is all strength, all nobility, while I am but a commonplace mortal, full of human weaknesses. He is the self I should have been if the worst had been the best." "Hush! you are my sweetheart," she assured
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me with a caress, "and the dearest in the world." "By the way, Berna," I said, "you remember something we talked about before he came? Don't you think that now----?" "Now----?" "Yes." "All right." She flashed a glad, tender look at me and left the room. That night she was strangely elated. Every evening Garry would drop in and talk
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to us. Berna would look at him as he talked and her eyes would brighten and her cheeks flush. On both of us he had a strangely buoyant effect. How happy we could be, just we three. It was splendid having near me the two I loved best on earth. That was a memorable winter, mild and bright and buoyant.
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At last Spring came with gracious days of sunshine. The sleighing was glorious, but I was busy, very busy, so that I was glad to send Garry and Berna off together in a smart cutter, and see them come home with their cheeks like roses, their eyes sparkling and laughter in their voices. I never saw Berna looking so well
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and happy. I was head over ears in work. In a mail just arrived I had a letter from the Prodigal, and a certain paragraph in it set me pondering. Here it was: "You must look out for Locasto. He was in New York a week ago. He's down and out. Blood-poisoning set in in his foot after he got
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outside, and eventually he had to have it taken off. He's got a false mit for the one Mac sawed off. But you should see him. He's all shot to pieces with the 'hooch.' It's a fright the pace he's gone. I had an interview with him, and he raved and blasphemed horribly. Seemed to have a terrible pick at
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you. Seems you have copped out his best girl, the only one he ever cared a red cent for. Said he would get even with you if he swung for it. I think he's dangerous, even a madman. He is leaving for the North now, so be on your guard." Locasto coming! I had almost forgotten his existence. Well, I
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no longer cared for him. I could afford to despise him. Surely he would never dare to molest us. If he did--he was a broken, discredited blackguard. I could crush him. Coming here! He must even now be on the way. I had a vision of him speeding along that desolate trail, sitting in the sleigh wrapped in furs, and
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brooding, brooding. As day after day the spell of the great and gloomy land grew on his spirit, I could see the sombre eyes darken and deepen. I could see him in the road-house at night, gaunt and haggard, drinking at the bar, a desperate, degraded cripple. I could see him growing more reckless every day, every hour. He was
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coming back to the scene of his ruined fortunes, and God knows with what wild schemes of vengeance his heart was full. Decidedly I must beware. As I sat there dreaming, a ring came to the 'phone. It was the foreman at Gold Hill. "The hoisting machine has broken down," he told me. "Can you come out and see what
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is required?" "All right," I replied. "I'll leave at once." "Berna," I said, "I'll have to go out to the Forks to-night. I'll be back early to-morrow. Get me a bite to eat, dear, while I go round and order the horse." On my way I met Garry and told him I would be gone over night. "Won't you come?"
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I asked. "No, thanks, old man, I don't feel like a night drive." "All right. Good-bye." So I hurried off, and soon after, with a jingle of bells, I drove up to my door. Berna had made supper. She seemed excited. Her eyes were starry bright, her cheeks burned. "Aren't you well, sweetheart?" I asked. "You look feverish." "Yes, dear,
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I'm well. But I don't want you to go to-night. Something tells me you shouldn't. Please don't go, dear. Please, for my sake." "Oh, nonsense, Berna! You know I've been away before. Get one of the neighbour's wives to sleep with you. Get in Mrs. Brooks." "Oh, don't go, don't go, I beg you, dear. I don't want you to.
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I'm afraid, I'm afraid. Won't some one else do?" "Nonsense, girl. You mustn't be so foolish. It's only for a few hours. Here, I'll ring up Mrs. Brooks and you can ask her." She sighed. "No, never mind. I'll ring her up after you've gone." She clung to me tightly, so that I wondered what had got into the girl.
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Then gently I kissed her, disengaged her hands, and bade her good-night. As I was rattling off through the darkness, a boy handed me a note. I put it in my pocket, thinking I would read it when I reached Ogilvie Bridge. Then I whipped up the horse. The night was crisp and exhilarating. I had one of the best
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trotters in the country, and the sleighing was superb. As I sped along, with a jingle of bells, my spirits rose. Things were looking splendid. The mine was turning out far better than we had expected. Surely we could sell out soon, and I would have all the money I wanted. Even then the Prodigal was putting through a deal
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in New York that would realise our fortunes. My life-struggle was nearly over. Then again, I had reconciled Garry to Berna. When I told him of a certain secret I was hugging to my breast he would capitulate entirely. How happy we would all be! I would buy a small estate near home, and we would settle down. But first
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we would spend a few years in travel. We would see the whole world. What good times we would have, Berna and I! Bless her! It had all worked out beautifully. Why was she so frightened, so loath to let me go? I wondered vaguely and flicked up the horse so that it plunged sharply forward. The vast blue-black sky
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was like an inverted gold-pan and the stars were flake colours adhering to it. The cold snapped at me till my cheeks tingled, and my eyes felt as if they could spark. Oh, life was sweet! Bother! In my elation I had forgotten to get off at the Old Inn and read my note. Never mind, I would keep it
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till I reached the Forks. As I spun along, I thought of how changed it all was from the Bonanza I first knew. How I remembered tramping along that hillside slope, packing a sack of flour over a muddy trail, a poor miner in muddy overalls! Now I was driving a smart horse on a fine road. I was an
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operator of a first-class mine. I was a man of business, of experience. Higher and higher my spirits rose. How fast the horse flew! I would be at the Forks in no time. I flashed past cabin windows. I saw the solitary oil-lamp and the miner reading his book or filling his pipe. Never was there a finer, more intelligent
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man; but his day was passing. The whole country was falling into the hands of companies. Soon, thought I, one or two big combines would control the whole wealth of that land. Already they had their eyes on it. The gold-ships would float and roar where the old-time miner toiled with pick and pan. Change! Change! I almost fancied I
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could see the monster dredges ploughing up the valley, where now men panted at the windlass. I could see vast heaps of tailings filling the creek-bed; I could hear the crash of the steel grizzlies; I could see the buckets scooping up the pay-dirt. I felt strangely prophetic. My imagination ran riot in all kinds of wonders, great power plants,
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quartz discoveries. Change! Change! Yes, the stamp-mill would add its thunder to the other voices; the country would be netted with wires, and clamorous for far and wide. Man had sought out this land where Silence had reigned so long. He had awakened the echoes with the shot of his rifle and the ring of his axe. Silence had raised
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a startled head and poised there, listening. Then, with crack of pick and boom of blast, man had hurled her back. Further and further had he driven her. With his advancing horde, mad in their lust for the loot of the valley, he had banished her. His engines had frightened her with their canorous roar. His crashing giants had driven
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her cowering to the inviolate fastnesses of her hills. And there she broods and waits. But Silence will return. To her was given the land that she might rule and have dominion over it forever. And in a few years the clamour will cease, the din will die away. In a few years the treasure will be exhausted, and the
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looters will depart. The engines will lie in rust and ruin; the wind will sweep through the empty homes; the tailing-piles lie pallid in the moon. Then the last man will strike the last blow, and Silence will come again into her own. Yea, Silence will come home once more. Again will she rule despotic over peak and plain. She
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is only waiting, brooding in the impregnable desolation of her hills. To her has been given empery of the land, and hand in hand with Darkness will she return. Ha! here I had reached the Forks at last. As I drew up at the hotel, the clerk came out to meet me. "Gent wants to speak to you at the
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'phone, sir." It was Murray of Dawson, an old-timer, and rather a friend of mine. "Hello!" "Hello! Say, Meldrum, this is Murray speaking. Say, just wanted to let you know there's a stage due some time before morning. Locasto's on board, and they say he's heeled for you. Thought I'd better tell you so's you can get fixed up for
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him." "All right," I answered. "Thank you. I'll turn and come right back." So I switched round the horse, and once more I drove over the glistening road. No longer did I plan and exult. Indeed a grim fear was gripping me. Of a sudden the shadow of Locasto loomed up sinister and menacing. Even now he was speeding Dawsonward
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with a great hatred of me in his heart. Well, I would get back and prepare for him. There came to my mind a comic perception of the awkwardness of returning to one's own home unexpectedly, in the dead of night. At first I decided I would go to a hotel, then on second thoughts I determined to try the
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house, for I had a desire to be near Berna. I knocked gently, then a little louder, then at last quite loudly. Within all was still, dark as a sepulchre. Curious! she was such a light sleeper, too. Why did she not hear me? Once more I decided to go to the hotel; once more that vague, indefinite fear assailed
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me and again I knocked. And now my fear was becoming a panic. I had my latch-key in my pocket, so very quietly I opened the door. I was in the front room, and it was dark, very dark and quiet. I could not even hear her breathe. "Berna," I whispered. No reply. That dim, nameless dread was clutching at
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my heart, and I groped overhead in the darkness for the drop-light. How hard it was to find! A dozen times my hand circled in the air before I knocked my knuckles against it. I switched it on. Instantly the cabin was flooded with light. In the dining-room I could see the remains of our supper lying untidily. That was
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not like her. She had a horror of dirty dishes. I passed into the bedroom--Ah! the bed had never been slept on. What a fool I was! It flashed on me she had gone over to Mrs. Brooks' to sleep. She was afraid of being alone. Poor little girl! How surprised she would be to see me in the morning!
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Well, I would go to bed. As I was pulling off my coat, I found the note that had been given to me. Blaming myself for my carelessness, I pulled it out of my pocket and opened it. As I unfolded the sheet, I noticed it was written in what looked like a disguised hand. Strange! I thought. The writing
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was small and faint. I rubbed my eyes and held it up to the light. Merciful God! What was this? Oh no, it could not be! My eyes were deceiving me. It was some illusion. Feverishly I read again. Yes, they were the same words. What could they mean? Surely, surely--Oh, horror on horrors! They could not mean THAT. Again
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I read them. Yes, there they were: "If you are fool enough to believe that Berna is faithful to you visit your brother's room to-night. "A wellwisher." Berna! Garry!--the two I loved. Oh, it could not be! It was monstrous! It was too horrible! I would not believe it; I would not. Curse the vile wretch that wrote such words!
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I would kill him. Berna! my Berna! she was as good as gold, as true as steel. Garry! I would lay my life on his honour. Oh, vile calumny! what devil had put so foul a thing in words? God! it hurt me so, it hurt me so! Dazedly I sat down. A sudden rush of heat was followed by
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a sweat that pricked out of me and left me cold. I trembled. I saw a ghastly vision of myself in a mirror. I felt sick, sick. Going to the decanter on the bureau, I poured myself a stiff jolt of whisky. Again I sat down. The paper lay on the hearthrug, and I stared at it hatefully. It was
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unspeakably loathsome, yet I was fascinated by it. I longed to take it up, to read it again. Somehow I did not dare. I was becoming a coward. Well, it was a lie, a black devil's lie. She was with one of the neighbours. I trusted her. I would trust her with my life. I would go to bed. In
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the morning she would return, and then I would unearth the wretch who had dared to write such things. I began to undress. Slowly I unfastened my collar--that cursed paper; there it lay. Again it fascinated me. I stood glaring at it. Oh, fool! fool! go to bed. Wearily I took off my clothes--Oh, that devilish note! It was burning
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into my brain--it would drive me mad. In a frenzy of rage, I took it up as if it were some leprous thing, and dropped it in the fire. There I lay in bed with the darkness enfolding me, and I closed my eyes to make a double darkness. Ha! right in the centre of my eyes, burned the fatal
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paper with its atrocious suggestion. I sprang up. It was of no use. I must settle this thing once and for all. I turned on the light and deliberately dressed again. I was going to the hotel where Garry had his room. I would tell him I had come back unexpectedly and ask to share his room. I was not
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acting on the note! I did not suspect her. Heaven forbid! But the thing had unnerved me. I could not stay in this place. The hotel was quiet. A sleepy night-clerk stared at me, and I pushed past him. Garry's rooms were on the third floor. As I climbed the long stairway, my heart was beating painfully, and when I
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reached his door I was sadly out of breath. Through the transom I could see his light was burning. I knocked faintly. There was a sudden stir. Again I knocked. Did my ears deceive me or did I hear a woman's startled cry? There was something familiar about it--Oh, my God! I reeled. I almost fell. I clutched at the
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doorframe. I leaned sickly against the door for support. Heaven help me! "I'm coming," I heard him say. The door was unlocked, and there he stood. He was fully dressed. He looked at me with an expression on his face I could not define, but he was very calm. "Come in," he said. I went into his sitting-room. Everything was
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in order. I would have sworn I heard a woman scream, and yet no one was in sight. The bedroom door was slightly ajar. I eyed it in a fascinated way. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Garry," I said, and I was conscious how strained and queer my voice sounded. "I got back suddenly, and there's no one at home.
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I want to stay here with you, if you don't mind." "Certainly, old man; only too glad to have you." His voice was steady. I sat down on the edge of a chair. My eyes were riveted on that bedroom door. "Had a good drive?" he went on genially. "You must be cold. Let me give you some whisky." My
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teeth were chattering. I clutched the chair. Oh, that door! My eyes were fastened on it. I was convinced I heard some one in there. He rose to get the whisky. "Say when?" I held the glass with a shaking hand: "When." "What's the matter, old man? You're ill." I clutched him by the arm. "Garry, there's some one in
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that room." "Nonsense! there's no one there." "There is, I tell you. Listen! Don't you hear them breathing?" He was quiet. Distinctly I could hear the panting of human breath. I was going mad, mad. I could stand it no longer. "Garry," I gasped, "I'm going to see, I'm going to see." "Don't----" "Yes, I must, I say. Let me
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go. I'll drag them out." "Hold on----" "Leave go, man! I'm going, I say. You won't hold me. Let go, I tell you, let go--Now come out, come out, whoever you are--Ah!" It was a woman. "Ha!" I cried, "I told you so, brother; a woman. I think I know her, too. Here, let me see--I thought so." I had
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clutched her, pulled her to the light. It was Berna. Her face was white as chalk, her eyes dilated with terror. She trembled. She seemed near fainting. "I thought so." Now that it seemed the worst was betrayed to me, I was strangely calm. "Berna, you're faint. Let me lead you to a chair." I made her sit down. She
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said no word, but looked at me with a wild pleading in her eyes. No one spoke. There we were, the three of us: Berna faint with fear, ghastly, pitiful; I calm, yet calm with a strange, unnatural calmness, and Garry--he surprised me. He had seated himself, and with the greatest _sang-froid_ he was lighting a cigarette. A long tense
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silence. At last I broke it. "What have you got to say for yourself, Garry?" I asked. It was wonderful how calm he was. "Looks pretty bad, doesn't it, brother?" he said gravely. "Yes, it couldn't look worse." "Looks as if I was a pretty base, despicable specimen of a man, doesn't it?" "Yes, about as base as a man
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could be." "That's so." He rose and turned up the light of a large reading-lamp, then coming to me he looked me square in the face. Abruptly his casual manner dropped. He grew sharp, forceful; his voice rang clear. "Listen to me." "I'm listening." "I came out here to save you, and I'm going to save you. You wanted me
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to believe that this girl was good. You believed it. You were bewitched, befooled, blinded. I could see it, but I had to make you see it. I had to make you realise how worthless she was, how her love for you was a sham, a pretence to prey on you. How could I prove it? You would not listen
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to reason: I had to take other means. Now, hear me." "I hear." "I laid my plans. For three months I've tried to conquer her, to win her love, to take her from you. She was truer to you than I had bargained for; I must give her credit for that. She made a good fight, but I think I
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have triumphed. To-night she came to my room at my invitation." "Well?" "Well. You got a note. _Now, I wrote that note._ I planned this scene, this discovery. I planned it so that your eyes would be opened, so that you would see what she was, so that you would cast her from you--unfaithful, a wanton, a----" "Hold on there,"
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I broke in; "brother of mine or no, I won't hear you call her those names; no, not if she were ten times as unfaithful. You won't, I say. I'll choke the words in your throat. I'll kill you, if you utter a word against her. Oh, what have you done?" "What have I done! Try to be calm, man.
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What have I done? Well, this is what I've done, and it's the lucky day for you I've done it. I've saved you from shame; I've freed you from sin; I've shown you the baseness of this girl." He rose to his feet. "Oh, my brother, I've stolen from you your mistress; that's what I've done." "Oh, no, you haven't,"
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I groaned. "God forgive you, Garry; God forgive you! She's not my--not what you think. She's my _wife_!" I thought that he would faint. His face went white as paper and he shrank back. He gazed at me with wild, straining eyes. "God forgive me! Oh, why didn't you tell me, boy? Why didn't you tell me?" In his voice
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there was a note more poignant than a sob. "You should have trusted me," he went on. "You should have told me. When were you married?" "Just a month ago. I was keeping it as a surprise for you. I was waiting till you said you liked and thought well of her. Oh, I thought you would be pleased and
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glad, and I was treasuring it up to tell you." "This is terrible, terrible!" His voice was choked with agony. On her chair, Berna drooped wearily. Her wide, staring eyes were fixed on the floor in pitiful perplexity. "Yes, it's terrible enough. We were so happy. We lived so joyously together. Everything was perfect, a heaven for us both. And
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then you came, you with your charm that would lure an angel from high heaven. You tried your power on my poor little girl, the girl that never loved but me. And I trusted you, I tried to make you and her friends. I left you together. In my blind innocence I aided you in every way--a simple, loving fool.
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Oh, now I see!" "Yes, yes, I know. Your words stab me. It's all true, true." "You came like a serpent, a foul, crawling thing, to steal her from me, to wrong me. She was loving, faithful, pure. You would have dragged her in the mire. You----" "Stop, brother, stop, for Heaven's sake! You wrong me." He held out his
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hand commandingly. A wonderful change had come over him. His face had regained its calm. It was proud, stern. "You must not think I would have been guilty of that," he said quietly. "I've played a part I never thought to play; I've done a thing I never thought to have dirtied my hands in the doing, and I'm sorry
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and ashamed for it. But I tell you, Athol--that's all. As God's my witness, I've done you no wrong. Surely you don't think me as low as that? Surely you don't believe that of me? I did what I did for my very love for you, for your honour's sake. I asked her here that you might see what she
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was--but that's all, I swear it. She's been as safe as if in a cage of steel." "I know it," I said; "I know it. You don't need to tell me that. You brought her here to expose her, to show me what a fool I was. It didn't matter how much it hurt me, the more the better, anything
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to save the name. You would have broken my heart, sacrificed me on the altar of your accursed pride. Oh, I can see plainly now! There's a thousand years of prejudice and bigotry concentrated in you. Thank God, I have a human heart!" "I thought I was acting for the best!" he cried. I laughed scornfully. "I know it--according to
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your lights. You asked her here that I might see what she was. You tell me you have gained her love; you say she came here at your bidding; you swear she would have been unfaithful to me. Well, I tell you, brother of mine, in your teeth I tell you--_I don't believe you!_" Suddenly the little, drooping figure on
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the chair had raised itself; the white, woe-begone face with the wide, staring eyes was turned towards me; the pitiful look had gone, and in its stead was one of wild, unspeakable joy. "It's all right, Berna," I said; "I don't believe him, and if a million others were to say the same, if they were to thunder it in
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my ears down all eternity, I would tell them they lied, they lied!" A heaven-lit radiance was in the grey eyes. She made as if to come to me, but she swayed, and I caught her in my arms. "Don't be frightened, little girl. Give me your hand. See! I'll kiss it, dear. Now, don't cry; don't, honey." Her arms
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were around me. She clung to me ever so tightly. "Garry," I said, "this is my wife. When I have lost my belief in all else, I will believe in her. You have made us both suffer. As for what you've said--you're mistaken. She's a good, good girl. I will not believe that by thought, word or deed she has
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been untrue to me. She will explain everything. Now, good-bye. Come, Berna." Suddenly she stopped me. Her hand was on my arm, and she turned towards Garry. She held herself as proudly as a queen. "I want to explain now," she said, "before you both." She pulled from her bosom a little crumpled note, and handed it to me. Then,
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as I read it, a great light burst on me. Here it was: "Dear Berna: "For heaven's sake be on your guard. Jack Locasto is on his way north again. I think he's crazy. I know he'll stick at nothing, and I don't want to see blood spilt. He says he means to wipe out all old scores. For your
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sake, and for the sake of one dear to you, be warned. "In haste, "Viola Lennoir." "I got it two days ago," she said. "Oh, I've been distracted with fear. I did not like to show it to you. I've brought you nothing but trouble, and I've never spoken of him, never once. You understand, don't you?" "Yes, little girl,
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