Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
This article displays in one automatically-generated column. View the full page to see article in its original form.

AN INNOCENT JUDAS.

[By Chabixs Proctoh.] (Continued from Wednesday’s issue.) CHAPTER XXIX. IBJS KNIFE. Th» meeting at the Lancaster Institute, although to some extent a matter of purely local interest, was rendered important from a newspaper point of view oy the presence of Raeburn Chesterton, for Raotrara was one of the few orators England possessed, and the public always paid him the compliment of reading his speeches. Consequently there were several reporters present when Raeburn so dramatically collapsed, and these newspaper men, as well as Mr Atherley, wailed at tho Midland Hotel until tho doctor ami the specialist had delivered their verdict. Hence it came about that before Raeburn had left Manchester on tbo following morning the story of his collapse, the nature of his illness, and tho fact that ho would bo compelled to undergo a serious operation were known all over tho kingdom. "The amazing young man" once again was the chief “news item" of the day, but for once he was not in the least interested. Indeed, he did not even trouble to glance at the morning papers, else some of the paragraphs might have afforded him a certain amount of gi im amusement, for there were few papers but chronicled the fact that Air Raeburn Chesterton was engaged to be married t;i tho daughter of Hie Prime Minister. Before ho toft for London Raeburn received two telegrams which caused him “furiously to think." The first was from Mark Samp ion, and rend: “Sincere sympathy. AVi re time of train. AA’ill meet you at station.—Sampson." The second was more lengthy, and Raeburns forehead corrugated as he road it: “Please forgive. Deeply sorry to hear of your illness, and feel sure I am responsible. I withdraw all I said yesterday, and ask your pardon. Do wire immediately. Anxious.—Violet .’* After much deliberation lie wiotc and despatched his reply : “You are blameless. Cannot accent sacrifice. AVill write later.—Raeburn.” To Mark Sampson ho wired the time of his departure: then, having attended to one or two matters of business, he received the doctor and prepared for h:> Journey. Ho had spent a fairly good night, and was felling much better, wax able to get rbout without assistance, and found it hard to believe sometimes that ho was really in a dangerous condition. The doctor suggested that ho should engage a nurse to travel with him in case of a sadden collapse, but Raeburn would not hear of this. “I feel quite fit. and am sure T can undertake the journey.” he protested. “I skill be quite all right, and shall be met at. Fusim by a friend." ‘There is a certain ri.-k," began Ui.doctor. “FII take the risk, doctor." said Raeburn, firmly. “ 1 repeat that lam going to travel alone." In vain did the medical man argue and utter gloomy prophecies. Raeburn I.ml niade up his mind, and he travelled alone back to London. Only once during the journey did he have a twinge of the pain that had caused his collapse on the previous evening, but fortunately it na-od off quickly, and he stepped quite krishLfrom the train at Euston to greet Mark, who bad been anxiously awaiting his arrival. “Alone. Rae?" exclaimed Alark. in surprise. a; he gripped his hand "He travels fastest who travel- alone." quoted Raeburn, with a smile. “ I suppose you expected me to arrive on a stretcher, eh?" “Not exactly, hut I did not think you would be well enough to travel alone," answered Mark. “ Perhaps the newspapers reave exaggerated ?" “I don’t know, Alark. I haven't scon the papers, but according to the Manchester’doctors it will be a to-s tin whether 1 live or go out. They didn’t say eo in .as many words, of course, but they implied *« mbch. I am going etraigiu to Sir Pereival Tripp’s place in Wimpole street now for another examination. * Will you drive there with me? 1 want to have a long_ talk with you once 1 have had the specialist’s final verdict.’' "Certainly," said Alnrk. promptly, and signalled to a taxi. " Keep your pecker up. old chap! You’re going to pull through all right.” "A\e shall see, Alark," Raeburn responded, with an inscrutable smile. “ Acrordiug to the Alanchester men the trouble has been creeping on for months, and my fool of a doctor has been treating mo for nervous breakdown and liver trouble." He spoke but little during the short drive from the station to Wimpolo street, and on_ his arrival at the great surgeon's establishment he was informed that Sir Pereival was waiting to receive him. “Sure you don’t mind waiting, old chap?” he inquired of. Alark, who found himself wondering if his cheerfulness was forced, assumed to control his real fedings. “Of course not. Rae.” Alark replied quicklv. " Good luck to you; Alav all your fears be dissipated.” “I have no fears,” said Raeburn, over his shoulder, ns he followed tho man-ser-vant out of the waiting room. Mark took tin a book from the table and tried to read, but his mind wandered. Mis thoughts were with the man in the consulting room. He wondered what was happening, wondered if Marion had read of Raeburn’s illness, and what her feelings were, and the words on the printed page conveyed no meaning to him. Nearly an hour had elapsed, and Alark had thrown the bosk aside and taken to pacing tho big. brightly-furnished waiting room, when the door opened, and Raeburn. accompanied by Sir Pereival Tripp, a big, handsome, bearded man, reappeared. His face was very white, but he war smiling, and his hazel-grey eyes met Mark’f anxious glance confidently and calmly. “ Sir Pereival has confirmed tho opinions of the Manchester doctors, Sampson." Ije announced, -when he had introduced the two men, “and ho has been good enough to tell me the plain, unvarnished truth. A aerioua operation is necctsavy, and my lifs is in jeopardy.” “ But we shall pull rou through, Mr Chesterton,” interposed Sir Pereival, confidently. patting him on the shoulder. " You have pluck and vitality, and need have no fear. The chances are all in your favor, and we shall have you back at work again before the season is over. AVo couldn’t afford to lose you. you know." He laughed, and held out his hand, which Raeburn clasped warmly. “1 am quite satisfied to leave myself in your hands. Sir Pereival,” ho said. “ I know yon will do your best for me. Sir Pereival has granted me a few hours’ respite, Mark." he added, turning to Alark again, “just to settle up some matters of business, and so forth. I am coming back here this evening.” He was still smiling as ho and Alark ivent out into the afternoon sunshine and entered a cab which a footman had sum moned. “You'll come b«.-k with me to my chambers, Alark?" he ask d. and Mark nodded, biting herd at his under-lip. There was silence between them for a few minutes as th- taxi raced away from Wimpole street. Each sat staring" before him. busy with , own t.'.si lights; then at last Raeburn : “hed. produced his eigarette-case eigtrette. Alark. watching him. that ihe hand that held the match quite steady, and he marvelled again r; Raeburn’s composure. “This respite is real?- an opportunity given me to set my liouv. in order,” Raeourn explained- “Alike my will and all that start of thing, in case ef anything ksvaning. Have a cigarette, old man?” “Thanke*. Jeve, Raeburn, but you’ve rt frftl" exclaimed Mark. “I tlunk if were is yenr place 1 should be in a bine funk, although, of course,” he added, hastily, “there is no real danger. Sir Pereival will pull you through aU right, ni' chap." *

Raeburn shrugged his shoulders and smilci. and they smoked in silence until the cab drew up at his chambers. “Now to business, Mark," he exclaimed, when they had entered his sitting room and ensconced themselves in armchairs. “You are wondering, I see. at my composure. Don't you recognise that T have found a way out—which explains evervthing?" “A way out?” queried Mark. “Exactly, Mark. Tho knife. I feel as sure that I shall die under the knife as I do that tho sun will rise tomorrow morning." “Chesterton, (his is absurd." protested Mark, rising from his chair, but Raeburn motioned him back. “ It is tho truth, and I am not sorry," ho resumed. “I have prayed fur a way out, and this is it. Since 1 lost inter*’.- 1 in my career—since I lost Mar-on—life has had no attraction for me, and I shall bo glad to go. It simplifies matters for me. for Lady Alolet—and for—and for Marion and you." “ Rae, for Cod’s iako don’t talk like that." _ gasped Mark, hparselv. “ Your life is in the hands of one ” “Listen, Mark," interrupted Raeburn, quietly “ Don’t upset yourself about me, old chap. I want you to promise to do something. I am wonied about Marion. I realise now that I treated her abominably, that I deserve her contemnt. that I was never worthy of her.” He paised. breathing hard, showing signs of agitation for the ilrst time. "You live her, Mark,” he went on quickly, recovering himself. “I wu-: yon to promise me that you will ask her again to marry you. You will make her happy ; you are a better man than 1. and once 1 am out of the way Marion will be able to forgot—perhaps to forgive. \ want yon. Mark, to try to wipe out tho memory of my cruelty,' to ” " She still loves you,” interpolated Mark, suddenly, in a voice that slu.uk. "Wrong. Mark! I saw her last night —did I tell you?—and there was m- mistaking the look of contempt in her face. It made me wince No, her love for me is dead, Mark, and I want you to sch.e your chance." " You arc not going to die, 'Raeburn." Mark insisted. “Yon arc going to live." "My dear old chap, I t-.di you I haw nothing to live for—wouldn't live it 1 I think it was Leslie ]!ivaksp:iuwho first made me realise, months ago. what kind o: cur I had been, and lately- Rut why talk? A way of escape has opsin i? out for me. You’ll ch> what I ask, o!d (hap, lor her sake—as a last favor to me?’’ "If you visit it, Rae," said Mark, brokenly. " But you’re tot going to die. You muet make a light for life. Y'ou have no right to die ; there i.< work for von to do." “Mark, old man, I am not going to die purposely. It won’t be a. case of suicide, and I promise vnu if 1 recover I snail turn my hand and my brain to the work that presents itself. Would t-- Hod i. had 'tiling away ambition - years ago, and worked for tbo good of my fellows instead •>; simply lor my own aggrandisement ! Rut it i.s too late now for rvgictc. 1 feel it in my bones that I shall die under the knife. So this is good-bye. dear pal. ’ Lie had risen and was holding out his hand as ho spoke, and Maik, with tears in Ids honest eyes, was fighting hard for eel f-control. “You won’t forget. Mark?" asked l!:m----burn, as Mark crushed ins ling is in a \yce-like grip. “ Good-byo. Hod bless you, old man ! ’ Mark tried to sp-v,k, but faiitd. and rurld-’nly turned and blundered out of the room. Raeburn it--od still until tho outer door bad closed, thou he so-led wearily and dropped back into a. daoi. -only to rise again a. few ndnun-s Ini -r. "Time i.s thin.." lie mui'n-ird, “and there is nmeli to do." lie seated him-xdf at ids desk and wrote several letters, incla ling one to Lady Violet. in which, ha li.ankly adinittid that he had it, tlm firs', pi.i.-e asked h,-.- to marry him merely beeaux* tim mirr-ago would imp-row h:s position, ami not l-waii?.; he loved her lie Ivirged her to put him out of liar th audits, and suggested that his illness would piovide a good exetts-:.* for announeing that tle-ir in.u l ia.v iiad lvw.i indefinitely jie.stpou.--d; hinted. t0,., that he might no* recover, and that if she d’laved her marriage to Lord Bateman she might b*' ;a;v. i a.ny trmiide and would avoid al! gossip anil scandal. 1 ben In* dr. ’.o to bis lav vers, left some iwirnetions regarding Hie -h-posn! of his effects in I jxc- event of his death, signed a number -.{ doeunvml?, and out his affair:, in ord-'i. Having coinnlrtc;! this living business. he retr'-rn -bored suddenly tint ho bad eaten nothing sit c- rmuiiing. sxltovo to bis clu’>, Inal n. staick. shook hand? with one or two of hi.-; iVl'ow-nieinhcrs. ami then paid a soiies of hurried calls on various friends ami relatives. “It is flukled now," be said aloud, after a final vi it to his chambers, a final look I'lan-i, iii-d a few final words with Ids servant, who did not trouble to ,-omval hit; giio;. " l-ixit Raeburn Chesterton Half an hour later lie presented himself at Sir I’er ■ iv: 1 1 Tripp? bouse in AVimpole str-el, 'noking calm and composed. “I have set my bouse in order, Sir Pereival." be announced, as he shook hands, “and now 1 am readv for the knife." CHARTER XXX. “ -rut: v.M.uiY or Tin: snvnow." .A I ark Sampson was face to face with the biggest problem ha bad over tackled, and he pared up and down bis silling room iu Albai y .'audios like a man distracted. his bauds thrust deep into his pockets, his brows knitted together in in tense thought, lie had looked his door to .secure himself from interruption, and was resolved that ho should find a.' way cut of his difficulty. Racbum Chcstmton's life and tho happiness of at least one woman were at stake ; of that he felt sure, and the question was how to save both. Raeburn had told him nothing about, his engagement to Lady Violet having been broken off, otherwise the problem that confronted Mark would have been easier ox solution. " I believe Marlon still loves him, that he is mistaken in thinking that she despif.ttj him and regards him with contempt ’’ Miivk, as lie pa:.*c<l to ami tvo. “1 believe that li bo knew, that Marion still loved him, believe that if he was free to many her and she willing to marry him, Raeburn would have a fighting chance. But at present the other woman stands in the way : ho is pledged to her, and even if Marion still loves him there is no honorable way out. He is choosing what ho thinks is the easiest and only way out —death. Ho has made up Iris mind to die, and the man resolved to die after a serious operation generally succeeds in doing so. God! If only I could think of something!" Worm out at lust by the strain, he flung himself down on the comfortable old couch bv the window, filled his big briar pipe, and for a. time- lay passive, smoking and thinking furiously. \Vhv was he so anxious about Raeburn? he asked himself, as he lay staring up at the ceiling. -After all. Raeburn was only a college chum. He had been a placeseeker, a man drunk with ambition and tho lust for power, and he had done his best to break Alavion’s heart. AA’as it so essential that bo,_A.La.rk Sampson, should find a way to spoil the love story he, had planned for himself? Aiarion liked him well—so much lie knew. War it not possible—nay, probable —that once Raeburn Chesterton was out of the way, she might learn to lovo him. might give him his heart's desire? AA'hnt was the use of worrying, of racking his brains to bring Aiarion and Raeburn togetlicr again when Fate was playing into his hands so admirably? Had he not done enougli already ? It would be so easy to do nothing, to sit still and await events; then to claim Marion, and tell her that it had been Raeburn's last wish that ! she should marry him. _ That would carry weight if he was right in his surmise that Marion loved Raeburn. For a time Mark lay still, sucking at his pipe, flirting with the temptation that : assailed him, then suddenly he sprang up, his face burning, feeling guilty and , ashamed.

“Alark Sampson, you’re rather .a menu sort of dog,” he apostrophised himself. •‘You know that if you sit still ami do nothing and Rae Chesterton dies, you will feel like a murderer. Play tho game, you toward!’’ | }lo walked across to the fireplace, ! knocked) the ashes from his pipe, refilled j it, and stared thoughtfully across the 1 room. “This is the position," lie) said, aloud. “Alaiion believes Raeburn never aired for ; her, whereas I know he still loves her. i Raeburn thinks Aiarion only thinks of him I with scornful contempt and is heartless. I whereas 1 know—or believe—that xlic has I always loved him, and loves him still, i Raeburn is engaged to a woman for whom | lie has no love, therefore ho has no desire j to live.” i Ho scratched hi.s bead, lit his pipe, and | resumed his unea.'-y ponimbulatijii of the* room. ' "By Jove! I'll do it.!” lie cried, sud--1 denlv". “it’s the only way. and there may vet t>e time First, see Alavio.i, then if I "find sho still loves Raeburn, explain bow matters stand, and bog of her to see lardy Abol-X, or 111 t.-'o .Lady A’iolet mvsclf. If Raeburn was free, and knew that Aiarion loved him, be would want to Jive, world make a tight to gei well. Hod grant 1 can manage it in lime." Ho snatched up his hat and coat, searched frantically /or a time-table, and 'turned up the trains for Alanchester. Racj burn, of course, had told him that Aiarion } was in Alanchester, and ho knew lie could j find out where she was stopping by making j inquiries of Air Atherley or at tho Lnu- ' caster Institute. } Glancing hurriedly at his watch, ho was i amazed to find that it wat> 8 o’clock, .and [ ho gleaned us he realT-cvl that he could not j fioscihly reach Manchester until the early hours of the morning " L'qufoimd. it 1 " growled Alark, throwing down his hat. "I can do nothing to-night, 1 unless 1 go by the midnight train and fee [.Marion tirst thing in tho morning.” Tho midnight train is a slow one; morcjover, it was late, and it was 6 o'clock iu the morning when Alark, feeling jaded and stiff, reached Alanchester. It was too early to go iu search oi Aiarion, ho decided, and his best plan would bo to go to an hotel, have a couple of hams’ sleep and a bath before setting out. As hick would have it, ho went to the A’ictoria, Hotel, and the. first name he caught sight of when the visitors’ book | was put forward for him to sign was | that of Marion Lancaster. Congratulating j himself on hie good fortune, lie questioned | tho hotel clerk at mire, only to learn to his chagrin that Marion bad left for Loudon cm the previous evening. H teas only then, as he stood swearing under his breath, that Alark remembered that a telegram to the Lancaster Institute, nr a telephone message to Alarion’s uncle at tho Ravoy. would doubtless have saved him a- fruitless journey. However, there was nothing for it but to return to London. and after snatching an hour's sleep Alnrk caught the B.do to Fusion, which lie readied half an hour after noon, and drove at once to the Savoy. Aiarion, lie learned, was lunching with her unde in the dining room, so Alark scribbled a few worr’e. on the hark id » card, and sent the message in to her by a. waiter. AVitliiu a very few minutes Marion hastened out into the. lounge where ho was waiting, and he saw at a glance that dio had r.ot slept, and was agitated, for there were rings round her fine eyes, and her faro was deathly white, “Mark-." she said, shakily, “llioic is or.etking wtong?" •• Xo. At least, 1 want to a.-k you a question," stammered Alark. by way of answer. "Ho you still love Raeburn Chesterton?” "Do 1? AVhy (I • yni .askmc Ih.at? IkRaeburn sent?" "Answer my question first." said Alark, firmiy. “then 1 will explain. Do you still love him?" dust, for a moment she he-itated. giizuig at hint intently .as if trying to read his thoughts, then she chew in her breath' durjily and Jowet-ed her eves. "Yes. Alark; I love him." she said, in a low voice. “1 have never < -eased to love him. and and 1 would give rny life to - save him now." __ ! ’’ ( ciiff-seij as much." Alark com- ] inciii-’d. very quietly. " Pl-vise sit down i and listen, Marion. I have much to tell j you." j Alar-on y;it down, gazing a! him wen- | deringly. and he plunged at >.* into Ins story, ivvealing ail he knew, and keeping nothing back. He saw Marion’s face fins!: and pale alternately as he proceeded, and tears spring to her grey eyes, saw her hands clutch together convulsively, and her lips move. '■ Ho loves you, and von can save him. Marion.” Alark concluded. “ AVnu’t you forgive him, see Lady Violet as L ask, and give him something to live for? 1 1 know it is an extraordinary thing that J ask you to do. but hi.s life and your own happiness depend upon it." ‘■There is no need lor me to do what van suggest." said Marion, in a voice that faltered. ** I found a note wailing for me Inst night, from Lady A’iolet. when I came hack from Alanchester. 1 don't understand why she wrote it—how she could have found out. 1 have it hero now." From her w.aistbelt she tool: a neatlyfoldod sheet of notepaper. opened it out. j and in silence handed it to Alark. who read in amazement ; i “ Aly Dear Miss Lancaster, —It may interest yon to learn that my engagement to Air Chesterton has been broken o(i, and that I am shortly going to marry Lord Bateman.—Sincerely yours. Violet." "Good Lord!" ejaculated Alark. staring. his eyes wide with surprise. “Broken off! Why—why—this—Raeburn never mentioned " He paused ab ruptly. pulling himself together with a ; jerk. “ Come with me at one: 1 , Afarion !" tie ordered, in chanced tunes. “We are going to save Raeburn." ■'But are you sure'" faltered Aiarion. I mean—l mean, are you sure he—loves me ?" “ Would I. who love you, tell yon if 1 wore not only too fiire?" sail I Alark. “ tome !" Aiarion gave one intent iouk at his ■grim face, then sped away to dree.-, in frantic haste. She did not even -[lans'- to explain matters to her uncle —explanations | could wait till later—merely gasping an I almost incoherent message to her maid, and within 10 minutes she and Alark were | seated in a taxi and upeedirag quicklv la. I wards Nir Poreivtil Tripp's private nursing ! .home in Wimpole street. Fortunately, Sir Vereiva-l was ai home, j hut he declined courteously hut absolutely ( to permit Alark or Aiarion t-> see Rae- j hnni. i “ I am going to operate tn-movrow morn- ' inc. and Air Chesterton must nut. on anv account be disturbed or excited." he said, firmly. “It would he contrary to I; is own express desire.* to admit anyone In see him. Aloreever, it would he dangerous.” Alark argued, expostulated, imj-lored. and even went so far ns to paniallv explain how matter? stood, but Fir Pereival was adamantine in his refusal. " I am deeply sorry, hut I cannot jeopardise the very life of my patient now. no I matter now important year husincsv. may he,” ho said. "Besides, as 1 have t del you. Air Chcsteilon partii ularly asked me last night, when ho put him's-df in unhands, not to admit anyone to .-ee him oil any pretext until after the operation." “I’m afraid. Fir Pereival. that you are jeopardising the life of your patient bv refusing to admit us or give Air Chesterte-.i a message." said Alark. .sharply, when he recognised that argument was’useless. "I think not. Air Sampson." responded the. great specialist, with a smile. "Keep your good news until to-morrow, .after the operation is over. It will doubtless do much to cheer Air Chesterton, and give him an impetus towards recovery. Good afternoon." For the. second night in .♦ncccesion Aiarion did not close her eyes, and rnerning dawned to find her ghastly, with feverishly bright eyes .and trembling hands. How the forenoon pasted she never knew, but it seemed to Iter that she waited an eternity before Alark Sampson put iu an appearance and spoke words of hope and encouragement. Then followed what seemed a long drive, and sho was onco more in tho waiting room at Wimpole fctieet, sitting rigid, her heart throbbing liainfully. her breath coming and going in abored ’ gasps.

The door opened, and Sir I‘crcival Tripp entered briskly, shook hands with Mark, and bowed low to her. Aiarion gripped the back of the chair, from which rhe hud vi.scti, fighting against n dreadful feeling of faintness which suddenly swept over her. "Vos. the operation ha? hern successful.” Bir Pcrrivtil’s voice came to her now as from a far distance. " But Air Chesterton's condition ir. still extremely critiial. tie ha? not rallied as I expected, ami Ills hold on life scorns of the .slightest, it only we could rouse him? Ves, certainly you can sec him. Picaw. 1 follow me."' Aiarion felt Mark's band on her arm, and her strength canto hack to her. "Be brave." whispered .Mark’? voice close to her ear. "Be brave. Let me go first to explain." he breathed a few minute? later, as Sir Pereival opened the door of the room in which Raeburn was lying, and went forward on tip-to-v Aiarion stood still beside the doctor, who whispered encouraging words which fell on deaf cars. She was waiting, listen- j ing. Then Alark reappeared, signalled to j iicr, and site went forward. Raeburn was : in a white bed in the centre of the room, j and his face was thin, drawn, and corpse- j like in its pallor, but hi.s eyes were open , and met her own as she hastened forward. A blue-clad nurse made a gesture enjoining silence, but Aiarion saw her not. She saw only the white face of the man * sho loved, and she slipped down on her i knees by the bedside and pressed her lips 1 to his.* Bho could not speak, and no j speech was needed: Raeburn’s eyes told; her nil that she wanted to know, all her i heart bad hungered for. j “ Dear love, it seems ton good to be | true,” whispered Raeburn, weakly, ami put up a shaky hand to touch her ban-. “I was waiting for death, and you have i brought me life —and love.” ” You must go now,” whispered Sir . Pereival. who had entered silently. : “ Wait in tho reception room.” i Aiarion rose obediently, touched Raeburn's brow with her hand, and went out. ; “He will live,” said Alnrk, quietly, i when he had led her back to the waiting ; room. _ i “ Y'our visit lias worked wonders, ’ said ; Sir Pereival, jubilantly, half an hour ; later. “It seems to have given him the j neessary impetus, and he will live. 1 | feared he was going to slij) through my ; fingers, to tell yon the truth, for be j seemed to be making no effort, hut nowI know hg. is safe. Mo has fallen into a ' calm sleep now. and if you care to call this evening, you can sec him again if he is awake.” “Thank you. sir," said Alark. and took Aiarion hack to (In; Savoy. “Fat and rest —all’s well," ho said, as he took his , leave. “1 will call for you again at six.” Sir Pereival was out when they re- ' turned to AVimpolo street in the evening, 1 but a nurse received them. “Mr Chesterton is awake, and exporting you,” she announced, “ Sir Pereival says lie has taken a turn lor the better, and i.s now quite out of danger. Y'ou may both go up together." Raeburn raised his head as they entered and smiled. ; “ I was afraid it was a dream," he said, in 1 1 is weak voice. " but now i know it is . true. Wc owe it all to you. .Mark, dear , old chap. Aiarion I am going to live—to - live for you. to make a fn-sii .-.tart, a ‘ better start. 1 have learned my lesson, learned that love is life, and 1 thank (Jo-1 ; for it. J know I'm not worthy of you “ Dear, T love you." said Alari--!’. clasping his hand and lu-mling over him. her face shining gloriously with love tenderness, ITmoticed. Mark Sampson s'ip|-ed away from the bedside, turning as he reached the door to glance hack. Their heads wor-' close together, and in- saw Raeburn smile. “I've idaycd the game." whispered Mark, and went out very s--rVy. |.-a\ ing ' them totrethcr. The End.

This article text was automatically generated and may include errors. View the full page to see article in its original form.
Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/ESD19141205.2.45

Bibliographic details

AN INNOCENT JUDAS., Evening Star, Issue 15668, 5 December 1914

Word Count
4,860

AN INNOCENT JUDAS. Evening Star, Issue 15668, 5 December 1914

Working