Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 17, 1900)
&he Only Way 4^ A Fascinating Romance C't) by Alan Adair.. CHAPTER VI. Another room In an obscure part of 7»ndoa; but this room was. though poor, scrupulously neat anil tidy. It was even adorned with a few flowers, and some colored prints hung upon the walls. A woman and a child were sitting together In the one large chair that the room possessed. The woman, slight, still young, and astonishingly beautiful; the child, one of those brown, curly-haired children, with blue eyes, who have sprung from parents of different nations. The woman s face we have Been before. Now the only alteration In It, and one it was that did not affect her beauty, was a great sadness, except when she spoke to the child, and then her whole face changed' •‘It is such a great city,” she was saying—"such a great city. I did not know it would Iks bo difficult to find any one. I thought that when once 1 got to England It would all be well, and now I have been in England more than a year, and I have not seen him And yet I am so longing to see him once again, and to show him our boy. Oh, how happy he will In?' How Happy we both shall be! These weary years will he as naught, and I shall forget everything once I feel his arms round liio again: There was a step on the stairs. Ver onica listened. She had grown more womanly In these last four years, and she looked more thoughtful. Sorrow, the great master, had taught her many things. Now she did not look unhappy, hut eager and anxious. She evidently recognized the footsteps on the stairs, and It did not bring her any pleasure. She was shrinking to gether in the chair with the child when Ihe door opened to her call ••Come In!" and Hutchinson entered. "Good afternoon," she said, but showed no pleasure at the sight of him. "How did you find tne out?” "How? It Is always easy to find any one when you have a mind to, and when you have any sense in your head!" lie scanned Veronica’s face as he spoke, and noticed that she flushed slightly. “I saw you go into a music shop, and I followed you home the other day, and 1 made a note of the road and the number, and here I am," •‘What do you want of me?” asked Veronica, rather hopelessly. “My dear girl"—Hutchinson spoke airily—“my dear girl, why could you not have confided in your father? It would have saved you a great deal if you had.” "You are not my father,” said Ver onica quietly, “you told me so your self.” “Why quarrel about an expression? I am the man who brought you up. Veronica, why did you not tell me that you had married Alan Mackenzie and that this Is his child?’* Veronica gave a great start. She knew why she had not mentioned Alan's name to him. She knew of the hatred that Hutchinson had for him, and even now she did not know what to say, "How do you know?" she asked at last. "Who told you?" "He told me himself,” said the man, watching the agitation that Veronica betrayed. “1 should not have known unless.” "When did he tell you?” she asked, her lips almost refusing to utter u sound. "About two months ago." Veronica sprang up. "He is herp, in London. Two months ago! Oh, take me to him! Let me see him at ouce! Why did you not tell me be fore?” "How could I?” the man said dry ly. "I tell you you should have had more confidence. 1 did not know you were his wife.” "How was he looking?" cried Ver onica. "Oh, my darling, my darling’ Did he speak of me two months ago? 1 think we shall die of happiness when we come together again!" "No doubt," said Hutchinson. "Does he know of the boy?" "No The boy wsh born five months after the shipwreck. 1 have told you 1 wu so ill after the wreck that 1 lost my reason for a time.” "I'ity," »a!d Hutchinson, reflective ly, "that when you told me so much you did not tell me all." Veronica dut not answer Something in the man's tone awakened her sus picious. "Are you sure," she asked, after a little silence, "that you do not want to hurt turn "Why should I*'* asked llutihln s.m "No, what 1 want to do is to make money out of him He will not be able to deny me any thing when I res'or* him his wife and child" • That sounded possible. Vernal-a smiled, and let hemelf lie happy in the though' that what she had »• longed for and worked for for years was sImmiI to noma to pass. 'My dot ling, my darling!" she Mur mured llui. tans-oi look-I at h**r < uriousiy "X >u seem fund of him M he said the gave a glan e of on'-mpi st the way he eaprt'sse-l himself til»e tg'it.M the child up lu her anus • My darting." she said Mniy llllb* Alan * -i u « U’l ■ to » ■ u f i't • at last"* Hut* hius--a so thinking lie Is-I a dim ult task before him lie lad e"u»> l Alas to get niaifisd and lei ||ttii k'ai ***mt week* of kspprheet before he began his work of destruc tion; now he had to make sure of Veronica. Hw would have Infinitely have preferred a woman who would have blustered, and have sworn that she would have her rights; but Ver onica was the sort of woman who would shrink away and be lost to the world rather than hurt the man she loved. He had shrewdness enough to see that the girl would say that it was the only way to act, and that she would sacrifice both the child and herself; therefore it was Imperatively necessary that she should know noth ing of Alan's marriage, of his love for another woman. That must come to her as a surprise. She must be led ta expert that Alan was longing for hor, and would he overjoyed to see her again; then would be his, Hutchin son's, opportunity. He knew men so well that he fancied they must be all alike. Alan would not give up Joyce —he felt sure of that; then he must be mnde to pny for his silence. He must feel thut he, Hutchinson, could hold the sword over his head, that he could let It fall at any moment. Ho had rubbed his hands at the publicity of the marriage. Alan Mackenzie would never give up his beautiful wife. Veronica would have to he paid off. Joyce would not be Alan's law ful wife. It was going to be a life of misery for the young man, and at l he end there would be Hutchinson's dagger for his heart, Ilut the whole thing needed careful handling, and Hutchinson felt that he was the man undoubtedly who could bundle It care fully. Even If at the end Veronica refused, as was possible, to corne for ward and make Alan unhappy, never theless he would have to pay for his silence. “He lives in n nice little house In the country," Hutchinson said at last. "I will give you the address. Vou had better go by train. Have you any money?” "Yes,” said Veronica. “I was paid for my lesions yesterday. I must write to her when I have seen Alan again. He may not wish me to go on giving lessons.” But all the time she spoke her face was transfigured. The feeling that soon her weary time of probation would be over was strong within her. She looked with pride at the beautiful boy, whom she still held In her arms. “Will not his father be proud of him?” she asked, longing for a little human sympathy. “He is handsome, is he not?” “Oh, yes, he's a good-looking child, although I am no Judge,” said the man. In his head he was revolving plans. “I would not go straight up to the house If I were you," he said. “The servants might not understand it. You wait for him at the lodge gates.” “Very well," said Veronica, docile as always. Hhe could not guess that Hutchinson's one fear was lest she should meet Joyce and so spoil his whole plan He had looked Info Joyce's face as she was walking with Alan one day, and he could see inno cence and purity written upon It. Joyce was not the woman to consent to the paying off of the first wife. And so It wan decided that Veronica should go down to Sumtuerhaye and await the coming of Alan. It was a lovely day in early July, when she went down, with that precious posses sion. her boy, hugged close to her heart. The sun was shining and the sky blue, the corn was waving in the fields; and it was under the shade of a leafy tree that Veronica awaited the coming of the man she loved. Hutch inson had discovered what train he usually came by. It was so important that Veronica should see him alone! And sat there quietly straining her her ears for the sound of his foot steps. it took her hack to her girlish days at La Paz, when she had often watched for him as she was doing now. Truly there had been no years of separation from him, and no boy beside her. As the time drew neater the strain grew almost too Intense. She put her hand over her heart so ns to stop its wild beating, an ! the rich color that generally flooded her cheeks | left h-r, and *h« was pale. And sud I denly she heard footsteps In th<* field that was before he. manly footsteps, which she had not heuid for four ; years, but with h she knew at once 1 hen a Agure v tulted over the stil > and Alan stood before her She (uttered to her feet holding out the child lie looked at her wildly and gave s gr*at cry. us If body and soul were being rent iiutdir, ' Ver onica' n Cod* o Coi'" lie fell ha kwards ig III. >t the stile, j covering hit fate with hts bauds, as If j to shut out the sight of a g:ei! horror. Btae stood trembling before him, push ing her child In front of her. as if »h« wanted to oUhii ftte hers- If and to oh tfutte the child, but he Stool there shaking and shivering moaning si : Intervals. "\ Tunica! utioj't) (Sod It *u she »||u ipokr li st h* could Awl And words, or anything but th * I piteous lout n, nnd her VObe Wa* touching in Sl>|i|bilr Joy 'din. tlsH It Is I saved from the sea. my deafsst And here here Is out 4 Uitd Are you ho, ylvtmi* T*ll toe you are phased 1 for I have longed to to see your dor far# again* I le vs b.na'd m to htt your Vi.t. • I < aun.it be tut* a it t.,. i toms at lot' Hh> tnm« gaits near la bint gd vanning as site spoke. It spemed as If she were longing for him to un cover his face, to take her into his arms. “Alan,” she cried, "oh. my darling, are you not glad to see me?’’ There was still no doubt In her mind. She thought that the Joy of seeing her had been too great, and that, he was trying to recover from the shock. She had no doubt, poor soul, at all. He loved her, therefore her coming to him must be inexpres sible Joy. Then Alnn uncovered his haggard face. “Glad? No! It has ruined my life!” he cried brutally. But for the moment he could think of nothing but Joyce—his Joyce, with whom life had begun so Joyfully, and whose heart he must now break, as Ills own hud been broken. “I wish I were dead!” ho said, with a sob. "Alan!” The anguish In her voice matched his. “Is that what you have to say to me, your wife, the mother f your child, who has undergone hardships, and who has Just lived on because you were in the world? Oh, Alan, if you do not want mo, i had better go.” dhe turned, walking unsteadily, holding her child's hand tightly. And then a great temptation assailed Alan Mackenzie. The temptation to let her go, to let her be lost to him, to say nothing to Joyce; but to go on as If the dny's work had never been. And then he saw In a flash what bis life would be. How every moment of happiness with Joyce would hive its corresponding moment of bitterness when he was alone, how he must live a double life, always on the brink of detection. Not worse, perhaps, that the life parted from Joyce; but then he would be an hones! man, and not a traitor. He put his temptation away from him, thanking God that he could do so, knowing that Joyce would not love a man who was dishonorable. So before Veronica had staggeerd a dozen steps away he called to her hoarsely to come back. She turned at once, obedient as always, and for a mo ment he bated himself for his brutal ity to so gentle a woman. Her tears were falling down the beautiful face. She looked up ut him with the old look of faithful love, still pushing the child towards him. “Yes,” she said, questioning him, “what Is it, Alan?” “I am married," he said, crudely and hoarsely, thinking It best to tell her at once. “I thought you were dead. I heard nothing from you since I left you; It is four years ago. They told me all on board were drowned, and I could hear nothing of you. What wonder then I thought you were dead? And so I married, Ver onica—I am married now!" And then for a long time there wag silence between them. (To he continued.) BAPTISMAL VAGARIES. •Vim.* from South Africa Are f.lv.n to l'n fortunate faunfitnn. One of the resuts of the war in South Africa is an outbreak of curious names. Luckless infants born at or about the time of great events are be ing christened after the events them selves, as well as after the more promi nent individuals concerned. Hedvers Buller Thompson was used a few days ago, and Dundee, Glencoe and Elauds laagte have all been given. At the Cape, among the many curiosities are Talana Elanda Smith, Belmontlna Grasspana Modderivvo Brown and Penn Symons White Robinson. A Boer named Troskie, residing in the Craddock district in Cape Colony, had his son baptized Immanuel Kruger Steyn Triomphua. The mania appears to have taken South Wales in a very acute form. A fpw ihv4 atm VIodHnp River Jones, John Redvers Bailor Thomas, Harry White Redvers Joseph, Harold Baden Mafeklng Powe?I, and Gzekiel Methuen Macdonald Baden Powell Williams were the names given to helpless infants hy patriotic parents in Neath. At Pontypridd there are poor babes (ailed Richard Coleruo Scott, Oliver Colenso Williams, Kim berley Clifford, Charles Redvers James, ami Baden-Powell Williams; and at Mountain Ash, Victor Colon o Warren, Warren Sandford. Macdonald Claremont, Methuen Phillips, John Stanley Methuen Williams, and Baden Powell Price. Mr. Shandy, father of the famous Trlctram, it will be remem bered, I relieved there was something fateful In a name. The world seems to have been blessed with a sutfii b>nt number of Individuals of opinions similar to this, else bow can one ac count for such names as Peter the Oreat Wright and Will.am the Cm qurror Wright (twins!, King David Haydon. John Itun) an Parsonage, King George Westgate, Martin I.tithe,• I'prigiit, Os-neral George Washington Jones, I.oid Nelson Putman. Kntpres* KuK' tiie Aldridge, and John Robinson Crusoe Heaton? The parents, n i doubt, hail a pious lutin' that the child ren mi named would grow to b* worthy of the grt-iit penout whose naniei bad been appKtpriatsd. Tile hope hu llOt tn*-u realised, for none of ItiMii III ' divtduil* *re« ever to have set the Thames tui Are Ami perhaps It it i rather well for huinintty that there are no second editions of these "kings of men Hit even quiet Until havs their Ictus; hahte illsttirS. l.iulpFt y.le tlio udia Nestor Ka M>rt l.y-mei I m in, ig Hog Kchsnwpa Hu m Ki* ; Ctmiiwell I»i«at N'will |»<»art PI vu* t tagenei |a still tivina la A sl-s i#o haps be «U>* he Itevef altrtUI>'« to l« is ill ht< i»* a ksnir ls»i<tou l.«s , Mari' it lusnli t» one of |l pt-b. ps| s w ‘ »ts a i' s , - i uis .a K mss# !■ | • rap will pt.ihlr fes> 0 $ > • tc I • .aheis tad it hs» a pjpoiatt it <l u.y ! U.utw The riots in New Orleans recall sev eral famous outbreaks of past years, which threw the crescent city of tho south into a state of turmoil anil dis order. In each instance the racial problem has been the direct or indi rect cause of the trouble, and In the days following closely on the civil war the political conditions were such that outbreaks were frequent. It hus not always been the negro problem which has precipitated these upheavals, as was witnessed in the riots of 181)0, the wrath of the people at that time be ing directed toward the Italian element of the city, the charge being made ut that time that the Mafia society had caused the murder of the chief of po lice of the city. The first riot of any Importance In New Orleans was soon after the close of the war. It hail Its inception in the political troubles which then were rampant throughout the state, but the real hostilities were brought about when the colore.I population of the city sought to take an active part In the deliberations of the two political par ties then struggling for supremacy. It had been suggested by the federal authorities that the constitution of the state he revised in certain particulars so as to conform with the new order of things following the war. The sen timent became so strong in 186*; that the governor left the state for a short time after announcing that he would not call a special convention to take up the matter of revision. On July 20 K. 11. Howell, a Judge of the supreme court, was selected to call a convention, which was to he held in the Mechanics’ Institute In Drydes street. Shortly after 11 o'clock on the morning of the date mentioned, a large number of negroes, bead ad by the American flag, marched toward the meeting place anfld the hooting and yelling of the whites, who had assem bled on the sidewalks. When the procession had reached j Canal street, near Burgundy, a car- j man pushed one of the negroes from 1 the sidewalk and In another Instant a I shot was fired. It was found Impos sible to transact any business In the convention and an adjournment waa taken. In the meantime the whites had armed themselves and soon after 12'o’clock a pitched battle was fought in the streets surrounding the Insti tute. TJ»e result w'as that fifty negroei and two white men were killed and fully 200 of both races wounded. The ! I'nited States army officers Interfered and peace was restored after siveril days of excitement. During the interim between 1866 and 1873 there were numerous disturb ances of a minor character Ir New Or leans, but It was not until March ol the latter year that matters again took on a serious aspect. It was then that the so-called Pinch beck legislature passed certain law.i which were distasteful to certain of the white element In politics. Pinch beck, the lieutenant governor, was col ored, and for this reagon the feeling became all the more intense. The state was governed practically by two gov ernors—Kellogg and McKnery—anil after many weeks of skiimlshing the political bomb hurst in the streets of New Orleans, and several days’ rioting followed. Several negroes and whites were killed and the hospitals were till ed with the wounded. In March, 1891,New Orleans again at tracted the attention of the world by indulging in a riot, which led to the severing of friendly tics between the United States and Italy and came near resulting In a war between the two nations. The lynching of eleven He rmans by a mob was the direct cause of the departure of the Italian minis ter from Washington. On Oct. 15, 1890, David C. Hennesay, chief of the New Orleans police force, was shot near his own door at night, and died without being able to say anything more than the "dagos" had shot him. .Many murders and assaults had been committed In the city by Ital ians, and In the majority of Instances the perpetrators escaped punishment. Chief Mennessy had been Instrumental In the extradition of Ksposlto, a fugi tive Italian bandit, and had proved a terror to (he lawless element among the Italians. The murder of the chief caused In tense excitement among the working people, and was Intensified when It TARANTULAS GROWING SCARCE Aiicooa M»n H»i N.vrr Gotten 0».t Horror of Them. “I've seen the famous ‘Gila mon ster’ often." said an Arizona man in the New Orleans Tinies-Dein oc ra t. It is simply an uncouth, horrible looking lizard, and I’d rather encounter a hun dred of them than a single tarantula. I’ll never forget the first time I ever saw one of those giant spiders. I was living near Phoenix then, and had gone out to have a look at a mineral deposit recently discovered on my land. The place was some distance away, and I was walking across a stretch of level, sandy country, when I noticed a queer round object, about the size of a man’s clinched fist, lying near a little pile of rocks. It looked for all the world like one of those snarls of hair that women take out of their combs, but when I drew nearer I saw that It was alive, ami recognized It from descriptions as a desert tarantula. Its legs were all drawn under Its body at the time, and It seemed Indescribably lumpy and sluggish, hut as I stooped down to get a closer view It made a chidden, quick <WVWV^SWS/V\A/N/\/NAA/SArf S/SA/VA/NA/%^ V I 8C1SM1S OP THK NI2GK0 KIOTrf. became noised about that the Mafia society bad conspired to kill the officer. Six nu n were charged with the murder of Henne&sy and three others were held as accessories. After a lengthy trial the men were acquitted by order of the court. The verdict proved unsatisfactory to the people of the city, and charges were made that the powerful Mafia society had used money to bribe the witnesses and court officials. Before the Sicilian.! had been releas ed from the Jail a committee of fifty was organized and after a mob had been formed the frenzied men broke into the Jail on March 14 and captured eleven Sicilians who were there eon fined. They were marched to the pub lic square overlooking the old parish prison and while thousands of people lined the streets and housetops they were hang -d to trees and poles and aft erward riddled with bullets. An Informal H« »l« h. Governor Crane of Massachusetts does not place much confidence In for mal reviews of the state militia, and, therefore, he surprised the Massachu setts troops the other day by appear ing in their camp unannounced, and ordered an Impromptu review. movement and then Jumped square at my face. I dodged it by pure instinct, and the thing missed me and struck the gaud two or three feet away. It ran several yards with indescribable •swiftness, and then turned as if to • barge again, but I had had enough. I beat a retreat. Since then I have killed a number of tarantulas and caught them alive, but I have never outgrown the horror they inspire. The coarse brown hair that covers their bodies makes them seem much larger than they really are, and they have immensely muscular legs. Their pug nacity and strength are almost in credible. They will attack anything, regardless of size, and they make the most amazing leaps through the air. Of late years I am glad to say they have become very scarce, and every fron tiersman Is their natural enemy, and the war against them is fierce and re lentless. The bite of the creature is said to be fetal,and I have known them to kill horses, but I have no personal knowledge of any case of a human be ing who died from the effect of the poison. Their Ill-repute In that partic ular is probably exaggerated.” The annual death rate of Geneva, Switzerland, is only 14.7 u thousand. L St IN SIJ» \HK, I'AMnl S NKW OHIOAN* RANK. Un 'In - s*|iiar* Wi* (»r 4 mil I lh«* Slob Th«» Kill**! ih«t Mali »u |*r* ■*.»»In «h* TrnuM* In 1**1 * (hmese ind Japdnese Merctunts Compared. j ijMis fr<m k«r pvM*iNittf *n i kt« ,bl,. |4 ChlM «***» »« !>«»»• Ik* M III »so|M.iiai »**' Ifc* l* »*!«' I kim. ».<4l »•»«« !*<«»• »*l tat ivt*k Ulaia * ‘l*l ln*m • .11* 41>I «|*l lru4U 4 >l(«4k ut 1 **i> »m4 uMniuutiit» »m h ih*ir tr*4H utH wait m IN* ».i i»*tt >)•» in m i Aw**!' 4 tut IkU r*»tu# J t| 4tt 1* 4ul«| h. *% ' !<tir!li.g fill Uii|«nUtijc with Ktmii»*»i» i imiitrliM «ii l \iiktU * Ihrmigli (ur* 11411 hna««« in l.umn 111*' i'hl»*»* iu»rdiiRl, tin lh« Iith«r h till 1 • I iln-*“« ’ ’ir.1 III* 1 ill f *r liu 1 it h*>a»*ir II* ntAjr ih»-»i )*ii im tankini * barium l.ul <••>■* hi» 1 ••«•» *. 1 u n»a*l» hi* h «M» 14 |l *kfihii *’ m**ii ur »r«l ThU mn «»»•»* *1 ulrgill) in .1 itHiRinr »hir* tta> *i»* ri.mmi u m twrrtiiii u *lu* t» ih« l» l that la t'blha. nnlih** JiggR. nttnhi.il* hat* ilitii big |i.o |h« «»»l* «f Ik* tm t«l Utl l*r
