The Sunday Oregonian., April 21, 1907, Magazine Section, Page 10, Image 58

10
V
(Jeorg Eliot (Mary Ann Evsns Cross) iru A
writer who., chief strength lay in a wonderful
power of analyzing character. Her novels ara
laboratories where soul of the characters are
placed in the crucible of her strong, clear mind
and reduced to their atomic parts. No writer
ever excelled her In this1 power. It i dlffl
cul for anyone to read George Eliot's works
and not feel at times a little twinge as if
some hidden weakness or sin of bis own had
been touched. Instants come when the reader
feels aa if the author were writing with a
probe so clearly could she see into the souls
of men and women.
However simple the story which George Kliot
tells, however commonplace the plot, it appeals
at once' to the intellect : and it is among the
Intellectual that she had and has her greatest
popularity. Her mind waa masculine and she
was masculine in appearance, her face bear
ing a wonderful resemblance to that of
Savonarola, with whose character she dealt
In her novel of Romola.
Yet with ail her clear insight Into charac
ter and all her masculinity, the Lewes epi
sode In her life, though she tried to cloak it
with a conjured-up philosophy, proved that
she was still a woman and a woman who
vould err. Adam Bede. as well known as any
of her works, was her first real novel, and
affords an excellent example of her work
manship. THAT well-preserved, middle-aged
bachelor, the Rev. Adolphus Irwtn,
rector of Broxton, vicar of Hayslope
and vicar of Blythe, sat at breakfast when
Joshua Kinn. clerk of the parish at Hay
slope, was ushered in. After preparing the
rector for the blow, Joshua announced In
a voice of horror, "That Methodls' young
woman as Is a-stayln' at Martin Foyser'B.
Dinah Morris by name, was a-preachin'
and a-prsyin' on the Green last night, as
sure as I"m a-standln' afore your rever
ence. The rector soothed Joshua's fears as to
the dangers to church and state likely to
flow from the action of the young woman
In question, and was about dismissing him
to the kitchen for a mug of beer when
there came a knock at the door, and a
pleasant voice said: "Godson Arthur may
he come in?'
The new arrival was Captain Arthur
Donnithorne, "the young squire," the peo
ple called him. He was a clear-complex-loned
young follow well-washed, high
bred, white-handed, and yet looking as If
Jie could deliver well from the shoulder and
floor his man. No wonder he was as pop
ular as his miserly old grandfather, "the
old squire," whose heir he was, was un
popular. "Humbly heggin' your pardon," said
Joshua, still lingering. "There's one thing
as I forgot to say. Thins Bed, of Hay
slope, was found drowned In the Willow
Brook this morning, and his widow sent
me to say she wanted him burled under
the white thorn In Hayslope churchyard.
If your reverence would be so kind."
"Poor Tlitss." said Mr. Irwin to Arthur,
as Joshua disappeared kltchenward. "I am
afraid drink helped the brook to drown
him. I should have been glad if the bur
den could have been taken oft of my
friend Adam's shoulders in a less painful
way."
"He's a regular trump, is Adam," re
sponded Arthur. "I used to think when I
was a little fellow and Adam a strapping
bt.y of 15 that if I were a rich Sultan I
would make him my Grand Vizier."
A little later the two men had mounted
their horses and were riding away to the
cottage of the Bedes. where the widowed
Usbeth was sitting in her querulous grief,
and her two sons, the grave and stalwart
Adam and the milder and less capable
Sth. were comforting her. But on the
way Arthur must needs stop at the Hall
iHarm. occupied by Martin Peyser.
With Farmer Poyser waa stopping his
wife's niece, Dinah Morris, -and with him
lived permanently his own niece, the or
phaned Hester Sorrel. Toung Donnithorne
stopped at the farm to see Poyser about
some business, but somehow he found his
way into the dairy, where Hetty was at
work.
And so. while Mr. Irwia talked with
Mr. Poyser. the farmer himself being
from home (sly Arthur! he knew Martin
was not at home when he stopped), the
heir of Donnithorne pleased himself with
the sight of the beautiful dairy maid and
the sound of her melodious voice.
Hetty was quite used to having people
look at her and. indeed, she was well
worth looking at. Her cheeks were like
rose petals, and dimples played around
her pouting Hps:" her dark hair, though
pushed back, returned in little ringlets
across her brow and hung lovingly around
ber white, shell-like ears, while her dark
yes hid a soft roguishness.
Hetty had admirers a-plenty. There was
Adam Bede. whom her uncle wanted her
to marry. He waa foreman for Ft urge, the
carpenter and builder, and might soon be
taken into partnership. But he waa a poor
man after all, and It would be years be
fore he could give Hetty the luxuries for
which she sighed.
The truth was that Hetty had a vain
little heart and a hard little heart, as well
as a narrow Intellect. But how was one
to know this when all outward appear
ances Indicated so exactly the reverse?
So Adam worshiped her and Arthur dal
lied with her. Dinah was aa unworldly as
Hetty was worldly: she was beautiful, "too,
in her spiritual way. When Mr. Irwin had
told her of the death ef Thtas Bede she
had said: "Llsbeth is in trouble, belike I
may comfort her." and had gone to the
tede cottage forthwith.
I.isbeth. who had been deaf to the con
eolations of others, was comforted bv
Dtnah. The pale Methodist had a way
wlth her that was dear to the afflicted
and her presence In the cottage was like
gentle musio to Beth, who bad loved Dinah
long and loved her still, though she had
told him that she "was called of the Spirit
to higher things than matrimony."
Before Arthur followed Dinah to the
Bede cottage in the company of Mr. Ir
win, he found a chance to ask Hetty If
she ever walked in the Chase. Hetty re
piled that she passed through a portion of
it dally and mentioned the hour she might
be passing by the big beech tree.
So poor Thlas Bede was burled under
the white thorn: the cottage settled down
to lta former lire; Dinah went back to
Snowfleld. in the next shire, where she
worked In a mill : Adam sat long at night
with Martin Poyser talking of carpenter
ing and crops: and Hetty walked In the
Chase and met Arthur lonn!thorne.
But after a while Arthurs conscience
began to trouble him. He applied hli
A
A
i t ' 1 :
:
jtf
usual remedy in such cases made a set
of brand-new good resolutions and
thought that would sufTlce. But his fa
vorite remedy not working as well as
usual, he bethought him that he would
rids over to Broxton, tell Mr. Irwin just
how matters, stood and ask 'his advice.
Of course, this sort of thing must not go
on any longer; that was clear. He saw
with alarm that Hetty was gifting alto
gether too fond of him and he of her. He
meant no harm, of course, but it was well
to be careful.
As Arthur rode through the fresh morn
ing air on his way to the rectory his
thoughts were busy with a future in
which poor Hetty had no place. It would
not be many years now. in the natural
order of things, when his grandfather
would sleep with his ancestors and Ar
thur would reign in his etead. So the
young man dreamed bis dream. He
would settle down on the estate, of
course, and, some time, take a wife from
one of the county families. He would be
a model landlord beloved of all his ten
antry. He fancied himself riding out in
state with caps being doffed to him and
his wife on every side not taken off sul
lenly, as they were to his grandfather,
but eagerly, to show respect to the good
squire.
Almost before he knew it his horse
stood at the gate of the rectory, and
Hetty came back to his memory with a
Jarring and discordant feeling. When Ar
thur Anally sat before the rector, the
confession he had come to make suddenly
became difficult. Why should he teil
Irwin, after all? Wras he not man enough
to break away from such a small en
tanglement as this by his own power?
So. Instead of talking of Hester Sorrell
Arthur talked of the preparations which
were making for the entertainment to the
tenants to celebrate his coming of age a
week hence for Arthur was still hardly
more than a big boy and he also told the
Tector that his grandfather had consent
ed to have Adam Bede made overseer of
the wood on the estate, a position which
would not interfere with his carpenter
work with Burge.
Then Arthur rode home very sure of
himself and glowing at the thought of
Adam'a pleasure when he should be in
formed of his good fortune.
It was some weeks after the birthday
festivities that Hetty, one night, having
locked the door of her room, took from a
drawer a little leather case and opened it
to gaze lovingly on a pair of garnet and
pearl ear-rings.-
"LJttle ears." Arthur had said, and
when she exclaimed, with, what seemed
to him ehildish candor, "Oh, I wish I
had a pair of pretty ear-rings to wear in
them!" he had remembered.
There came a knock, and hastily put
ting away her treasures--her principal
thought concerning them, aside from how
well they 'became her, had been their
probable cost Hetty opened the door to
find Dinah Morris standing there. Dinah
again had been visiting the Poysers, but
was going away the next morning.
Dinah, in her white nlghtrobe, her face
full of subdued emotion, looked almost
like a lovely corpse Into which the soul
had returned charged with aubllmer se
crets and a sublimer love.
"I knew you were not in bed. dear."
she said in her sweet, clear voice, which
was Irritating to Hetty, "for I heard you
moving about. Dear Hetty. It has been
borne in upon me that you may some day
be in trouble. If you ever are. will you
remember that you have a friend In Dinah
Morris, and if you come to her or send to
her, she will never forget the words of
this night? Will you remember, Hetty?"
The solemn tone of-Din&h and the word
trouble" caused Hetty's faca to blanch.
"Why do you talk to me in that way?"
said she. "What do you want to frighten
me for? Why can't you let me be?" And
Dinah went back to" her own room to pray
for the vain girl whose future troubled
her soul.
One day, when Adam was talking to
THE SUNDAY OREGOXIAJf, PORTLAND.
Hetty in the Poysers' garden, he offered
to take one of the children which the girl
was holding. As he took the child it
snatched at a light chain around Hetty's
neck i and a gold locket flew from her
bodfee to the ground.
Adam picked it up and saw that It waa
a costly locket and in the back of it two
locks of hair intertwined a lock of black
and one of a light color. Adam felt a
puzzled alarm: lie waa sure none of her
relatives would have given Hetty such an
expensive locket. But the girl took the
trinket with apparent indifference and
looked so Innocent and childish that as
usual the big carpenter, who saw most
things clearly enough, could not see the
soul of Hetty Sorrell, and dismissed his
doubts.
Adam had been in charge of the Donni
thorne wood for some time, and had also
gradually come to manage nearly all the
business of Mr. Burge, when one day he
went to the Chase farm to superintend
some repairs.
He was returning from the Chase when,
just as he came to a large beech in a
glade near a little Summer house known
as the Hermitage, he saw before him a
man and woman holding each other's
hands and kissing each other on the lips.
Adam stopped as if frozen suddenly in
his tracks. The two were Arthur Don
nithorne and Hetty Sorrel!
Hetty hurried away, but Arthur walked
toward Adam, with an uneasy laugh, say
ing: "Well, Adam, you haMie been look
ing at the line old beeches, eh? I over
took that pretty Hetty Sorrel as I was
coming to my den the Hermitage there.
She ought not to come home this way so
late. So I took care of her to the gate,
and asked a kiss for my pains. Good
night. Adam. See you tomorrow to say
goodby. for I am going to join my regi
ment, you know."
"Stop a bit. sir." replied Adam, in a
hard, peremptory voice; "I've got a word
to say to you."
Arthur was surprised and indignant, yet.
in spite of pride and temper, there was
as much deprecation as anger in his voice
as he retorted, "What do you mean, Ad
am?" "I mean," said Adam, sternly, "that this
Is not the first time you have met Hetty
Sorrel!"
Thei ncident of the locket and a hun
dred other trifles now came back to Ad
am. He saw or thought he did.
"You know as well as I do what this
sort of thing leads to when a young gen
tleman like you makes love to a girl like
Hetty. I mean that instead of being the
man I took you for you are a light-minded
scotir.drel, though it cuts me to the heart
to say so."
"You are not only devilish impertinent,
but yon are talking nonsense." began Ar
thur; but be soon trailed off into explana
tion and excuse, finally acknowledging
that, perhaps, he had gone a little too far
but no harm was done and he was
going away next morning for a long time
and Hetty would forget. He turned
to walk away, but Adam placed himself
before him.
"No. by God," he burst out, "I throw
your favors back in your face. Fight me
where I stand. It Is all the amends you
can make me."
"I never knew you loved her," said Ar
thur weakly, but with rising temper.
"Fight me, you coward and scoundrel!"
cried Adam.
Jn a moment Arthur's white hand went
out and smote Adam a blow which mads
him stagger. The delieate-handed gentle
man was a match for the workingrn&n in
everything but strength, and the struggle
was protracted for some time.
But between unarmed men the battle Is
to the strong, and finally a blow from Ad
am stretched Arthur on the ground, sense
less. Adam thought he had killed him, and
the horror which rushed over him com
pletely mastered his anger. But Arthur,
after a while, came around, and Adam,
as gently as a child, assisted him to the
Hermitage.
am
COPYRICHT ISOr BY IRVEKQ
all mmis reserved .
Adam stopped, AsjrrRozDJ
eiUQDELNLY IN HIS TRACkje? .
When Arthur was himself again, the
two sat there facing each other and talked
calmly.
"You see, sir," said Adam, "this isn't
a trifle to me. The love I feel for Hetty
is a sort of love as I believe nobody ever
felt unless God had given it to 'em. And
if It's true what you say, that you have
only been trifling and flirting, as you call
It, and It will be put an end to by your
going away, why, then I'l wait and hope
her heart will turn to me after all. If
you feel you'i-e put false notions into her
head, write Hetty a letter taking blame
to yourself, and tell her the truth. I'll
see that she gets it. There's nobody can
take care of Hetty in this thing but me.
Nobody else shall know of it. KItlier do
this or tell me you've been lying and she
can never be my wife."
Poor, weak Arthur! The easiest way
out of the difficulty was the right one
for him, always; so he promised. The
next day he sent a letter to Adam, in
closing one for Hetty. Then he made
some good resolutions again and rode
away to join bis regiment.
It was but a militia regiment, but a per
son in whom the people of Hayslope took
only a minor interest, and for whom they
had a hearty contempt, known to them
as "Boney,"-was toppling thrones and
empires down just then and even the
militia regiments were under arms in
England. The pretensions of this "Boney"
had been ridiculous enough before, but
now that Captain Donnithorne had joined
his regiment, they became too absurd to
talk about.
Adam gave Arthur's letter to Hetty and
spoke sternly to her concerning what he
had seen in the Chase. The girl put the
letter in her pocket, little suspecting its
tenor, and seemed only concerned that
Adam should "net tell" which he prom
ised. That night, in the privacy of her room,
Hetty read the letter and all her air
castles, tumbled in a hideous ruin around
her. Arthur wrote that they must try and
not feel like lovers any more; that the
difference !n their stations precluded all
Idea of marriage; they never eould be as
tliey would like to be to each other, but
that "if any trouble should come which
they did not then foresee," she could trust
him to do all that lay in his power for
her.
The poor girl read and reread the let
ter. It was hard for her to grasp all at
once the fact that Arthur had cast her
off. She had been so sure that he would
"make a lady of her." Now she saw only
the dull, hateful routine of her life on
the farm, or as the wife of some working
man. stretching out before her as long
as she should live.
She sat sobbing and shivering far into
the night and then threw herself on y3
bed and slept from sheer exhaustion. Her
first idea upon awakening the next
morning was that she must go away
from there. She must go somewhere
anywhere, life henceforth in that dull
routine was not to be borne. She would
welcome any change now even a mar
riage with Adam would afford some re
lief. So: when Adam came again to sit with
Martin Poyser, Hetty greeted him with a
gentle smile which set the big man's
heart beating violently. Arthur was right
after all; it had been but a bit of "flirt
ing" and had ended with Arthur's depar
ture. It was be. Adam whom Hetty
loved; be saw it in a thousand looks and
signs just as Samson saw the love of
Delilah when he looked into her eyes and
as Hercules felt Omphale's at a pressure
of her little hand. 1
Thus in a few weeks it came about that
Adam and Hetty were engaged and the
big carpenter was happier than lie had
ever dared to hope he would be. As the
time of the wedding came near there was
only one cloud in Adam's sunshine. Hetty
seemed sad at times. She went about her
household duties in a subdued manner,
doing hef work patiently and thoroughly,
but sadly. "She is trjing to ibow thee
f
APRIL 21, 1907.
ft
what a good housewife she'll make," said
Martin Poyser jocularly, to the lover.
One day Hetty went over to Treddles
ton to get some of the wedding things
she had forgotten to buy. "It was easy to
know they were not for the outside.'
Mrs. Poyser remarked, "or she would
have- remembered them fast enough." It
was a bright February morning and the
frost was on the hedgerows.
Hetty turned off from the highway
across the fields; she wanted to be where
she could walk slowly and not care how
her face looked as she dwelt on wretched
thoughts. On the low ground was a dark,
shrouded pool full with the WMnter rains.
She sat down on the bank and gaxed fix
edly into the black waters. She - had
thought of this pool often In the nights
of the month which had just passed and
now she was trying to guess what sort of
a bed it wpuld make for her young, round
limbs.
No! She had not courage to jump into
the cold, watery bed: they might find
her then they would know why she had
drowned herself. No. she must go away
go away where they could not find her.
After the first oncoming of her great
dread, some weeks after her betrothal td
Adam, she had a vague, blind hope that
something would happen to set her free
from her terror; but she could wait no
longer.
She thought of writing to Arthur, but
rejected the idea. He could do nothing
that would shelter her from the discov
ery and the scorn of those who made her
little world, now that her fairy dreams
had vanished.
No. something else would happen
something must happen. In young. Ig
norant, childish souls there is constantly
this blind trust in some unshapen chance.
Tt is as hard for a boy or girl to believe
that a great wretchedness Vill befall
them as it is for them to believe that
they will die. But now her marriage was
so near she could no longer rest in that
blind trust. Long Hetty sat ' there re
volving one plan after another, and re
jecting them all, until finally her thoughts
took this one form: Arthur was at Wind
sor. He had written the address for her
before he went away. She would go to
Arthur.
Mrs. Poyser was surprised that night
when Hetty announced that she would
like to go to Snowfleld for a few days
and bring Dinah back with her to stay
over the wedding. As Adam put Hetty
into the coach the next morning tears
rose to the girl's eyes tears for the
misery of her own hard lot.
"God bless her for loving me so," said
Adam, thinking the tears were at part
ing from him.
At the next town Hetty left the coach
and set her face toward Windsor. From
town to town she went, inquiring her
way southward, sometimes getting a lift
in a carrier's cart, more often walking.
At first she had taken the regular
coaches, but soon found that her scanty
supply of money would not permit of that
mode of traveling.
Oh. what a long. long, weary way it
was! 8he had never imagined the world
was so big that distances were so great.
Now. for the first time, as she- lay down
In some hard, strange bed, she felt that
her life at home had been a happy one.
that her quiet lot among the people of
Hayslope. among the things and people she
knew, with her pride In her best gown
and Sunday bonnet and with nothing to
hide from any one, was what she would
like to wake up to as a reality, finding
all the feverish life that 'she had known
besides was a sort of nightmare.
Her own misery filled her heart: there
was no room for other people's sorrow.
At last. pele. worn and weary, she ar
rived at Windsor and sought an Inn. The
landlady looked at Hetty critically; ghe
saw what the girl had been trying to
hide.
"Here's a bad business." said the wo
man to her husband when she noticed
that Hetty's finger bore no wadding ring.
1L
.M
1
"Can you tell me how I can find this
house?" asked the weary girl, handing
the landlord the slip of paper on which
Arthur had written his name and address.
"Why," said the landlord, "that house
bas been closed thia two weeks. The
officers who lived there are gone off with
their regiment to Ireland."
When Hetty regained consciousness she
was lying in bed, too ill and weary to
think clearly of her condition. Later in
the day, by a great effort, she gathered
herself together, dressed and went down
to the landlady. Dinah Morris had come
into her mind. Oh. if she could only get
back to Dinah! CTie took the ear-rings
and the locket which Arthur had given
her and which she had brought With her,
pawned them with the landlord and start
ed northward again.
As she walked alonjt the country roads
she thought of Arthur and cursed him,
wildly and despairingly, and hoping that
her curses would bear fruit.
When a fortnight had passed and Hetty
had not returned there was some anx
iety at the. Hall Farm, and It was agreed
that Adam should go to Snowfleld and
fetch her. At Snowfleld Adam learned
that Dinah had been away from home
tnce before Hetty had left Hayslope and
that no such person as Hetty had teen
asking for her.
By diligent inquiry he learned that
Hetty had been seen on a coach going
south. He traced her for a short dis
tance and then lost all track of her.
"God have mercy on us, Addy, what
is it?" satd Seth when Adams again
appeared at the Bede cotyge and his
brother saw his haggard fmee.
"She's gone gone away from us."
replied Adam. "She cannot have loved
me. She didn't like our marriage
when It came nigh."
Though Adams was determined to
admit no other reason than this for
Hetty's disappearance, there was in his
heart the fear that she had gone to
Arthur. He must find out. But first
he would tell the people at the Hall
farm and then go and take counsel of
Mr. Irwin.
His love for Hetty suffered no abate
ment, but mingled with his great sor
row was a hatred of Arthur, strong
and fierce. As Adam told his tale to
Mr. Irwin that gentleman strove hard
to collect himself, and finally said:
"Adam, there Is a heavier sorrow com
ing upon you than you have yet
known. You can bear sorrow man
fi.iiv a well as act manfully. I have
t bad news of Hetty this morning. She
Is at Stonlton. She has been arrested.
She Is in prison."
"For what?"
"For the murder of her child," re
plied the rector.
'I'll go find him." exclaimed Adam,
springing to his feet "He shan't es
cape me this time. I'll follow him to
the ends of the earth."
"No, Adam," said the rector. "The
punishment will fall without your aid.
You will stay and see what can be
done for her." .
At first there was murder in Adam's
heart, but suddenly there rushed upon
him the memory of that day in the
chase when he thought he had killesl
Arthur. "God help me!" he cried,
burying; his face In his hands.
When Hetty's trial came on, the evi
dence was all against her. A laborer
going through a field near Stonlton
had discovered a newly born child
buried under some sods and chips and
quite dead. Near by, sitting against a
haystack, .was the young woman whom
he recognised in court. She had fled
when she saw that he had discovered
the dead child, but the Constables had
found her hidden., in . a neighboring
barn.
From the time of her arrest Hetty
had maintained a stubborn stlence.
Now in court she stood voiceless
white and cold as marble until the
sentence of death was pronounced
upon her, when she fell with a shriek
to the floor.
Adam had taken rooms in Stonlton
while awaiting the trial, but Hetty
had refused to see him. Dinah Mor
ris had come to her, but had been
unable to move her out of her stony
apathy. But the night before the day
set for" the execution Dinah, watching
and praying in the cell with the miser
able girl, was rewarded at last. Hetty
burst into tears and confessed her
crime, but declared that she had never
really meant to murder the child she
had thought some one would find it
before it died.
Then her narrow little soul expand
ed, and in the shadow of death Hetty
was conscious of thoughts and feelings
before unknown to her. Fervently she
prayed with Dinah and hoped that she
might be forgiven. She could forgive
Arthur now, and for Adam she felt
a great sorrow that she should have
so meanly rewarded his great love.
She sent for Adam to come to see
her the next morning, and said, very
gently: "Adam, I am very sorry. I
have behaved very badiy toward you.
Will you forgive me before I die?"
"I forgave thee long ago, Hetty,"
said Adam, with a sob.
"Will you kiss me again, Adam, for
all I have been so wicked?" Adam
took the blanched, wasted hand she
held out to him, and they gave each
other the aolemn, unspeakable -kiss of
a lifelong parting
It was a gray, clear morning when
the waiting, watching multitude de
scried the fatal cart making its way
toward the scaffold. Bs' Hetty's side
stood Dinah Morris. Dinah was scarce
ly conscious of the crowd, but Hetty,
when she caught sight of the multi
tude, clutched her companion convul
sively. "Close your eyes, Hetty," said Dinah;
"and let us pray unceasingly to God.'
She had promised that she would be with
her erring sister np to the last.
The cart, making its way slowly
through the press of people who stood
gazing at the spectacle in silence, had
nearly reached the foot of the gallows
when a great cry arose. To the startled
Dinah it seemed the yell of demons.
Hetty's shriek mingled with the sound,
and they clasped each other in mutuai
horror.
But it was not a shout of execration
not a yell of exultant cruelty. It was a
shout of sudden excitement at the ap
v
pearance of a horseman cleaving the
crowd at full gallop.
He has something In his hand he 1
holding it up as if it were a signal. The
sheriff knows him: it is Arthur Donni
thorne. carrying In his band Hetty"
hard-earned release from death.
Shortly before Hetty's trial. Arthur, re
turning from Ireland, had been met. at
Liverpool by the news of the sudden
death of his grandfather and had hasten
ed to Donnithorne Abbey. Mr. Irwin,
knowing of his expected arrival, bad. up
on going to Stonlton. left a letter for the
young man telling him all. Arthur, who
had ridden home filled with rosy dreams
of his future life as a country gentleman.
thus was suddenly confronted with the
news of the ruin he had wrought.
Within the hour he had ridden away
from the Abbey again, resolved to make
the only amends now permitted him.
Bringing every influence to bear of which
he was capable, he had succeeded in hav
ing Hetty's sentence commuted to trans
portation! for life and, by the exertion
of almost superhuman effort, was able
to deliver the commutation to the sheriff
at the very foot of the gallows.
The Bedcs and the Poysers resolved to
leave Hayslope forever and seek a living
in some distant place where their shame
and their sorrows would not be known.
No longer could they live as tenants of
the man who had done them all so much
wrong. But Adam took a farewell walk in
the Chase . and something drew him
toward the spot where first he had seen
Hetty and Arthur together under the
great beech.
Standing there he came upon Arthur,
pale, worn and ' sad. Adam saw he was
suffering and felt no impulse that he
needed to resist. The two men gazed at
each other sadly as lost spirits might
gaze at each other on the shores of
Styx.
Arthur was the first to speak. He
poured out his heart in words of remorse,
begging Adam that he would not go away
from the place that he would induce the
Poysers n&T to go. He had done enough
harm already to both of them he did not
wish to be the cause of their leaving the
homes to which they were attached. As
for himself, ho was going away for
years perhaps forever. He was going to
Spain with the army, and might expi
ate his crime by a soldier's death.
At last Adam consented to remain on
the estate, and the next morning Arthur
Donnithorne left the home of his ances
tors, which he was not to see again until
he returned to It, broken in health and
worn with wars, many years later.
Dinah was much at Hayslope now, eith
er with the Bedes or with the Poysers.
She found plenty of the sort of work for
which she craved, during the next year,
in helping them to take up the frayed
ends of their lives again.
Gradually, almost Imperceptibly, she
and Adam grew together. Dinah was the
first to discover how dear they were to
each other and annuonced that she must
go back to Snowfleld. When Adam, start
led by this into a sense of his true feel
ings toward her, avowed his love, she re
plied that the Lord had called her to oth
er things than marriage and so depart
ed. But after a while Adam also had what
Dinah used to call " a direction of the
spirit." and he went to Snowfield after
her. He camo upon her suddenly and took
her In his arms.
"Oh. Adam!" she said. "Tt Is the Di
vine will. My soul Is so knit with yours
that It is but a divided life I live without
you." "Then we will never part any more
until death parts us." replied Adam.
Their lives henceforth were happy and
beneficent, and even the news of Hetty's
death in that far-off land to which "he
had been exiled came to them only as a
sorrow lessened by the lapse of years.
Next Sunday's one-page classic will be
"Jane Eyre." by Charlotte Bronte.
ANOTHER CANCER CURE
Remarkable Success From Using
Germ of Erysipelas.
New Tork Dispatch.
Remarkable effects upon a malignant
cancer In a woman have been achieved
at the General Memorial Hospital in this
city by hypodermic injections of the
mixed toxin of erysipelas and bacillus
prodigiosus. The patient, the wife of a
Lieutenant in the United States Army,
was hurried to New York from the Phil
ippines that she might see her parents
before she died.
Dr. William B. Coley gave her ' in
jections of the mixed toxins In combina
tion with the X-ray, after which the
cancerous growth was removed surgically
and the patient apparently entirely re
covered. vKxaminatton of the growth
showed it had degenerated very much
under the toxin treatment, and it is said
if the woman had been stronger the en
tire growth might have been absorbed
without recourse to surgery. The use of
the mixed toxins is the result of a curi
ous discovery In regard to the bacillus
prodigiosus, which is a germ shaped like
a rod.
It has been known to grow and multi
ply rapidly on communion bread, thereby
giving rise to the so-called miraculous
"bleeding host." It is found in tumors.
In erysipelas, on the other hand, there
Is a characteristic spherical germ which
grows In chains.
It was noticed that when a man with
a cancerous tumor got erysipelas the
tumor sometimes disappeared. It was
believed the erysipelas cured the tumor.
Consequently scientists began to innocu
late tumor patients with erysipelas. Now
science goes a step further and innocu
lates the toxin of the tumor germ with
the toxin or poison principle of the ery
sipelas germ.
The Fan's'' Paradise.
T.. R. "W. In Ts'ew Tork Sun.
The Baseball Flen4 lay on his bed.
His life was nearly ended.
While to Ms knees, with btnded head.
The minister descended.
Sow." quoth the Vlend. "uh not for ml
A seat 'mid sainted creatures;
Above, as here, content I'll be
To sit among tha bleachers'