  Not a word passed between the two for some moments. The man glanced up and down the street uneasily, then resumed his hat and said: "I am glad you recognize me, Rose. I have been wanting to see you for a long time." "You have risked your life in coming," she said. "Surely you know that a large reward rests against you." "I do, but I am willing to risk life to see the one I love—" "Hush! Mr. Bordine," cried the girl, huskily. "I wish to hear no more of that." "No? Then you believe the stories that are handed about that I am a murderer?" There was a bitter tone to his voice that did not fail to have its effect. "Don't ask me, August," she returned sadly. "I have no right to think on that subject, it is a question that rests between you and your God." "But do you believe me guilty?" "Are you guilty? Tell me truly," she cried, suddenly, looking up into his haggard face in a way that thrilled him to the quick. "Will you believe me if I swear—" "No, no, do not mar your word with an oath, August," she interrupted, quickly. "I will believe you without that." "May Heaven bless you, Rose," he cried, in a relieved tone. "I am as innocent as you are of that murder." "Then go. Do not be found here another minute. The evidence will convict you, and I do not wish to see you die." She pushed him from her with a trembling hand. "One kiss, darling." She would have been less than human and a woman, had she refused, with her heart all seething with conflicting emotion on account of the love she bore this man, that would not down even when she knew him guilty of deception and fraud—perhaps of murder. He bent and imprinted a kiss upon her cold cheek, held her hand a moment in a hot clasp, then turned to go. A step sounded near. Someone was approaching. "Go! while it is yet time," urged the maiden in a thrilling whisper. But he seemed unable to move just then. "My mother; how does she bear up?" "Bravely." "She is used well?" "Very well, indeed." "I am glad for her sake. Tell her nothing of this visit, it will do no good, and I wish her to remain in ignorance of my whereabouts." The sound of a step died away, and the spot occupied by man and maid seemed safe from observation for the present. "It shall be as you wish." "Bless you, Rose. Tell me again that you believe me guiltless." "I have once said so, August, but go now, and never set foot in this dangerous neighborhood again." "Will you permit me to speak of that scene in the garden where you so misjudged me?" "No," with an impatient gesture. "I wish to destroy that picture. Don't force me to think of it." "But I can explain." Again came the sound of approaching steps. This time two men were seen approaching from either direction. "Go before you are discovered!" cried out the girl huskily. He dropped her hand and started to move away, evidently realizing his danger. Rose crept swiftly into the building and watched the moving form of her lover through the window. "Halt!" She heard the cry, and saw a police baton uplifted over the head of the man who had just left her side. White as death the girl gazed. Would there be trouble? She saw a hand laid on the one of her lover, then two men were engaged in a desperate struggle. Presently there came a bright flash and sharp report. Rose was petrified with horror as she gazed. The policeman sank in a heap to the walk, while a voice outside shouted: "Murder!" Then the man who had encountered the police officer darted swiftly from the vicinity. A timid man bent over the fallen officer. The Sheriff heard the startling cry from without and rushed into the front room, passing Rose, who crowded in the shadows, without noticing her. He gained the walk and soon stood over the fallen officer. "I heard a shot," cried the sheriff, in an excited tone. "Who did it? Is the man dead?" "I don't know answered the other," who seemed to be an ordinary pedestrian. "I saw a man talking with a woman there, at your door. He walked away and met the officer, then came a scuffle and a shot." "Exactly," muttered the sheriff, laying his hand on the man's arm. "You will consider yourself my prisoner." "But I haven't done a thing." "We'll see about that." At this moment the policeman moved and assumed a sitting posture. "No, the man's right," he said in a labored tone. "The fellow ran when he fired. I—I reckon he's done for me." "Who was it?" "The man we wanted—Bordine!" "Is it possible?" "It seems to me it would be wise to alarm the police and have them on the lookout for the villain," said the citizen. Just then a hack was passing which was hailed, and the wounded officer placed inside with the citizen, who promised to set the city force on the lookout. "You might question the girl, Mr. Sheriff," said the citizen. "Yes, but I may not be able to find her now." "She entered your house I am sure." Then the hack whirled away. The sheriff hastened into the house just as Rose, pale and agitated, rose from a crouching posture at the window. "Was the policeman killed?" This was her question, given in an agitated voice. "Not killed, but he may die." "Just Heaven, why did he do it?" The country officer regarded the beautiful speaker keenly. "So it was you who met this man, this outlaw, outside, Miss Alstine?" She made no reply, but stood with clasped hands gazing into vacancy, the very picture of woe and despair. "Miss Alstine, I demand an explanation," uttered the sheriff, sternly, at the same time taking her arm and shaking her sharply. "Sir, I—I cannot explain." "We'll see about that. Who was the man you were talking with ten minutes ago, in front of this building?" "A gentleman." "His name." "I cannot give it." "You will not, you mean." She was silent. He shook her slender frame furiously. "Girl, you cannot deceive me; the man you countenanced so unblushingly was August Bordine, the murderer!" He hissed his words out hotly, and seemed ready to crush her with his wrath. "Please take your hand from my shoulder, sir," said Rose, in a tone so calm and chilling as to surprise the over-zealous official. He did not obey. She transfixed him with her eyes and said: "Mr. Sheriff, you have no right to insult a lady as you are doing, and I shall see that you are reported." He dropped his hand and stepped backward quickly. The look in her beautiful eyes startled him. He owed his official station to the people, and he seemed of a sudden to realize that this girl was a representative of one of the wealthiest families in Grandon. She was not on the same footing as the poor widow, who had been held in confinement for weeks without the privilege of bail. "I beg your pardon, Miss Alstine," he said, quickly. "I see that I was going a little too far, but my excuse is that I am anxious to leave no stone unturned to effect the capture of that low villain, Bordine. It may be that he will have another murder to answer for after to-night." Rose shuddered at the thought. The gulf between her and August Bordine was widening to the shores of eternity, and even beyond. "I have no wish to deny that the man who met me to-night was Bordine. The meeting was wholly unexpected on my part, and I was compelled to listen to him." "Exactly. Well, it is more than likely that the scoundrel will be in the hands of the law before midnight." Then the sheriff turned away. Quite unstrung, Rose left the building without attempting to see Mrs. |
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