14
INTO MARVELOUS LIQHT
SYNOPSIS.
Julian Deveaux, a New York actor of bad personal
character, goes South for rest and recreation, leav
ing in New York a young preacher, John Marsden,
who has become his friend. During the Southern
trip Deveaux meets a family at Monteagle, Tenn.,
and becomes interested in the young daughter, Chris
tiana. The father, John Douglas, is much attracted
to the young actor, but the aunt, Mrs. Wayland,
distrusts him, while the girl, Christiana, is too in
experienced to feel any special interest in Deveaux
apart from his skill in teaching her to paint.
Deveaux confesses his love to Mr. Douglas, and
attempts to win the girl with her father’s reluc
tant permission. His progress, however, is so slight
as almost to discourage him.
(Continued from last week.)
She could almost hear her own heart beat. She
caught the back of her chair, for she felt faint.
She had learned to respect and trust and admire
him. Beyond that her emotions had not gone. Now
so unexpectedly she knew that wonderful thing call
ed love had been given to her. His composure as
serted itself as he noted her confusion. With an as
suring smile, he took her trembling hands into his
own. Her blushes had flown, leaving her face whiter
than he had ever seen it.
“Do not be frightened, Annie. I would do noth
ing, say nothing that would give you one moment’s
displeasure, but may I tell you what you have be
come to me?”
As she made no reply, he was emboldened to con
tinue, “You do not say me nay, Annie—sweetest
name in all the world to me-—so I’ll tell thee a wee
bit of what thou art to me. When I come into thy
presence, it is as when the darkness of night is
dispelled by the light of day. When the brightness
of thy glorious eyes flash upon me, were I a marble
statue, methinks ’twould warm the pulse of life
within me. Were I some instrument, silent, save
when touched by a musician’s hand, did the melody
of thy voice but fall upon me. surely I should vi
brate with notes of heavenly music. Though I lay
before thee still in death, if thy hand but touched
me with affection and thy voice called me with
words of love, surely I should awaken and return
from the unknown land. Thou art my inspiration,
my life, my idol. My very soul seems to have left
me and gone to thee. I am as a block of wax in
a sculptor’s hand, to be moulded at thy will. With
the constant light of thy love ami thy presence
ever to guide me, I should feel inspired to overcome
any obstacle, reach any goal, climb any height. Thy
self forever denied me, my life is finished now. What
wilt thou do with me, Annie? Wilt thou one day
become my little wife, the queen of my home and
the idol of my heart? Or dost thou send me away
to utter despair?”
Her lips quivered. Tears rolled down her cheeks,
some falling upon their clasped hands. He kissed
where the tears fell upon hers. The touch of his
lips aroused her. She was not fully awakened to
what was occurring until this moment. His impas
sioned words had at last awakened her to love, but
only in the abstract, she was in love with love itself,
but not with Julian Deveaux. She exclaimed, “Stop,
Mr. Deveaux, please stop! You make me more mis
erable than I have ever been in my life. T am only
a child. I could not fill the position of your wife.
Let me go, dear master, please let my hands go.”
And she struggled to be released from his clasp.
“Oh, that you were my little girl-wife, Annie,
darling, let me feel that you are mine just for one
moment. Will you not say ‘yes,’ even if to last but
a few seconds, in return for the love of my whole
sc-d? I shall not hold it a binding promise. Say
‘yes,’ little sweetheart, and I shall go away, not
to ’'eturn until you send for me or let me know in
S' me way that you wish me back. Only give me one
The Golden Age for April 5, 1906.
By LLEWELYN STEPHENS.
moment of joy after such a long, weary waiting,
for I have loved you since the first time I saw you.
Give me ‘yes,’ Annie.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Instantly he caught her up to his heart, and
kissed her lips, her cheeks, her eyes, her curls with
unspeakable tenderness, at intervals exclaiming,
“My little wife, mine at last. This makes you mine,
forever mine. At last! at last!”
“No, no, no!” she exclaimed, struggling to free
herself, now thoroughly frightened at his vehe
mence. “My dear, dear master, I gave you no such
liberty as you have taken. Please leave me at once.”
Tremblingly she sank back into her chair.
He calmed himself immediately, realizing that
he had gone a step too far. Looking deeply peni
tent, he said: “Forgive me, Annie, forgive me. I
forgot all but my love for you.”
“Please leave me,” she repeated.
“Say you forgive mo, Annie, and I shall go at
once. ’ ’
“I do not know. Do not question me now. I ask
only to be left alone.”
When he had gone she threw herself upon a lounge
and was convulsed with a paroxysm of weeping. Thus
her father found her when he entered the studio
a few minutes later, and, between her sobs, drew
from her what had just occurred.
CHAPTER X.
That evening Mr. Douglas called at Mr. Dev
eaux ’s room at the Monteagle Hotel, and at once
plunged into the subject uppermost in the minds
of both men. “Well, Deveaux, you seem to have
gotten yourself into trouble this morning. You are
a genuine Frenchman in all that you do. You know
we Southerners are accused of being hot-blooded,
impulsive and all that sort of thing. But I declare,
we don’t hold a candle to you. I am afraid you,
have frightened our little girl entirely away. My
dear fellow, you’ll have to be less impulsive in
your love-making. ’ ’
“Great heavens, Mr. Douglas, have I not had the’
patience of Job all these long weeks? Never be
trayed myself by word or action? I worship the
child so, that when I found an opportunity to tell
her, I did overstep the bounds of formality. I most
humbly implored her pardon, and now I ask yours.”
’Tis granted, and I am most willing to assist you
in any way that you may suggest. But your discre
tion must aid you in being more careful in the fu
ture; I warn you.”
“Well, let me suggest that we change the routine
of affairs. Have her make her debut in Monteagle
society. There are some nice people attending the
Chautauqua. Let her see and associate with other
men. We will arrange picnics and excursions to
the many picturesque spots surrounding Monteagle.
I have some charming friends here in my hotel, and
shall have them assist me in getting some delight
ful affairs up. I shall invite some of the college men
over from the university at 'Suwanee.
“An excellent idea, but I don’t know how sister
will agree to Christiana’s making her debut at sev
enteen. I should not hear to it myself in any other
circumstances, and for any other man but you, Jul
ian.”
A most delightful affair was given at the Mont
eagle Hotel on the occasion of Christiana’s debut,
followed by many entertainments of varied charac
ter during the remainder of the Chautauqua sea
son. Deveaux never again so much as hinted at his
love, but was equally attentive to other young la
dies, and threw other men with Christiana upon
every occasion. She was deeply appreciative of his
many delicate attentions, and he was nearer to
winning her than he could possibly have done in
any other way.
The painting lessons continued, the portrait was
finished. Even Mr. Deveaux, himself, was pleased
with the portrait. The two men constantly discuss
ed their, hopes and plans. Everything was arranged
for moving to New York in October. Until definite
plans were made, Mr. Douglas had only intimated to
grandfather and grandmother Bennett his decision.
When the startling announcement was made, it
caused a funeral wail from Mrs. Bennett. She pre
dicted misfortunes and disasters beyond description.
Again she bewailed the day her Mary married
James Douglas. She bewailed Christiana’s raising,
she bewailed everything. But Mr. Douglas was fully
decided. His cottage was advertised for rent. The
day of departure even had been chosen a week
later. What really occurred within that week, Jul
ian Deveaux attributed to inexplicable fate.
Mr. Douglas was sketching on Table Rock one
afternoon, just after a rain. As he stepped near its
outer edge, his foot slipped, and he was precipitated
upon the sharp rocks thirty feet below, causing
fatal injuries. Some sight-seers near heard his
groans. A physician* was immediately summoned, a
stretcher was brought, and he was carried into his
home as one dead. When revived from the effect
of the opiate given him, he looked about him with
the first light of consciousness, and his eyes fell
upon Christiana and Deveaux.
“My daughter, my son, I have but a few hours
to live. To die content I must see my little one with
a protector, a father, a husband to take my place.
Clasp your hands in mine, both of you, and tell me,
darling, are you willing- it should be so?”
Deveaux put his arm about her, and with all
the tenderness of his sou], asked, “Annie, may it
be so?”
She laid her hands in his, and he placed them be
tween the outstretched ones of Mr. Douelas.
“I shall now die happy, when I’ve heard the vow
made before God. Hasten a minister that the vows
may be sealed.”
“Not to-day, father; God will not take you to
day. I cannot do it to-day. Wait till to-morrow.”
Mrs. Wayland, grandfather and grandmother Ben
nett, the doctors and others stood around the bed
side. This dying request fell upon them like a thun
derbolt. None of them had suspected Mr. Deveaux’s
intentions. Mrs. Wayland sat as one paralyzed.
Julian Deveaux immediately telegraphed John
Marsden to come on the first train, saying, “It is
a case of life and death.”
He came the following morning, and on alight
ing from the train anxiously asked, “Well, Julian,
for what sad mission have you called me?”
“I have called you to marry me.”
“To marry you! I thought you said it was a mis
sion of life and death!”
“So it is. My little darling’s father is dying, and
requested the ceremony to be performed before he
died. We must hasten. His time is very short!
Come! ’ ’
“But, Julian, I must ask, what does your getting
married mean ? Are you, the man that you are, mar
rying a good, pure woman?”
“If angels exist in this hell of a world, John,
she is one. And I am a different man than when I
left you. Not once have I given way to my deadly
drug since I looked upon her face. Not once have
I given away to my hellish moods. You can’t im
agine the influence she has over me until you see
her. Then you will not be surprised.”
“But, Julian, I must know what you have done
with Ariane Bouvier?”
Nothing.”
“What are you going to do with her?”
“What is that to you, John?”
“It is my duty as a minister of a just and holy
God to refuse to wed an innocent woman to an un
faithful husband. It is my duty to tell this dying
father to what manner of man he is giving his