In the Sleepy Hollow Country (concluded) [pp. 83-97]

In the Sleepy Hollow Country.
"But there is one thing, Eduarda. Do
not think I suspect you-but do you remember the night before this last attack of mine?
Yes? Well, I was restless. I could not
sleep; and in the night I arose and sat beside my window, smoking. I saw you that
night, Eduarda, beneath my window, and
you were talking to Manuel Lopez."
"Well?" breathlessly.
"I could not help hearing a little of your
conversation "-was it a look of startled apprehension flashing in the brown eyes?"but not much. What is Manuel Lopez
to you, Eduarda?"
Once more was a chance of salvation
held out to her, but this was no time to
waver. She must go forward resolutely in
the path she had chosen. A brown pallor
overpowered the color in her face —but she
answered steadily:
"Nothing. "
"Nothing? there was no promise then?
And yet he spoke as One having a right to
command."
"Promise, no." Again there were
waves of rich color above the brown, but
her voice grew firmer as she went on, and
her face resumed its pallor. She seemed
literally to have the power of forcing the
blood from her cheeks. "Manuel and I
were school-fellows years ago. He called
me his little wife, in those days. All the
world has turned against him —but he
asked me to meet him that night and, for
old times' sake, I consented. Was it very
wrong?" —with an appealing look in her
brown eyes. "I told him that the sheriff
was searching for him, and begged himn, for
my sake, for his dead mother's sake, to quit
the country. That is all. It may have
been unwise, but I had known him so long,
and Manuel was not always evil. I believe
that there is much of good in him, even yet,
if he could be brought to forsake his bad
companions."
What man could find it in his heart to
rebuke the charitable impulses of a woman,
especially of the woman he loved? Not
John Shelton, truly. He only thought that
Lopez must be more hardened than the
arch-fiend himself, to resist this gentle
pleader. And yet there was something
contaminating in the bare thought of Eduarda Newman associating, be it ever so
casually, with this dusky outlaw. Not that
she was contaminated. Shelton only felt
that he himself, in some occult way, had
been guilty —as though the weight and responsibility of her transgression had somewhat fallen upon his shoulders.
"And now, Mr. Shelton, if you will
excuse me?"
"Certainly" he said, at once releasing
her hand. He realized that this interview
must have been trying for her; but not even
he knew how trying.
He sank back upon the pillow when she
had gone, trying to think, to recall her expression, the tones of her voice.
Did John Shelton, a man knowing hinmself on the verge of eternity, love this beautiful girl who had so recently come into
his life? Certainly, if he did, there was
nothing selfish in his love —and was there
ever an earthly love without selfishness?
He knew that he felt toward her a sense of
protection, a desire to shield her from want
and care in the years that were to come.
There was in him no conscious wish to live
and enjoy her. He might like to be where
he could watch over and shelter her —but
earth and its pleasures had no charm for
him now. He would be better at rest,
knowing her future assured. A higher and
holier flame seemed to have been born in
his heart of the ashes that Edna Summers
had left there two years ago. Perhaps it
was more the love of a father for his child
than of a man for a woman —but whatever it was, he knew that he was a better
man, more fitted to die, for having lived
and suffered it.
And Eduarda! She crossed the narrow
hall upstairs, and went into her own room,
1887.]
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