Motion Picture Magazine (Aug 1921-Jan 1922)

^MOTION PICTURf ne>l | MAGAZINE I She descended the stairs in her mocking regalia, with a firm step — the only sign of her inward terror, the pale hands that clasped and unclasped in uncontrollable trembling "Yes," replied Deborah, cringing inwardly at the lie. An heir was Simeon Krillet's dearest wish. Its gratification altered the face of all things for him. He even allowed Deborah to go on with her reading, and said further that she might read all the books that Waring had. The privilege, however, was dearly bought for Deborah. She knew that only tragedy could ever come of the falsehood uttered in an irresistible instinct of self preservation. Krillet left the room, quoting joyfully from "The Word." "Oh Lord, Thou has blessed me, even as Abraham was blessed. My children's children yet shall play about my knees." Days went by with Krillet more attentive, Waring more restrained, and Deborah punished daily by her own guilty conscience. She and Waring were growing daily more dear to each other. He' made frantic entries in his diary. The last one said, "Deborah has told me of the lie she told her husband. What will he do when he discovers the truth? Today he goes to Frieusberg to get books and presents for his wife and prospective heir. There is no heir. My poor little Deborah." Into this troubled household came Jan claiming his marriage portion according to their agreement. Krillet had had a change of heart. He did not now wish to give it up, as he wanted everything he had for his son ; but (T\ Deborah reminded him that a promise was an oath in \(J( I Heaven, and he dare not break it. A light dawned on Krillet's saturnine countenance. "You are right, Deborah," he said, "that would be a lie — and a lie is the greatest sin, and a liar the lowest thing , on earth. The sjambok (whip) is too soft for a liar." Deborah trembled inwardly. Why had she done this thing? Krillet's lash was preferable to his kindness. But outwardly she merely smiled a courteous agreement and went and got the title for Jan, and sent him on his way rejoicing. Later Krillet prepared to gp to Frieusberg for the books and other gifts, but Waring, feeling that he knew books so much better than Krillet, offered to go in his stead. While the Kaffirs hitched up his wagon, Krillet changed his mind and sent Waring. "Plenty of books in my room," he called, as he drove off, "dont hesitate to go in and get some in my absence if Mrs. Krillet should want any. Good-bye beautiful Shulamite," he added under his breath, casting a backward glance at Deborah's window. Deborah lay upstairs in her room behind closed blinds, for a storm was brewing, and smiled happily to herself as she heard the wagon creaking off. Two whole days alone with Waring, she thought, and so she lay there, content enough for a while. The storm broke suddenly. , Nothing is more savage than a South African storm. The blinds rattled and banged against the house. The rain beat against it in veritable sheets of water. The wind whistled and shrieked like a mad thing. Lightning played its dazzling part, and mighty clasps of thunder punctuated the awe inspiring epic of the storm with terrifying frequency. Waring had just reached the farthermost Mimosa tree on Krillet's estate. He took shelter under it, hoping the storm would soon spend itself. He did not know its fury. Suddenly there was a blazing glare. The earth was bathed with fire, it seemed to Waring's blinded eyes. One second later the tree under which he stood came crashing down on top of the wagon, killing one of the horses. The other terrified animal, unable to free himself from the wreckage, stood still, trembling. Waring was thrown violently to the ground by the impact, where he lay white and still, unhurt but stunned, until the driving rain brought him back to consciousness. He loosed the frightened horse from the shafts and, mounting him with some difficulty, rode unsteadily back toward the farm. In the meantime, Krillet, with newly discovered con 64