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sideration, decided that only a book of Waring's would keep Deborah cheerful during the storm, which still raged in unabated fury.
lie had taken a handful of books from the table in Waring's room, when an unexpected clap of thunder startled him so, that he dropped the books that he held, knocking several others off at the same time. Waring's diary lay open on the floor. The damning sentence, "If Krillct beats Deborah, I will kill him. God help me. I love her," met his eye. lb feverishly turned the pages to the last entry. "Deborah has told me of the lie shetold her husband. What will he do when he discovers the truth? Today be goes to Frieusberg to get books and presents for his wife and prospective heir. There is no heir. My poor little Deborah."
The man's face grew livid. Great drops of >weat stood out on his forehead, llis hands shook, as with a palsy. I le turned suddenly, and confronted 1 )eborah, who came smiling into the room. She was dressed with great care, be noted with hitherto unobservant eves.
The word "Robert" died on Deborah's lips. She bad thought her bus . band well on bis way to Frieusberg.
"Read, woman," Krillet thundered in a terrible voice, pointing to the page of the diary that said : "If Krillet beats Deborah, 1 will kill him. (iod help me, 1 love her."
Joy at the declaration suddenly wiped the fear from Deborah's face:
"(lod help me, too," she cried. "I love him."
Krillet said nothing, but turned the pages to the last entry.
Deborah paled.
"Well," she whispered thru dry
lips.
Outraged pride and religious fanaticism contorted Krillet's features into those of a madman.
"Dont beat me, Simeon." bis wife cried for the second time, "I couldn't bear it."
"You are past the rod — Liar!" he shrieked suddenly. "For the faithless wife, the punishment is death. Gome."
Half leading, half dragging the terrified woman, he got her to her own room. Mernke, always on guard for bis beloved mistress, overheard the terrible sentence. Altho bis knees shook, and his eyeballs rolled upward showing nothing but their gleaming whites, from his fright, he bravely dashed out into the storm, running down the road Waring had taken, as fast as his legs could carry him.
Krillet ordered Deborah, with grim humor, to put on her wedding gown. She was to be the bride of Death, to whom there could be no unfaithfulness. For the second time in her life, Deborah arrayed herself in all her bridal finery. It was not so different from the first time, she mused bitterly. After ail, what did even death matter, if she couldn't have Waring? She descended the stairs in
OTION PIC1UR[7
MAGA2IIIS -\
her mocking regalia, with a firm step — the only sign of V
her inward terror, the pale hands that clasped and unclasped in uncontrollable trembling.
Out into the storm her husband dragged her, thru the kitchen garden, past the fowl-/;!)//, beyond the Kaffir's huts, squatting in uneven clusters, to the huge rambling old barn, lie stood her up against the farthest wall, wet and shivering with cold and fear. Whiter than the white lace of her wedding dress, she yet stood erect "My beautiful Shuia
, • i *. i ; u \ , mite." tic said with
( C oniinncd on hitac 100)
' ■' ' passionate tenderness,
"My Deborah, mine now — and forever"