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Updated: June 20, 2025
Finally, when he saw that he had won interest and sympathy from Iden he abruptly launched his purpose. "Mr. Iden, I came to ask if you will give your consent to my marrying Mel." The older man shrank back as if he had been struck. He stared. His lower jaw dropped. A dark flush reddened his cheek. "What!... Lane, you must be drunk," he ejaculated, thickly. "No. I never was more earnest in my life.
As Mel untied and thrust back the veil her fingers trembled. The action disclosed a lovely face as white as snow. "Mel Iden!" burst from the magistrate. For a moment there was an intense silence. Then, "I'll not marry you," cried Hartley vindictively. "Why not? You said you would," demanded Lane. "Not to save your worthless lives," Hartley returned, facing them with a dark meaning in his eyes.
Jack's head was set aloft on London Bridge, with the face looking towards Blackheath, where he had raised his flag; and Alexander Iden got the thousand marks.
He lived with it in the darkness of midnight and in the loneliness of the hills. He had never loved Helen. Always he had loved Mel Iden all his life. Clear as a crystal he saw the truth. The war with its ruin for both of them had only augmented the powers to love. Lane's year of agony in Middleville had been the mere cradling of a mounting and passionate love.
"You must like my kisses, Mel Iden," he said. "I implore you Daren" "I implore you to marry me." "Dear friend, listen to reason," she begged. "You don't love me. You've just a chivalrous notion you can help me and my boy by giving us your name. It's noble, Daren, thank you. But " "Take care," warned Lane, bending low over her. "I can make good my word all night."
Warm summer lay on the land. The bees were humming in the rose vines over the porch. Mrs. Iden, who evidently heard Lane's step, appeared in the path, and nodding her gladness at sight of him, she pointed to the open door. Lane halted on the threshold. The golden light of the day seemed to have entered the room and found Mel. It warmed the pallor of her skin and the whiteness of her dress.
He had a secret he must hide from Mel Iden. He was human, he was alone, he needed love, but this seemed madness. And at the moment of full realization Doctor Bronson's strange words of possibility returned to haunt and flay him. He might live! A fierce thrill like a flame leaped from his heart, along his veins. And a shudder, cold as ice, followed it. Love would kill his resignation.
At home here Daren Lane has not done one thing that was not right. Some of the gossip about him is as false as hell. He has tried to do noble things. If he married Mel Iden, as you say, it was in some exalted mood to help her, or to give his name to her poor little nameless boy." Blair paused a moment in a deliberate speech that toward the end had grown breathless.
They waited what appeared a long time before they heard some one fumbling with the lock. Just then the bell in the church tower nearby began chiming the midnight hour. The door opened, and Doctor Wallace himself admitted them. "Well! Who's this?... Why, if it's not Mel Iden! What a night to be out in!" he exclaimed. He led them into a room, evidently his study, where a cheerful wood fire blazed.
It is odd enough Iden, the Kentish Esquire, has just made the ejaculation which I adopted in the last page, when he kills Cade, and posts away up to Court to get the price set upon his head. Here is a letter come from Lockhart, full of Court news, and all sort of news, best is his wife is well, and thinks the child gains in health.
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