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THE BANNER-W ATCHMAN, ATHENS, GEORGIA MAY 14, 1889. *
im
-^ oU1 S- Ho incurred adebt o7 nearly never make any allowance on sucli a a crime, there tfiiist Le provided a cnhl
a thousand dollars at play last night.
The money has to be repaid this evening,
• ( under pain of social exposure. Hi
• unable to borrow again, 1 and It male lira
_ \ Situation very trying. When a man in
~-*TUlARY OF INSPECTOR BYRNES.
subject. It would be a useless pain to
both of us to attempt to. discuss it, and
1 am not going to put myself in the way
of it No, I can’t agree with you, judge,”
he added, as the judge seemed about to
that condition suddenly find two or three make a rejoinder; “I have been through
thousand dollars in his jiands, and re- as much as I can stand for the present, and
By JULIAN HAWTHORNE, Author of mem,Jers they belong to a woman any thing more would break me down.
“Tho a™** w t> ,, n ii. * whom he has every reason to think will Say to mother that I will see her by and
me wreat Bank Robbery," An ^not betray him-well, when a skillful by, but not now.”
American PenmanT* Eto» j lawyer tells that story to a jury, it would
; : j not be surprising if it makes some im-
JCopyriRht by O H. Dunham, and published, P re ® ri OT> on them.”
JlSin a, I^7C ent „ b £ JP* Araencaa ! “You don’t take any stock in such
and London.) ' ork rubbish yourself, inspector,
Martin, with a laugh.
The inspector lifted his eyebrows.
observed
CHAPTER IX.
BAIU
A VE
you any
knowledge about
this, Mia. Tun-
6 tall?” inquired
the judge, when
he and Martin
were in the street
together.
“It’s a nasty
c o m p 1 i c ation,”
replied the Eng-
lishman. “I
fancy Percy has
been making a
fool o f himself
about her. There was no actual harm
done, you understand; but there was
some nonsense and imprudence, and
Tubs tall, somehow or other, got wind of
it. Percy has been in a state of mind
lately, but 1 didn’t expect the woman
would behave In this way. I suppose
she had tlio alternative of turning against
her husband or against Percy, and find
ing that the strongest battalions were on
her husband’s side, she very prudently
and with much propriety sided with him.
But what is Percy’s defense?”
“Ho denies the charge," the judge an
swered; “but ho has no theory as to how
the thing happened.” ^ .
“"What is the theory of the prosecu
tion as to the disappearance of the baxJl
motes?"
• "They assume that Percy must hav®
passed them to a confederate.”
“Was anybody resembling a confede*
ate seen hanging about?”
The shop was full of people comin|
and going; but no one in particular was
noticed.”
“It’s a lame theory,” remarked Martin,
after a little consideration. “If Percy
had passed a confederate the money, he
would have passed him the purse too.
It is more likely that whoever did the
stealing kept the notes, which could not
be identified, and got rid of the purse,
which could bo identified, by dropping it
.into Percy’s pocket us he passed by.”
tjj*. “I think that view is a sound one,*'
said the judge; “but the thief has got
off, and the prospect of apprehending
him is very email. Percy may not be
convicted; I hardly think he could be;
but there is, nevertheless, evidence
■enough against him to produce a dis
agreeable effect upon persons not ao
quainted with him. • And, of course,
when it is known that Mrs. Tunstall was
acquainted with him, and yet did not
hesitate to accuse him, hi3 position-
even al ter lie lias been legally exonerated
—will bo a painful and embarrassing one.
I am inclined to thing that the best thing
ffor him will be to leave New York and
remain away for some years. Meantime,
the affair will be forgotterf, and possibly
the true culprit may be discovered.”
• “I agree with you,” said Martin,
thoughtfully. “Percy can be of no us®
here, no matter liow the affair turns out,
1 have a mind to propose to him to go
with me."
j “To go with you!” repeated the judge,
with an involuntary accent of surprise.
“I infer, then, that you contemplate
'leaving New York?”
“1 shall leave New York very shorty.
My idea is to go to Australia by way of
San Francisco. In Australia Percy
would have a fair field to start out and
do something. 1 might be able to give
him some help.”
“His family should feel much in
debted to you,” observed the judge,
cordially.
■ “There’s no obligation,” returned Mar
tin. “I am fond of Percy—not on his
own account only. If 1 can be of any
good to him I shall consider myself
lucky.”
' The two gentlemen now entered a
horse car, and the conversation ceased.
Martin lapsed into a gloomy revery; but
the judge's spirits seemed, for some rea
son, to have visibly improved. He had
received a severe shock at the moment
when he entered the room and found
Pauline and Martin together. The lat
ter’s announcement of his intended de
parture brought an immense relief. He
bad already begun to like the young
Englishman, but he now began to regard
him with sincere affection,
i They left the car at Bleecker 6treet and
proceeded to police headquarters. There
was still a quarter of an hour before the
' formality of getting bail could be ar-
. % ranged. They were admitted to the in
spector’s room, and at the judge’s request
he courteously gave permission to them
to have an interview with the prisoner,
i “How is he standing it, inspector?”
asked Martin.
“He doesn’t find it amusing, I suppose;
but he is as comfortable as could be ex
pected,” replied the impenetrable officer.
“There will be no difficulty in getting
bail, will there?”
“I presume there will be nothing un
usual. But the case is not a simple one.
There are some awkward features to it.”
r .“How is that?” demanded the judge.
1 “Well, as regards motive for one
thing.”
- “It would need a strong motive to give
weight to such an accusation,” Martin
remarked,
i ‘'That may be true for those who have
, made up their minds beforehand not to
believe him guilty. But the jury will
not be composed of such persons.”
“■What 1b the evidence you speak orr
asked Martin.
“He has been short of money for some
time past,” said the inspector. “There
is reason to think that he borrowed a sum
of money several weeks ago. But within
the "last twodays his needs became very
I
should be very apt to take the same view
of the case that the judge and jury do—
after I know what it is,” he returned,
quietly; and tliat was all that could be
got out of him.
They nqw descended to the basement
and were conducted to the imprisoned
Percy. He was much more composed
than they had expected to find him. In
fact, lie had experienced such intense
and varied emotion during the last few
hours that no matter for discomposure
was left in him. Martin’s presence
seemed to gratify him. Ho asked the
judge about his mother and sister, and
received his somewhat rose colored ac
count of their condition with apparent
indifference.
“But you will be able to judge of them
for yourself at dinner,” the judge added,
kindly.
“You mean when I am out on bail? 1 '
“Certainly: that will be in a couple of
hours from now."
Are you going to furnish bail. Judge
Ketelle?"
“Undoubtedly I am. Who has a bet
ter claim to stand by your father’s son?”
Percy was silent a moment. “Have
you ever believed that I might possibly
have committed this crime?” he asked at
length.
“No such idea has ever entered my
head. I am surprised you should ask me
such a question," said the judge, with
an emphasis that indicated that he was
a little hurt by the insinuation.
Percy took a long breath, and as he
looked up his face betrayed signs of a
feeling that he had not hitherto be
trayed. “You are a good man,” he said
in a husky voice. • "I wish I had had the
sense to trust you long ago. I was afraid
you would pitch into me, and the fact
that 1 deserved it made it all the more
difficult to face it. 1 don’t know
whether you have heard that I borrowed
a thousand dollars from my mother two
months ago. She wanted to consult you,
but I wouldn't let her. This morning I
went to her again; but she didn't have
anything, and there was nothing for it
but to apply to you. I was on my wa y
your office when this thing occurred. If
I had not happened to see her” He
He broke off and altered his phrase—“if
things had not taken the turn they did I
should long since have received your
blowing up and the money, paid my
debt, and—but it turned out otherwise.”
“Who is the man to whom you lost
the money?” inquired Martin.
“His name is Henry Cotton," answered
Percy. “You know him.”
. “To be sure; and he is a friend of Tun-
stall’s,” returned Martin, thoughtfully.
“Upon my word, the luck is against you.
Will you answer mo one question?”
“If 1 can.”
“You can, and we are among friends.
Are you cured of a certain lady?”
Percy laughed, and that laugh of bit
ter resentment and humiliation was a
more convincing answer than any words
could have framed,
rest.
The judge saw that the young man
was obstinate, and felt that his sensitive
ness was, under the circumstances, not
discreditable. He further reflected tliat,
in the course of a day or two, he would
probably be more disposed to modify his
resolution. Accordingly, he relinquished
for the present the attempt to persuade
him, and having ascertained tliat he
would take up his quarters with Martin
pending farther movements, he bade
him farewell, little thinking how long a
time would elapse lieforo they met again.
Percy and Valentine betook-themselves
to the latter’s rooms at once, and, hav
ing ensconced themselves there, Martin
poured out some whisky, offered, Iris
friend a cigar, and after they had
smoked fora while, said:
“How much do you owe-here, outside
of your gambling debt?”
“Not more than three knodred dol
lars.” ■ :
“Thirteen hundred dollars 1 debts, and
your bail fifteen hundred. Two thousand
eight hundred altogether. 1 have over
seven thousand dollars. What do you
say to my settling all your liabilities to
morrow, and taking you with me to
Australia?”
CHAPTER X.
PADLINE.
II E egnest ion
staggered Percy
fora moment.
“I didn’t know
you were going
to Australia,” he
said.
“To Australia,
or Mexico, or
South America,
or the North Pole;
it don't make
much difference
where. But I am
going, and I’m
going to morrow.
Aud I want you
to*come with me.
Percy.”
“And jump my bait?*
“And jump your badl.”
“I can’t do that. Judge Ketelle is
liable.”
“Haven’t I told you that I will settle
all your liabilities? Half an hour before
we leavo New York, I will post a check
to him for the amount. Your friend
Henry Cotton will reeeive ■ his dues thi3
evening: everything shall be paid. And
we will be off together and make a fort
une, if you, like.”^
“If I went olf in that way,” said Percy,
after a little thought, “everybody would
come to the conclusion that 1 was guilty
and feared conviction.”
“You aro not guilty, are you?”
“No.”
“But you do fear conviction, and all
the more if you're not guilty than if you
aro. That stands to reason,
“Of course I hope not to be convicted,
but'
“Exactly; and now do you know what
I think? I think there is a strong proba
bility—a deuced strong one—that you
will be convicted. You can see for your
self that your defense doesn’t amount to
t=. row of pins. And if once you get into
jail, my boy, you are done for. Inno-
It put all doubts to ‘ cent or guilty makes no difference; you
| will have a stiataa on you that nU the
Inal; that is the legal maxim, and in de
fault of a better you will hare to bear
the brunt”
“It is not myself, only, that is to be
considered, Val.; my mother and sister
are quite as important.”
“J don’t deny it; it’s a pert of my argu
ment. You said this afternoon that you
did not intend to see them again until
after you were vindicated. D3st you- mean
what you said?”
“Certainly I did.”
“I think you were right in your de
cision, for more reasons than or*. But
if you remain in New York you will 1 not
be able to keep your resolution. If you
don’t! go to them they will come to you.
But if you are a thousand or two thou
sand miles away you will have no *uch
embarrassment. And tliat isn’t all, my
boy. If you were put in jail it would lie
a bad thing for you, but it would simply
kill your mother outright and ruin your
sister's prospects as effectually as your
own. Whereas, if you go off with me,
you and I can keep up a correspondence*
with them and explain exactly how Use-
case stands. They can watch your career
step by step, and the knowledge that
they are doing-.so will give you thestrong-
est stimulus to- succeed that you could
have. Meanwiiile they will be watching-
the progress of affairs here, and as soon
as anything turns up in your favor they
can let you know and you can act ac
cordingly. If there were no other reason,
for jumping yonn bail, consideration for
your mother and sister would be enough.”
This suggestion practically decided
Percy. “1 botieveyou are right,” said
he; “but I don’t see what right I have to
let you pay all my. liabilities. You and I
havelieen friends, Val:, hut I havenever
done anything for you, and I have no-
prospect of repaying you for what you
propose to do for me.”
“You will owo me less than you sup
pose,” Valentino replied. “In the first
place, my money is no use to me; if I
didn’t spend it fox you, it would go into*
the pockets of the-tradesmen and bum
mers of New York. In the second place,.
I want your company; we suit eaclh
other, and that is- not a thing that hap*
pens every day. But the real truth is—
I havenever spoken to you about it, alt
though you may have guessed something-
for aaght I know—the truth is that I ami
a good deal influenced in what I am
stepped quidklf Hlsfde.
Percy recoiled a pa-» or two with a
disagreeable sensation. Ho thought that
the visitor was Mrs. Tunstall. But the
next moment, she spoke, and the voice
was that of his sister. “I am so glad you
are here!” she said breathlessly. “I
feared 1 should miss you.”
“Are you alone? How did you come
here?” returned ha Ho closed the door
and- led her into the sitting room.
“ Judge Ketelle told us that you were
staying, vrith Mr. Martin. Is he”—she
glanced about the room and hesitated.
“He-has-gone out,” said Percy. “Did
you come-to-see him?”
“I csuneto-seeyou, Percy. Icanwider-
stand why you kept away from us* but i
wanted Co* Cell you that I am your si6ter.
I love y®ui and Ixdieve in you, and what
ever happens you can trust me. Let me
do something, for you!” She spoke with
great emotion, though in a controlled
voice, and ke-could perceive that a tremor
passed through-her now anil then as she
stood before him.
A feeling oft strong brotherly tender-
, ness and gratitude came over the young
man; lie put iii&armsround Pauline and
kissed her. “1 couldn't do that if i
i wasn’t innocent,, my dear," he said.
“Of course H know you are innocent!”
she exclaimed Indignantly. “What made
that woman accuse- you? She knows it
\ is- false. Why is-she your enemy?”
Percy hesitated. “Appearances were
against me," be-muttered.
“What are appearances to any one
who knows you? 5 ” broke out Pauline, im
patiently. “She-must have hated you.
Why did she hate-you? Women do not
hate unless * * * has she ever loved
you, Percy?” site- demanded with a
changed voice.
“She—why, she’s a married woman!"
: he-returned, uneasily.
There was a pause. “Yes, I under
stand now!” continued the girl, with a
i sad laugh. "Ob, my poor brother!"
' Slie -caught her breath and sobbed once
, or.twice. “ I arm so- sorry it is that,” she
said, tremulously.
“I have been.ia fool, but nothing worse
than tliat,” said!the-young man. “There
is no actual simont my conscience, Pau
lino. It is no thanks to me, but it is the-
truth. It is s&! over now, and I thank
heaven It is over!”
“I thank heaven, too, Percy; foe
whatever you had done I should support
the slip ^
afternoon, J noticed f ° ut
pipe on tlw oppose ****
and when I Mtume?£ er '*%
passed the satee i Uun ^?
J<*t below. iKSlS**!
Cadence; but tbtn ^
*;A detecUve?’’"*!^ 11 ,^^
^SometlungQfc^^y
it is- well to l,e
what l propose ia tbia^
same height and bu'iii 6
unlike: If wo w ’• and l
ere dres^
chief pce.it of dLs t i nc - , " •
one who did not know ?
the fact 3 hat you
whiskers. What do yo“ I H
a disguise? You mu anjpb.
dressing cave; Ri iave off
and then puts on these" \* Dr -.
produced from his ikx-l-mS
false whisker* “All y ^
heat this inside surface
»n,l they will ding , '
grown. Tln-n-pnion,
coat, and our detective
ffellow if he recognizes yJS
"But what will you ,(/
“1 shall remain what I am
start an hour before l d 0
way. you had better turn ’
you leave here, so-as to
nil
»Ptci
sion that you are- bound 2?'
I ‘ h an to the United Stati
i Steamship company’s
! wards you can cm**, l
" nueand take the elevated (U *
meet you on l>oard the J*'
trunks wil! go byexpre.fcN
All right, said Percy, wjjjj
for ho was a good, looking £
j his uiustacho was not wholly
\ to-him. "And when w e
[ recall resume ou»naturalselm.
; ‘' Aa soo: » a* you. like,"
i tin. “though perl-up* it
« harm if we exchanged r,.^
doing by the faetthat you are Pauline 7 CU and de^nd yom and if you w^-v
Nolens brother.” J kicked I should be wicked, too. I am
“Ah! You care-for her, then?”
“Yes, I care for her. She is the Near
est friend I have in the world, and for
her sake I would do most things. But
she can never be more than my Sriend,
and 1 can do very little.”
“If you want to marry her, I am sure
she”
Valentine* Interrupted him with a gest
ure. “It can never come to a question
of that.” said lie; “I am married already.”
your sister”—it seemed to give her satis
faction to repeat tins—“we are the same
flesh and blood; if we do not stand by
each other, who else will? But what
thall you do, Percy? You cannot tell
that in couxt.”
He took a quick resolution. “I shall
never appeej in court," he said.
“Has. the ease been put aside?” she ex
claimed eagerly.
“No;. 1 am going away. I ana going
“Youareamiirried"m*ani^Does'Pauiine I ^vith Martin. He has gone to toke our
passages-to the West Indies b,y to-mor
row’s steamer.”
“Ah!” ejaculated Martin, with an ex
pression of satisfaction, “then it will be
all rightl” ,
At that moment an officer came with
the information that the court was ready
to decide the question of bail, and the
whole party proceeded to the court room.
The transactions there were brief and
not particularly complicated. Mrs.
Tunstall’s lawyers professed to consider
the case an especially grave one, and re
quested that bail be fixed at the full
amount permitted by law. Counsel on
the Other side maintained that the charge
agaiust Mr. Nolen was a preposterous
one, and demanded tliat ho be allowed
go on his own recognizance. The court,
after due deliberation, declared tliat the
facts against the prisoner, tliough not
conclusive, were sufficient to warrant a
prima facie evidence of guilt, and re
quired bail to be furnished to the amount
of fifteen hundred dollars. Judge Ke
telle immediately qualified for tliat sum,
the bonds were signed, and the prisoner
left the court with liis friends.
“And now,” said the judge cheerfully,
“the worst is over. Let us get into a
hack, Percy, and drive up to the house.
Your mother and sister will be anxious
to see you.”
“I am much obliged to you, judge, for
all you have clone for me,” replied the
young man; “I wish I had known you
sooner and better. But this affair is not
over yet, and it may end differently from
what we hope. Until the trial, at all
events, I must remain a suspected man,
and I can’t go V> my mother’s house with
that suspicion hanging over me. When
I have been publicly acknowledged to bo
an honest man I will go to my mother
and sister, but not till then.”
“My dear boy,” said the judge kindly,
“you aro a little off your balance after
all this trouble, and you naturally take a
morbid view. 1 assure you you have no
need to feel sore about the matter. I
need not tell you that you will find noth
ing but love and confidence awaiting you
at home, and that there can bo no other
place in tho world where you can hope to
find them to anytliing like .tho same de
gree. On tho other hand, your mother
and Pauline could not fail to feel hurt if
you did not appear.”
“That is all. very true, judge,” Percy
answered, “but there’s something else
that you haven't considered, and which
* yeais of your life will never obliterate.
If I were in your place, I wouldn’t risk
it. You have an opportunity to escape
now, and you had better take advantage
of it.”
“But if I escape judgment will go
against mo by default, and I shall have
the stigma just the same."
“Listen to reason, Percy. To have the
stigma of being adjudged guilty is bad
enough; but what is it compared to being
adjudged guilty and sent to jail into
the bargain? If you were actually guilty,
or if 1 thought you were, tho situation
would be different; but you are inno
cent, though you can’t prove it; and,
being innocent, why should you spend
two or three years in Sing Sing just to
gratify the spite of Cuthbert Tunstall
and his wife? It would be more sensible
to take that razor and cut your throat
You are innocent, and you have a per
fect right to avoid being imprisoned if
you can. No one will suffer by it, and
there is no telling how much you may
gain. The robbery of ^liich you are ac
cused was committed by somebody, and
probably by a professional thief. Pro
fessional thieves—pickpockets especially
—are always practicing their trade; and
sooner or later they are certain to get
caught When the thief who stole
Mrs. Tunstall’s money is caught it is
more than likely that the truth about the
robbery may come out; you will be vin
dicated, and then you may come home
with flying colors. But if your vindica
tion came after you had served your time
in jail it wouldn't uo you much good—
not to mention the positive harm tliat
jail life might have done you in the
meanwliile; people would never forget
that you liad worn the stripes, though
they might easily forget whether or not
you had deserved to wear them. But
come back with a fortune—come back
after having made a respectable name
for yourself in another part of the world
—or after having 6imply lived in free
dom instead of in bondage and in the
society of thieves—and, trust me, you
will never regret it! This is not a mat
ter to be treated on sentimental grounds;
it is a serious tiling—quite as serious as a
question of life and death to you. You
are innocent, and you have a right to
your freedom; that’s the case in a nut
shell Don’t throw away your whole
career for a figure of speech!
know it?”
“I tobl her this morning. It’s a long
story, and you shall hear it another time
if you want to. I married in haste, and
I am likely to have plenty of leisure to ro-
pent. Well, you can imagine that noth*
ing could please me so much as serving
her in any way I can, anil I know that
no better way is open to me than to give
a helping hand to you. Bo, if you agree
to join mo, you will be doing me the best
kindness that one man can do another—
it is not to be measured in time, or
money, or anything else. My prospects,
as you may suppose, are not especially
cheerful at the host; but whatever good
comes to me will b? from tho thought
tliat I am of- somo good to Pauline’s
brother. 1 can’t live with her, or see her
any longer; but I can live with you, and
tliat’3 the next best thing, not to men
tion tliat you are tolerably good company
on your own account-” He ended with
a laugh.
‘‘It s very kind of you to put it in thai
way, old fellow,” said Percy, in a some
what unsteady tone. “Well, I’ll go with
you. I have been a drug in the market
so far, and I won’t make any promises;
but I don’t think you’ll find me a volun
tary drag on you, at all eveuts. Have
you any definite plans?”
“1 have a thousand; we have only to
pick and choose,” Valentine replied.
“My intention this morning was to go
direct to Australia by way of San Fran
cisco, hut I think I shall change that, for
one reason, because I mentioned it to
Judgo Ketelle, and, in any case, it will
be well to get outside the country as soon
as possible. We might go to Mexico by
steamer, to begin with. I have some
good letters to people there, so that we
shan’t- be strangers. If anything good
turns up we can stay there; if not we
can go to Colon and Panama, and get
aboard somo vessel bound westward.
You may find an opportunity to make a
practical acquaintance with mining be
fore you are done.”
It was then about 4 o’clock in the after
noon. On consulting a newspaper they
learned that one of the United States and
Brazil Mail Steamship company’s vessels
sailed on the following day, Wednesday,
will be certain to come out, now that
the thing is going into the newspapers.”
“What is that?”
“My relations with Mrs. Tunstall. My
mother will hear of that, and tliat is a
i thing I can’t deny. I love my mother,
and I know she loves me; but she could
This was a powerful appeal, and it lost
nothing by Martin’s delivery. It pro
duced an evident impression on Percy.
“If I were certain that I should be con
victed,” he muttered, half to himself.
“You may fairly take that for grant
ed^ said Martin. **wi,ow n,i... t...»-*
‘When there has been
“Well, perhaps it i3 best.” slio re
turned, with a composure tliat surprised
him. “Your bail has to bo paid, has it
not? I will do that—I have money.”
“Martin lias done it already. He will
pay everything. 1 shall leave no debts,
thanks to him. I (hank you just the
same, my darling sister.”
“He is a good friend—he is a good
man,” she said thoughtfully. “I can af
ford to let him do it, for I know ho does
it willingly. So you are going away to
gether!” She gave a long sigli. “Well,
I will take care of mother.”
“Poor mother!” said Percy, a great
wavo of grief and remorse coming over
him. .“Tell her the beat you can of mo,
Pauline.”
“1 can manage her—don’t fear! It
will come right at last, I know. I will
go now, brother.” She threw her arms
around him, “Re good,” she said; “do
tho best you can. Oh, Percy, Percy!
she suddenly cried out. with a heart
breaking sob, pressing him to her with
passionate energy. “I must go now, or
never,” slie said, controlling herself by
an immense effort; and the next moment
he was alone. But tho ardor of her last
embrace had something more than sis
terly; it conveyed a message to. one who
was absent.
CHAPTER XI.
AT SEA.
ARTIN
came
back about
o'clock. He had
secured a state
room with t w
good berths; he
had paid Percy’s
bills at the trades
men’s and at his
lodging house,
and from the lat
ter place he had
brought the
trunk containing
the young man’s
worldly posses
sions, which were
fortunately not numerous, and consisted
at 2 o’clock. This vessel stopoed at St ! clliefl y of suits of clothes and underwear.
Thomas, where, if they saw fit, they
might disembark and take passage to
Havana, and thence to Vera Cruz and
Mexico, thus throwing possible pursuers
off the scent. This seemed to be the best
route open to them; and, as there was no
time to be lost, Martin left at once for
Broad street to secure their passage.
Pei**y was left alone to meditate on his
position.
Martin's rooms were in a bachelor
apartment house, not far from the junc
tion of Fifth avenue and Broadway.
The roar of the streets was audible as a
continuous sound; and to Percy, sitting
in an, easy chair before the fire, and
wearied with the emotions and vicissi
tudes of the day, it had the soporific in
fluence of the wind among pines, or the
noise of surf on a shore. The sun had
set, and the room became dusky. Percy’s
eyes closed, and he was just on the point
of failing asleep.
The sharp sound of the electric bell
aroused him. Had Martin returned al
ready? He must have left his pass key,
to be obliged to ring. Still partly asleep,
Percy arose and went to the door and
opened it. A lady stood on the thres
hold, and as the door swung back she
They went to a quiet restaurant and had
dinner, and then returned to Martin’s,
and spent the rest of the evening in pack
ing up liis effects.
Percy said nothing to his friend about
Paulino’s unexpected and hurried visit
that evening, not on account of any pre
determined purpose, but because the in
terview had affected him too deeply to
make it an easy topic of conversation;
because, knowing Martin’s feeling to
wards her, he was uncertain whether it
would bo expedient to mentiou her at
present; and, further, because' he
doubted whether Martin would approve
of his course in admitting Pauline to a
knowledge of their plans. In revealing
the secret to her, Percy had acted on the
spur df the moment; but he felt tliat the
impulse was a wise one, and subsequent
reflection had not caused him to re
gret it.
They went to bed at midnight thor
oughly tired out; but were up again by
8 in the morning, and had 6ome coffee
un d eggs brought to them by the janitor.
"The chances are," observed Martin,
as he cracked liis egg in the English
stylo, and put some salt in it, “that the
authorities, who are pretty wide awake
j may happen, or wlu-re som«
.1 turn U P u 'bo mign.it liml itf or |
i 631 or amusement to gossip ti
the wrong quarter.”
Breakfast heiix; over, noilj,
mained but to label; the trunii
Martin did by writing his nam e
of (he steamer on tags, and
them to the handb-s; an exjins^
then called and the trunks weren
Percy sacrificed hisimwtacheiit
the whiskers, an-i. finally, attirai
friend’s outer garments, left ^
without interfeaence and streia
the Thirty-thinkstreet elevated
From there it v,as a twenty tnisi
to his destination, and then all
do was to go co board and wait
tin. The latter arrived in d«
and at 2 o'clock*the steamer®
into the river and pointed hernia
the Narrows, much to tho relid
at least of her passengers. And*
of them were leaving liohinda
dearer than anything tiiejcoiSi
to encounter. But — those tk$
deep; the more trilling onejq
pea red on the surface,
There were but few othfi pa
on the steamer, and these not Ink
pie-whose society was espvcial!;
tire, Percy and Valentine pa
greater part of the time tn eaci
company. Valentine had an all
exhaustible fund of anecdotes
ing his past life and adventures
and many hours were spent inn
those experiences to Percy, i
American had become almost
versant with the Englishman's]*
as if it had been liis own. Tie
of hia marriage interested him
anything else.
Valentine had met the girl ft
outward bound steamer from
New Zealand. He had previous!; 1
nothing of her, nor heard her
it afterwards transpired tlisi*j
well acquainted with liis family *
a cousin of hers, with whom t*
sponded,having been engagd**
ion to Lady Martin during^'
She had thus learned a M 1
supposed to be known by f-* 1
outside the family circle—ti*
tine’s elder brother, who m*
estate, was subject to asptf*
which, though not always
with long life, might bring »
moment. *
ouM
a close at any
event, tho property
Valentine. Meanwhile. \^- eI
done xtravagances were nets
the girl, and she believed w-.
sessed of a comfortable
thing like twenty ttou-H
sum not much in excess.
what he would have had,
his money to ad vantage an
his income.
She was a handsome ^
same age as Valentine, an
ner and temperament e-^ 1 -'
ing to a young fellow « 1 ,
warmly in liis veins, an
interminable leisure of a •
antipodes hang very l,eaV J.
She permitted him t°f ! u ‘
tion that he was anything
to her; in fact, to ^
phrase, she set her ca P‘ jfrf
entine, who spoke of hm
serve as a poor man, a ,
aware that she disbehe' ,
turns on that head, an • j|
as politic attempts to c
wealth and prospects ^
completely fascinate - (
her person and confer" j
committed himself «‘ ^
time the voyage was, en
he could not do less tn
She consented, and th
performed on their r , (
land. But she
riage wtts to remain #■
secret; for she had co^
relatives of hers and ' jjl
reasons satisfactory. 1 f iK|
should know anyth*"* ^
privately entertain ^ s
Martin. Valentine, oi
no objection thlsa^T
his place to make w ^
necessity of prow-dn*^
for his wife at ^ ..
seriously hampered .
her relatives I
been already related. *;
jji§ friend prown, §29 ■