Newspaper Page Text
—
BANRER-WATCIIMAN, ATHENS, GEORGIA, MAY 2§, i§8f _
' •
FROM THE DIARY OF INSPECTOR BYRNES.
By JULIAN HAWTHORNE, Author of
“The Great Bank Robbery," “An
American Penman," Eta
[Copyright byO M. Dunham, and published,
through special arrangement by the American
Press Association with Cassell & Ca. New York
sod London.)
CHAPTER XIV.
A POWERFUL. ALLY.
EVERAL da.ys
after this event,
the inspector was
informed that a
lady desired to see
. him. He gave
orders that she be
admitted, and a
young woman
dressed in mourn
ing entered the
room. She was
pale and hand
some. with pow
erful dark eyes
The inspector rose
and placed a chair
for her. She sat
down, regarding him with great intent-
ness, as if endeavoring to satisfy herself
what manner of man he w as.
“Can I be of any assistance to you,
tnadam?” the detective inquired.
“I hope you may,” was her reply, “for
I don’t know where to look for help, un
less to you. You were officially cogni
zant, were you not, of the case of Mr.
Percy Nolen, who was accused of a rob
bery a few weeks ago?”
The inspector inclined his head. “It
came to my knowledge in the ordinary
routine,” lie said. “It has been ad
journed. as you are probably aware, and
the chances are that it will not soon be
beard of again.”
“Percy Nolen was my brother,” she
resumed.
“He was lost at sea.” Her
lips trembled, but 6he recovered herself
-Abe inspector noted that she seemed to
possess unusual self command—and went
on. “My mother and I are the only ones
of the family left alive; and my mother
is an invalid. My brother died with a
shadow upon his name, and I consider
it my duty to remove it. I am sure that
it can be done; and I am ready to make
any effort or sacrifice to do it. Nothing
would be a sacrifice that would accom
plish that result.”
“I’m afraid you will find it no easy
matter. Miss Nolen. Speaking as a pro
fessional man, I must say that the pros
pect is not a hopeful one.”
“I don't expect it to be easy; but I am
determined to succeed, and 1 mean to
give all my life and energy to it,” said
she, in the same quiet tone which she
bad used from the first, but with im
mense underlying earnestness. “Of
course, I know nothing about the ways
of finding out criminals, and I don't
think that, in an ordinary matter, I
should make a good detective; but this is
a thing 1 care so much about that it’s
different. 1 believe that if the man who
stole that money was to pass me on the
Street 1 should feel that it was he.”
The inspector dropped his pencil and
stooped to pick it up. The notion of
identifying criminals by emotional intu
ition was not without its humorous side;
but he did not wish liis smile to be seen;
and by the time he liad recovered his
pencil he had recovered his gravity like
wise. “Even if you were able to recog
nize him in that way, Miss Nolen,” be
remarked, “there would be no evidence
in that to fasten the crime upon him.
The jury might think you were mis
taken, and would refuse to convict; In
fact, I don’t think you could persuade
any judge on the bench to grant you a
warrant.”
vl wasn’t thinking of putting it on
that ground,” Pauline replied, coloring a
little. “But when I have convinced my
self that I know th0’*man, I would find
evidence against, him that would con
vince the world too. Only let me know
him first, and the rest would be easy.”
“Well, all I can say is, I hope you’ll
find him.”
“1 should not have come here to waste
your time merely by telling you this,”
she continued, looking up at him firmly.
“1 wish to tell you something that may
Indicate who he is, and then you will be
able, perhaps, to help me find out where
he is and what his record is. I don’t
suppose you know that Percy was not
my only brother?”
The detective intimated that he did
not.
“My other brother’s name was Jerrold.
He died a few years ago. They had rea
son to think that his death was hastened
by foul means. The man whom he ac
cused of it was tried; the case was ap
pealed several times, but at last, after
having been confined for over a year, the
accused was acquitted. He said that he
would be revenged upon us. Why may
he not have taken this way to be re
venged?”
The inspected began to be interested.
“What was his name?” he asked.
“His name was Horace Dupee. Be
was a medical student.”
“Tell me the circumstances. I may
recollect something of it.”
“When my brother Jerrold left college
he decided to be a physician, and he be
gan the study of medicine here in New
York. He attended lectures and went to
the hospitals. He was fond of fun and a
favorite with his fellow students, and I
suppose he was rather imprudent in his
habits. He was good natured and excit
able and the others led him on.
“The way the end came was this:
There was a supper given to one of the
students who had got through his course.
He was the Horace Dupee I spoke of.
He was - a clever man, I believe. I never
saw him, and lie and Jerrold were great
friends. There were ten or twelve other
young men at the supper. They drank
a good deal of wine and became noisy
£P.d excited. They began to play practi
cal jokes on one another. At last Hor
ace Dupee got up to make a speech. My
brother, who sat near him, kept inter
rupting him with jokes and laughing.
He got angry finally—Dupee did—ahd
made some threat or'Baid some insulting
thing. My brother instantly threw a
glass of wane in His face, glass and alL
“Dupee rushed at him and struck him
with his fist. They began to fight; but
my brother was the stronger, and he
struck Dupee in the face, 6o that "he fell
over a chair. Then the others separated
them; and my brother, after a moment,
forgot his anger, and wanted to make
friends with Dupee again, but Dupee
would not for a while,-but the others
urged him, until at last he laughed and
came and shook hands,with. my brother,
and pretended that he was quite recon
ciled; but he said afterwards to one of
the young men that he ‘would be even
with Nolen yet*’
“They had been on the point of break
ing up, but after this they got to drink
ing and talking again; and Dupee came
and sat down by my brother, and kept
filling his glass for him, but only pre
tending to drink himself, until my
brother got quite' intoxicated and acted
foolishly. It was then after midnight,
and the young- men began to go home,
and Dupee said he would see my brother
to his lodgings. My father and mother
and myself were not in New York just
then; wo had gone down to a southern
watering place on account of my mother
being delicate, and Jerrold was staying
in furnished rooms in a boarding house.
“He and Dupee started off together
after leaving the others. My brother
could walk, but he was not fit to take
care of himself. The boarding house
was on West Twenty-third street, some
way down. The door had a covered
porch to it and was nearly on a level
with the sidewalk. It was a winter
night, but there was no snow on the
ground.
“It was not quite 1 o’clock in the morn
Ing when they l|ft the restaurant to
gether. At 2 o'clock the policeman whose
beat was on that part of Twenty-third
street saw some one lying in the porch
of the boarding house. He examined
and found that he was in evening dress,
with an overcoat on; he was insensible
and his pockets were empty. There did
not seem to be any mark of violence on
him. The policeman thought he was in
sensible from drink. He knocked up
the people in the house, and when he
found that my brother lived there helped
to take him up to his room. But there
was a physician living in the house, and
he came and looked at my brother and
saw there was something wrong. At
last he found a bruise ou his head, be
hind the ear, made with some blunt in
strument, for the skin was not cut, but
it had produced concussion of the brain.
Towards dawn lie partly recovered con
sciousness, and when he was asked about
his injuries lie mumbled something about
Dupee; but they could not get anything
definite from him. A telegram was sent
to us at Old Point Comfort, where we
were stopping. My mother was too ill
to move; I stayed with her, and my father
went on at once, but he arrived too late.
My brother”
Her voice faltered, and she broke off.
The story had been told with entire sim
plicity, but with intense vividness and
earnestness. The scenes which she de
scribed seemed to be before her as she
spoke, and the emotion which she had
striven to repress broke forth at last in a
few quick sobs. She soon controlled
herself and added, “My father had an
inquest Held; the young men who had
been present at the supper were called
upon to testify, and they told of the
quarrel and the apparent reconciliation,
and it was shown that Horace Dupee was
the last person seen with my brother.
In his examination Dupee said that he
had taken him home and left him in his
doorway, bidding him good night; and
that, though my brother had seemed not -
quite himself, yet he was able to take care
of himself. He denied any knowledge of
the blow. But it was proved that he
had threatened my brother; and it was
thought that he might have emptied my
brother’s pockets only to make it appear
that the murder was the work of some
common thief. So the coroner held him
i<x trial.”
“I remember the case now,” pnt in the
inspector. “The case was pushed against
him vigorously, but it broke down at
last for want of conclusive evidence, and
Dupee was discharged, as you say, after
having been kept in jail for a year.
Well, I must 6ay, Miss Nolen, that the
doubt as to hi^guilt is a reasonable one;
and supposing him to have been inno
cent, he has certainly received hard treat
ment; for such an accusation as th&t,
though not proved, is enough to ruin a
man’s career.”
“I do not believe he was innocent, In
spector Byrnes! I am sure that he was
guilty, and, having escaped punishment
for that, he means to do us more injifry
still. No—an innocent man would not
have been ruined by an unjust accusa
tion! It would have stimulated him to
prove by his after life that he had been
wronged.”
“Do you know what his subsequent
life has been?” inquired the inspector.
“I have heard enough to know that it
has been what I should have expected it
to be. He has associated with low and
dishonest people; he has gone under dif
ferent names, and it is probable that he
may have been arreste^ more than once
for other crimes. I have always felt that
he was our enemy, and have expected
that something like this would happen.
I am the only one of us left to fight him,
Insjiector Byrnes. He killed my eldest
brother; he was the means of bringing
about the disgrace and death of Percy;
my father died of disappointment add
grief; my mother is a broken down in
valid. But I am strong and well, and I
am determined to bring him to justice!
Will you help; use?” . : . •
Her eyes ‘darkened and her cheeks
flushed as she put the question. The in
spector, though lie could not but per
ceive that the chances were against the
correctness of her theory, was touched
by her earnestness.
“In what way would you expect me
to assist you?" he inquired.
“You^can communicate with the po
lice ih all parts ortno country," sne an
swered, “and you know, or can find out.
the history of all the criminals who have
been arrested in New York and in many
other places. What I ask you to do is to
trace the record of Horace Dupee from
the time he left the jail on the termina
tion of his trial till now. Find out his
associates, and make them give evidence
against him; learn what his aliases have
been, and whether he was uot in New
York on the day that Mjrs. Tunstall lost
her money. If he was—and i am 6ure
it will turn out so—it will be found that
he had money to spend soon afterwards,
and perhaps some one of the bank notes
can be traced to him. Oh!” she ex
claimed, lifting one hand with an irre
pressible gesture, “if I can see him stand
before me in the prisoner’s dock, I shall
have lived long enough!"
‘Upon my word, Miss Nolen," re
marked the Inspector with a smile, “1
wouldn’t envy the man who had done
you an injury, be he who lie may: and
if this fellow Dupee, or any one else, has
been guilty of the crimes you charge him
with I hope with all my heart you may
live to see him convicted of them—and a
long time afterwards, too! As for my
share in the business, 1 can assure you
that all possible investigations shall be
made and, if Dupee has really joined the
criminal classes, it will probably only l>e
a question of time before we run across
him. It is something to liave a definite
person suspected in connection with the
affair. 1 don’t want to give you any
hopes that I cannot fulfill; but I am will
ing to say that it is not impossible some
thing may come out of this.”
“I don’t ask for promises—only .let
something be done!” Pauline replied,
rising and giving her hand to the detect
ive. He felt the strong clasp of her lit
tle fingers, and smiled again.
“You may depend upon my being at
least as good as my word," he said kind
ly. “Your cause is a good one, and, so
far as I am connected with it, you may
be certain that it will not suffer. Hat
you must be prepared for disappoint
ment, and you must bo patient.”
„ . . ish rapidity," the judge, In a few mo
nte nature or his sentiments towar . | mentg had the pleasure of lifting on
but he had been assiduous in ms a * j a fi ne large demijohn, tightly
tions; and only the greatness of the prize
at stake withheld him from putting his
fate to the touch at once.
They arrived about the middle of June.
The cottage had previously been put in
order for their reception; curtains un
packed and put up; mattings spread on
the floors; hammocks swung in the ve
randas; Venetian blinds fastened
over
CHAPTER XV.
A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA.
T had liocn
the
custom with th
Nolens, durinj
tho summer
months, to go to
a seaside resort
known as Squit-
tig Point, on the
New England
coast. They own
ed a small cot
tage there, con-
sisting of a sit
ting room, three
bedrooms, and a
kitchen and a
eranda, the area
of w h i c li w a s
larger than all the rest of the house.
The house stood upon a low bluff direct
ly overlooking the beach. There was a
semi-circular inlet at this point, about
fifty yards across; in this a pier had been
constructed, to the end of which a cat-
boat was moored.
It was a pretty place,, but a very quiet
one. To reach it it was necessary to
drive live or six miles from the railway
station in the neighboring town. With
in a radius of a mile there were perhaps
a dozen cottages similar to the Nolens*
and occupied chiefly by artists. Milk,
eggs, poultry, and vegetables were fur
nished by the farm houses in the vicinity:
fish could be caught by any one with a
fishing line and a boat; meat Und gro
ceries must be fetched from the town
It was out of the line of fashionable
travel; and those who knew of its cxis
tence, and had established themselves
there, were united in a conspiracy to
keep fashion away from it. If they
themselves felt the need of a little dissi
pation, they could be at Newport in four
or five hours or at Swampscott before
night. But here they could always be
sure of rest, seclusion, charming scenery
and as much fishing, sailing and bathing
os they wanted. Of course they could
not hope to keep their secret long; soon
er or later somebody would appear and
build a hotel; but meanwhile they en
joyed it all the more for feeling that
their exclusive possession of it must be
limited.
Opposite the point .was a line of low
islands, seven or eight miles distant,
which served as a natural breakwater
against the' violence of the Atlantic’s
waves, and gave to the intervening ex
panse of water the advantages of a bay.
They were also a charm and attractioi
in themselves; for they were constantly
undergoing the most surprising changes
under the influence of the mirage; and,
being within an easy sail, were often
visited for picnicking purposes by the
sojourners in the cottages. Baskets of
provisions were carried over, and the
materials for a clambake or a chowder
were always obtainable from the sands
and the sea. The time not occupied in
cooking and eating could be devoted to
picking huckleberries, practicing with
the rifle or shotgun, or, if the age and
circumstances of the members of the
party permitt - *!, in quiet flirtations along
the beaches or in the woods. The sail
home was made by the red light of sun
set or by the white luster of the moon.
The winter and spring had pass
away without any news having been ob
tained concerning Horace Dtipee; if he
had really been in New York at the time
of the perpetration of the robbery he
had entirely disappeared. The only thing
to be done was to wait patiently until he
came back again, keeping a bright but
undemonstrative lookout for him in the
meanwhile. As Inspector Byrnes had
the matter in charge, it was not neces
sary that Pauline should remain in New
York; she could be communicated with
at any time, and it plight even hasten the
result she desired if she were known to
be out of the city. Accordingly, as sum
mer approached, and her mother’s health
manifestly demanded a change, prepara
tions were made to go down to Squittig
Point. Judge Ketelie, for reasons which
the reader will perhaps comprehend, ar
ranged to accompany them. He had not
as yet mado any avowal to Pauline of
the windows. The catboat had been
routed out of her winter quarters in the
barn, a new coat of point had been given
her, new sheets - and halliards rove, and
her shrunken seams had been soaked till
they were water tight. There she rested
at her moorings as gracefully as a sea
gulL Every thing being ready, the
party, convoyed by the judge, drove out
from the town one fine day and took
possession. It was sunset by the time
the last trunk was moved in. They had
supper, and then sat out on the veranda
enjoying the pure salt air and the liquid
outlook over the bay. There was a faint
breeze; little waves made a barely audi
ble plash on the shore of the cove. The
boat courtesied gently off the end of the
pier, as if welcoming its owners back to
nature. The moon rose late and red; it
was past the fall. To the right, beyond
the point, the lighthouse lamp flashed
intermittently; a sloop drifted past half a
mile out, and the sound of a banjo-
tinkled audibly across the water.
It's delicious!" murmured the judge,
sitting with Mrs. Nolen on one side of
Mm and Pauline on the other, and a
cigar between bis lips. “To-morrow
we’ll go out in the boat and visit the
island.”
Mrs. Nolen gave a sigh. She was
thinking of her son drowned at sea.
Pauline understood what the sigh
meant; but 6he was made of other metal
than her mother. “I mean to learn how
to sail the boat myself this summer,” she
said. “I like the sea; I would like to
live (beside it, or on it, always, llow
soft and gentle it is nowl But when
thojstorms come 1”
“I can give you lessons in sailing,” ob-
jrrved the judge. “You know, wben I
ras a boy I spent a year before the
mast.” *•
I learned something last year from
Percy,” Pauline replied, “and, now that,
ho has become a part of the sea, I shall
feel more at home on it than before.”
The next day, accordingly, the prac
tice of navigation began, and was con
tinued day by day thereafter. Pauline
showed herself an apt pupil, and was, in
deed, quicker in an emergency than the
judge himself. Mrs. Nolen at first could
not bo prevailed on to accompany them;
but one warm day they induced her to
venture out, and the experience was so
pleasant that she repeated it from time to
time.
Meanwhile the judge’s affair was man
ifestly approaching a crisis. The con
stant companionship of the girl he loved
was inexpressibly sweet to him, and he
was unable to repress some manifesta
tion of it; yet he could not decide
whether or not Pauline cared enough
about him to accept him as her husband.
That 6ho esteemed him highly was evi
dent, and that Iter affection for him was
deep and sincere; but there are many
kinds of affection, and the question was
whether her affection was of a kind ca
pable of being developed into the love of
a wife. The judge wished with all his
heart that he could do her some immense
service, or make for her some noble sac
rifice which might 6erve to draw her
nearer to him. But such things cannot
be commanded at will, and seldom occur
when they are waited. It seemed that
he must trust to whatever unaided merit
he iassessed to win her heart
Pauline had always been mature for
her age: but since the calamity that had
fallen upon her she had developed
greatly. She was graver and more taci
turn than before, and her manner was
more thoughtful and controlled. She
seemed already to have outgrown her
girlhood and to liave attained the strength
and experience of a woman. All this
was in the judge’s favor; for his age was
the factor in the matter which he feared
most. If they could meet on more nearly
equal terms in this respect, he could fed
more confidence as to the rest. She con
versed with him on his own intellectual
level, and consulted him freely and con
fidentially on all matters of interest to
herself. No friendship between a man
and woman could liave been more inti
mate and genuine; but it was something
more than friendship that the judge
longed for; if he could have detected a
single glow of passion in her cheeks he
corked, which had been hooked by the
handle.
After the laugh had subsided the judge
suggested that the demijohn might con
tain something, and he knocked off the
*•; against the gunwale of the boat.
About a pint of salt water came out and
then a fragment of wood—apparently
part of the lid of a cigar box, on which
something had been written with a pen
cil. The writing was almost obliterated,
but two or three words, or portions of
words, still remained.
“See if you can make them out, Pau
line,” said the judge, after scrutinizing
I dl . d not k "ow whethp,,^
sorry that 1 was the
that strange message ^ v ° f
judge, when they were *3
“And yet I could not hr|?L°>
there must have been 8onL h,t H
design in the matter n .
had appointed me his * **»
“Oh, lain glad—1
joined Pauline musingly
downcast “It puts wyW h|| <*i
All this time 1 could n 0 tS*»‘i
C0u rse .
was gone. 1 knew
it. of
“Your
the inscription a few moments,
eyes are better than mine.”
Holding the tiller in her left hand
Pauline took the bit of wood in her right
and looked at it “I can make out part
of a name,” she said presently, “and
some figures—a date, I suppose. All!''
Her lips closed tightly and her eyes
dilated. The boat swung round into the
wind, and lay with the sail flapping. She
had forgotten the tiller.
“What is it?” asked the judge in sur
prise.
She met his eyes, and then glanced
stealthily toward her toother.
Nothing.” 6aid she; and put the helm
over again. The boat resumed its course,
the water bubbling under the stern. Mrs.
Nolen gazing toward the island, which
was now near at hand, had noticed noth
ing.
After a moment, she leaned toward
him and whispered in his ear: “It is the
name of the steamer in which Percy
sailed, and the date of the hurricane.
Some one must have thrown it over
board in the storm—perhaps it is his
own writing. Say nothing; mother must
not know.”
She thrust the bit of wood into the
front of her dress, while the judge drew
back with a grave, concerned face and
folded his arms in silence. It was a
strange event, indeed. That demijohn
had been drifting about on the ocean
currents for months, to be brought, at
last, to the very hand for which it liad
been perhaps intended. Paulino did net
doubt that Percy had thrown it over
board at the moment when all hope
seemed gone, and probably just before
he himself was swept from the deck
and if so it must have been to her that
he liad in his heart addressed it.
The incident brought the picture of
the disaster vividly before her imagina
tion; she liad never realized it so in
tensely before-sthe plunging hull, the
reeling decks, the shattered masts, the
white leaps and scetliing of the TUad-
dened seas, the deafening shriek of the
gale, the black darkness around and
overhead; and her brother, her own be
loved brother, staggering forth into this
blind fury of chaos to waft to her the
last message of despair. She saw it all;
and then, with a long indrawing-of the
breath, her eyes beheld the blue surface
of the summer sea, the warm and tender
sky bending over it, tho-green shore of
the island toward which they were softly
gliding. Her heart melted, and tears
wet her cheeks unawares,
“I am really glad I came,” said Mrs.
Nolen, turning round with a smile. “It
has been a delightful sail, and the island
looks so pretty! I hope it will be as nice
going back.” .
“Well begun is half ended,” said the
judge, raising the centerboard as the
boat entered an inlet and ran up on the
beach; “and, if the worst conies to the
worst, we liave provisions enough to stay
here over night.”
had not been brought
I can feel that all i 3 well^
am glad it came." ’* Wlt h Ity
It seems a pity that so
message should U* ilWiM** '-"|
the judge. “Itwouldh ' %
know for a certaintv n,« " H
certainty that it*
Percy s own hand.’’ 1
“Perhaps it will bocomo
when the wood is dried,
not care if it turned outJ,'S
written by some one ^ SS
Percy’s ship-the Amazon-,
case it is from him."
I am a little surprised" „•>
judge, after a pause, “that ’utT
has not written us some of the, 7
the affair. He can hardly ha Ve r
understand that any informal
ever slight, would have U*„
you. You have not heard Z* 1
have you?” ^
‘No, and I think you are
would have been a much happier man
On the other hand, Pauline was quite
able to wil her feelings; and no young
woman of healthy mind can be expected
to show what emotion may be in her,
or even to acknowledge it to herself,
until she has been fairly challenged.
At length, having become quite accus
tomed to the management of the boat,
they decided to make the trip to the island.
The lunch basket was packed and stowed
amidships; fish lines and hooks were
placed in the locker, in case they should
come across a school of bluefish; cush
ions and wraps were provided for Mrs.
Nolen, and extra ballast was put into the
hold, in order to keep her steady in case
the wind should increase. An early
start was made, for the breeze was so
light as scarcely to ruffle the water, and
set nearly in a direction opposite to that
which they wished to go. In order to
get out of the little cove it was necessary
to use the oars; but after that the wind
gently swelled the sail, and, proceeding
by long tacks, they slowly made their
way toward the island that seemed to
quiver and waver in the heat on the ho
rizon.
About 11 o’clock the breeze freshened
a li.tle, and the boat slipped more
swiftly, but Btill with an even, gliding
motion, through the water. The judge,
who fancied lie detected signs of blue-
Jish, now relinquished the helm to Pau
line, and got out liis lines. The squid
was thrown out astern, and cut a tiny
wake' through the waves, while the
judge, with his finger on the line, watch
ed it like a hawk. For an hour, in spite
of several false alarms, nothing was
caught, but finally there was an unmis
takable tusr* and. hauling in with feyer-
CHAPTER XVI.
A STRANGE WOOING.
HE judge pulled
off liis shoes and
stock ings and
jumped into the
shallow water,
and, tugging
manfully, pulled
the boat up high
enough to render
■ it an easy matter
.to transport the
'ladies to the
'shore. Mrs. No-
& len he took in his
arms and set
down on the
beach; then he
turned to do the like service for Pauline,
and his heart beat at the thought of
having her for a moment so near liirn.
But as she stood poising herself in the*
bows, light, beautiful and agile, he per
ceived that she meant to make a leap of
it, and, indeed, the distance was probar
bly not beyond her powers. She glanced
at him at that juncture, and could not
have failed to notice the sudden faltering
of his expression from its previous joy
ful expectation; she hesitated, and then,
with a faint blush, held out her arms,
RAVinff* * 4 After oil nnrViono vtaii W.
why he has not It was liuT^j
that Percy should leave N ew yT
urged him to go with him: he ti
responsibility. The least ho could 4
to guard him from harm. \\\
storm came he should not have | ■
go out of his sight. BuU n#te J
him lie drowned. I can umlers^’
ho lias uot written to me—he
dare!" ^
She said this with a passiona,,
phasia. The judge was secretli
scious of a feeling of relief, but liis,
of rectitude compelled him to
would not be just, 1 think, tochZ
Martin with being accountable^
cy’s death.”
“Perhaps it is not logically b
that is the way I feel,” was Iter ret*
By this time they had rod*
spring, which trickled outofamjj
a few feet above high water uari
filled a barrel that had been sunkij
sand below. The judge knelt doij
plunged the jug into the cool (
which gurgled into it with a refra
sound. Pauline stood, with tier h
• hanging folded, looking down a
The bl ue sea, the sunshine the
were inexpressibly soothing.
“How pleasant it is here,” btasjj
The judge rose, .with the jugs
hand. A moment before be W
meant to speak so 6oon; but w
words seemed to break from
untarily.
“Pauline, will you be my wife!"la
She took a step backward,
eyes met. She was startled, aiultk
pression of her face at first km
indicate refusal. But after a few
ments the softer look returned
mingled with sadness.
“Would that be best?” she asked
“Infinitely best for.me. Jlutiti
who must decide. T have loved ja
since you were a little girl.”
“Does my mother know of thisT
“Yes, since last year; and she
den me Godspeed. But 1 do wt
you to be influenced by that,
for yourself alone. 1 am twin
years, and more; but in my love fa
I am young, and shall always be’
She stood silent for a while, f
evidently touched by his words,
the manly generosity of hisaM
something was yet wanting tom
final conviction to her heart, b|
was too true to herself to commit
without it.
“There is no man living fur
care so much as for you," {to
length; “but I have never find
caring for you in that way. 1 13
pended oil you and trusted inf
to be your wife. . . • dtoj® 1
give me tiniel I do not kno*
think, or feel. But 1 shall d
doubt—I will give you an
It seems to mo that if 1 could
as you wish it would be a for
for me—fortunate that a man
should wish to marry such a
am. But give me till to-inorw*
“As long as you need," an**'
judge, huskily. “It is my duty
happiness to wait for you and
os long as I live."
The breeze fell again during
saying: “After all, perhaps you had bet
ter take me."
_ The judge could not speak; the revul
sion was too sudden. She had never be
fore done anything which seemed so sig
nificant, and as he received her on his
6turdy shoulder he experienced a happi
ness more poignant than he had ever
known. The action lasted but for an in
stant, but the effect was by no means so
transient; on the contrary, it kept glow
ing and increasing in his soul, and quite
illuminated his' whole aspect. Pauline,
too, was in an unusual mood; she seemed
softer and more accessible than was
usual with her. The tears which she
had lately shed had brought all the
woman in her to the surface. There
were tones in her voice that thrilled to
the judge’s heart like exquisite music.
The memory of her brother had done
her lover good service.
A spot was selected under the shade
of a cedar, with clean white sand under
neath. Here Mrs. Nolan was established
with her cushions, and the cloth was
spread for lunch. The basket was un
packed, the plates and knives and forks
arranged, and the good things set out.
They had brought a jug of water, but it
had become so warm as to be unpalat
able; so the judge proposed that they
should go and find a spring; there was
sure to be one not far off. Pauline
assented and they started, leaving Mrs.
Nolan beneath th® cedar.
noon, and they delayed their i
expectation of a change tot I
result justified their fc ““
moon appeared above tl
the clouds began to gather
and the tops of thetrees wa
mured. The direction of tee
such that, after leaving the
could make a nearly stra jLji
home, keeping the boom
quarter. In setting out a lo s
land extending on the w u
the sweep of the wind, an
much fighter than it
water was smooth ana m
sufficient to makethem * *#]
idly. But the moment tne rj
cape was passed the
the violence of the win J
them. The judge, whoj^jj
made the mistake of ® u ^j] i d
was a gust or temporary*!. f
therefore did not P* 1 *
smooth water and dou
as he should have don&j*
By thetimehehaddiaco
wind had come to stay. j
on their course to nu»ke >
able. To have done to ^
▼olved beating up almo« ,
the gale, which worn
been a long job, but on-
of the waves would ha
geroua To keep on* ® ^ I
seemed comparator nt , 0 ^
being nearly fair, ye* ® j,bkj
to involve the perd
tance, moreover, w** «
the boat, though
going fast AcejJJ;
graspod the tiller gjJJ.
headed so aa to pa* * •
couple point® to th