The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, September 24, 1899, Page 28

THE SUNDAY CALL. —_— Copyrighted. Rufus Coleman, Sunday editor most learned fully convinced that Cole- club and drowrs who has distingulshed in turn is him- from the Eclipse to as- as their position had v toward Nikopolis. \& Coleman and his drago- ¢ massacre by elther Greek or to safety falls on Cole- of all they meet professor and Coke sulks and will not K and is asked by her to [Continued.] finement which decor- ng themsel in fair condition 1 much thought going to have t drivers spoke ities improved ngement of netly in regard : at least only of them picion upon himse yne_in the fie > basis with the he could cope > wild pack af soned that hi; best attitude lips mouth the that straight larice-handle which Coleman— 1 sed with his dragom. He was fixing in_his mind a pc snake and his first dead Turk. gan a circuit of the Gulf of Ar: The journey develc 2 road, which half-circled the waist lost in the rumble of wheels and in dier leading a prisoner by a who_seemed T And people looked at them with tle town from which Coleman found crowds in the They passed a little s d journey, they laughter, any confidence, fon seemed to have been kna sed talking. had come upon them since h zer approved of foreigners. hich had tra e t of the visible Gre 8 But stiil they t it in two blows. noticed that the most for a moment to blame them: ute the defeats to mere numbers and skill, th n it upon something near enough at hand for the ved that the dragoman, all his former plumage gone, ng as he argued to a dark-browed crowd that was "he groom, who always had been a mirac- 2 v launched forth garrulously. The drivers from their high seats palavered like madmen, driving with one hand and the other, explaining evidently their own great innocence. Coleman saw that there was troubie, but he only sat more stiffly in The eternal gabble moved him to despise the situation. any Tate, the travelers would soon be out of this town and on te a more hining and snivel ning beside the cavalc laconic man, was sudden gesturing wit owever, he saw the driver of the first carriage suddenl: @ little blackened coffee shop and inn. The dra,g‘(fmln Hpilrl"‘r}; an wild expostulation. ull up before The second carri: lled cl log‘v;lnr\a m)':d s age pulled close behin: er. The crowd, murmuring like & Roman mobvin Nero’s time, clo:e:i aholl by Hose el ed his horse coolly through to the dragoman’ 2 he demanded, The dragoman was broken valosd. Thest all Germans, and they are angr: around them. you are Germans, can Ao nossin Well, tell these men to sald Coleman, ‘“tell them they must will not drive on,” can do nossing. They say here i d they will note dr ake them dri e (hey will note, 4 the dragoman still more loudly. place for feed the horse. It is the cus- shrieked the agonized servitor. Coleman looked from the men waving their arms and chattering on the box-seats to the men of the crowd who also waved their arms and chat- In this throng far to the rear of the fighting armies there did not not able-bodied, who had not been free of that scurvy behind-the-rear-guard te to its worth. The man- ving at home this rabble of s for mere pretension. He thought them a lot of infants trage upon eleven innocent travelers, he was quick to see a seem to be a single man who w i nation has in deg d of Greece had gone to the frontler, , most of whom were armed with ri lcathed them to the end of like to prove all but unarmed, and in this f: v One could deal v clpless people; fighting blood of the cc - the privilege to run amu ainwrights kept ale as a dead man. him, hysterically beseechin; what he was to do she could not have even imagined. Coleman took the dilemma by its beard. He dismounted from his horse into the depths of the crowd and addressed the Wainwrights. o into this place and have some coffee while the men feed 3 here is no use in trying to make them go on.” v looked at him in glazed horror. This crowd is not nearly so bad as they think got to look as if we felt confident.” buzz in_his ears, but he felt certain that the onl move was to get everybody as quickly as possible within the & It might not be much of a shelter for them, but it was better than the carriages in the street. The professor and Mrs. Walnwri, carriage as a castle, and they looke physically Incapable’ of leaving it. the clapper-tongued crowd was moving ominously. gtepped calmly reat danger to ; soldidrs wnuldghn\'a pondent began to boil and he rea k through t'Ir‘];: multitude. e e professor had ti d He sat very stiff and still while his wife c]u\rllg'netn him to do something, do something, although him in his senses, we had better’ His manner “It {8 the only He himself had no confidence casual, but they ht seemed to be consids as if thelr terror s had made them Coleman etood walting. Behind him Marfory arose and It was as if she had sald: don’t think there is great danger, but if there is great danger, why here I am * * ready * admitted everything. lown to him, to the end of every nerve. It conceded everythin, It was surrender without a blush and EPHEN CRANE. 7) was only possible in the shadow of the crisis when they did not know what the next moments might contain for them. As he took h her hand and e stepped past him he whispered !Wlflli; and fiercely in her e “I love you.” She did not look up, but he felt that in this quick incident they- had claimed each oth accepted each other with a far deeper meaning and understanding than could be possible in a mere draw- ing room. he laid her hand on his arm, and with the strength of four men he twisted his horse into the making of furious prancing side steps toward the door of the . clanking side-steps which mowed a wide lane through the crowd for Marjory, his Marjory. He was as haughty as a new German lieutenant, and although he held the fuming horse with only his left hand he ned per! capable of hurling the animal over a house without calling into service the arm which was devoted to Marjory. It was not an exhibitict: of cooline: ch as wins applause on the stage when the hero placidly lights a cigarette before the mob which is clamor- ing for his death. It Wi, (n the contrary, an exhibtion of downright classic disdain, iain which with the highest arrogance declared itself in every glance of his eve into the faces about him. ‘‘Very good * * attack me if you like * * the is nothing to prevent it * * you mongrels.” Very Step of his progress was made a renewed Insult to them. The very a was charged with what this lone man was thinking of this threatening crow ¥ audacity was invincible. They actually made way for it as quickly 'n could flee from a ghost. The horse dancing with ringing steps, Fith his glistening neck arched toward the iron hand at his bit, this power- ful quivering animal was a regular engine of destruction, and they gave room until Coleman halted him at an exclamation from Marjory. “My mother and father.” But they were coming close behind and Coleman Tesumed this contemptuous journey to the door of the inn. The groom, With his newborn tongue, was clattering there to the populace. Coleman i as child he recognized that Mrs. questions upon him. As for Marjory, she had said nothing until the time when she cried: She fairly dragged him out of one room into another was a jug of water. wounds. How they must hurt you.” it {en’t anything.” almost choked In the joy of Marjory’s ministry and her exclamations. 1d was reddening_her handkerchief with his blood, and no word of his couo‘_ ha\dre prevented her-from thus attending him. He could hear the professor an vainwright had tumbled the largest number of Oh, come, quick! room, where there handkerchief and soffly smote his “Bruises. Oh, dear! stafned cFimson. “‘Oh—he is bleeding—he is bleeding. She wet her “Bruises,”” she said, piteously, tearfully. The handkerchief was soon all When Coleman spoke his volce quavered. “It isn’t anything Bl e had not known of these wonderful wounds, but ©0 This proud and beautiful girl, this superlative creaturt, Mrs. Wainwright fussing near him_ trying to be of use. He wou have liked to have been able to order them out of the room. Ma.rlflfr}: cool fingers on his face and neck had conjured within him a vision n‘ ild intimacy that was even sweeter than anything which he had imag fifah’ and he longed to pour out to her the bubbling, impassioned speech WhiCt et his lips. But. aiways dodgering beblnd him, were the two o people, strenuous to be of help to him. itod uddenly a_door opened and a ‘youth appeared, simply red with Dg s It was Peter Tounley. His first remark was cheerful. ‘‘Wwell, I don't sup pose those people will be any too quick to look for more trouble. e Coleman felt a swift pang because he had forgotten to announcsM e dilapidated state of all the students. He had been so submerged by Mars ory's tenderness that all else had been drowned from his mind. His geu i Tent lqumkly as he waited for Marjory to leave him and rush to Pete ‘ounley. But she did nothing of the sort. “Oh, Peter,” she cried in distress, ‘:‘nfl then she turned back to Coleman. It was the professor and Mrs. Waln- wright who, at last finding a fleld for their kindly ambitions, flung them- selves upon Tounley and carried him off to another place. Peter was removed, crying: “Oh, now look here, professor, I'm not dying or any- thing of that sort—"" ‘Coleman and Marjory were left alone. He suddenly and forcibly took one of her hands and the blood-stained handkerchief dropped to the floor. CHAPTER XXIIL From below they could hear the thunder of weapons and fists upon the door of the inn amid a great clamor of tongues. Sometimes there arose the arzumentative howl of the innkeeper. Above this roar Coleman's quick words sounded in Marjory’s ear. “I've got to go. I've got to g0 back to the boys, but—I love you.” “Yes, go, go,” she whispered hastily. “You should be there, but— “But you are mine, remember,” he said come back." He held her clpse to him. 1 flercely and sternly. ‘“You are mine—forever—as I am yours—remember.” Her eves half closed. She made intensely solemn answer. “Yes.” He released her and was gone. In the glooming coffee room of the inn he found the students, the drago- man, the groom and the innkeeper armed with a motley collection of weapons wrkich ranged from the rifle of the innkeeper to the table leg in the hands of Peter Tounley. The last named young student of archaeology was in a position of temporary leadership and holding a great pow-wow with the innkeeper through thé medium of piercing outcries by the drago- man. Coleman had not vet understood why none of them had been neither stabbed or shot in the fight in the street, but it seemed to him now that affaits were leading toward a crisis of tragedy. He thought of the possi- bilities of having the dragoman go to an upper window and harangue the people, but he saw no chance of success in such a plan. He saw that the crowd would merely howl at the dragoman while the dragoman howled at the crowd. He then asked {f there was any other exit from the inn by which they could secretly escape. He learned that the door into the coffee room was the only door which pierced the four great walls. All he could then do was to find out fgrom the innkeeper how much of a v “Suddenly he whipped a rifle out of the hands of a man and swung it, whistling.” nd passed after the Wainwrights into the public room s smiling. What simpletons. iddeniy appeared in the person of the keeper of the inn. and a prodigious belt of cartridges, but it was plain at once that he had elected to be a friend of the worried travel A large part of the crowd were thinking it necessary to enter the inn and pow-wow more. But the innkeeper stayed at the door with the dragoman and together they vociferou held back the tide. The spirit of the mob had subsided to a more reasonable feeling. They no longer wished to tear the strangers limb from limb on ths suspicion that they were Germans. They now were frantic to talk as if some inexorable law had kept them silent for ten rs and this was the very moment of their release. Where their simultaneous and interpolating orations had throughout made noise much like a _coal-breaker. Coleman had led the Wainwrights to a table in a far part of the room. took chairs as if he had commanded them. ‘“What an outrage,” he said jubilantly. *“The ap He was keeping more than half an eye upon the door, because he knew that the quick coming of the students was 1m- portant Then suddenly the storm broke in wrath. Something had happened in the street. The jabbering crowd at the door had turned and were hurrying upon some central tumuit. The dragoman screamed to Colem R jumped and grabbed the dragoman. lell this man to tak where upstairs,” he cried, indicating the Wainwrights with his arm. The innkeeper seemed to understand sooner than th and he nodded eagerly. he professor was crying: ‘‘What is it man? What is it?”’' An instant later the c street, buffeting toward a scuffle. Of course it was the students. It ap- peared, afterward, that those seven young men, with their feelings much ruffied, had been making the best of their way toward the door of the inn, when a large man in the crowd, during a speech which was surely most offensive, had laid an arresting hand on the shoulder of Peter Toun- ley. Whereupon the excellent Peter Tounley had hit the large man on the jaw In such a swift and skillful manner that the large man had gone splnning through a group of his countrymen to the hard earth, where he lay holding his face together and howling. Instantly, of-course, there had been a riot. It might well be said that even then the affair could have ended in a lot of talking, but In the first place the students did not talk modern Greek, and in the second place they were now past all thought of talking. They regarded this affair serlously as a fight, and now that they at last were in it, they were in it for every pint of blood in their bodles. Such a pack of famished wolyes had never before been let loose upon men armed with Gras rifles. They all had been expecting the row, and when Peter Tounley had found it expedient to knock over the man, they had counted it a signal; their arms immediately began to swing out as if they had been wound up. It was at this time that Coleman swam brutally through the Greeks and joined his countrymen. He was more frightened than any of those nov- ices. When he say Peter Tounley overthrow a dreadful-looking brigand whose belt was full of knives, and who crashed to the ground amid a clang of cartridges, he was appalled by the utter simplicity with which the lads were treating the crisis, It was to them no common scrimmage at ‘Washurst, of course, but it flashed through Coleman’s mind that they had not the slightest senze of the size of the ring. He expected every instant to see the flash of knives or to hear the deafening intonation of a rifle fired against his ear. It seemed to him miraculous that the tragedy was s0 long delayed. In the meantime he was in the affair. He jolted one man under the chin with his elbow in a way that reeled him off from Peter Tounley's back; a little person in checked clothes he smote between the eyes; he received a gun-butt emphatically on the side of the neck; he felt hands tearing at him; he kicked the pins out from under three men in rapid succession. He was always yelling “Try to get to the inn, boys, try to get to the inn. Look out, Pefer. Take care for his knife, Peter—" Sud- denly he whipped a rifle out of the hands of a man and swung it, whist- ling. He had gone stark mad with the others. The boy Billie, drunk from some blows and bleeding, was already stag- gering toward the inn over the clearage which the wild Coleman made with the clubbed rifle. The others followed as well as they might while beating off a discouraged enemy. The remarkable Innkeeper had barred his windows with strong wood shutters. He held the door by the crack for them, and they stumbled one by one through the portal. Coleman did not know why they were not all dead, nor did he understand the intrepid and generous behavior of the innkeeper, but at any rate he felt that the fighting was suspended. and he wanted to ses Marjory. The innkeeper was doing a great pantomime in the middle of the darkened room, point- ing to the outer door and then aiming his rifié at it to explain his inten- tion of defending them at all costs. Some of the students moved to a billiard table and spread themselves wearily upon it. Others sank down where they stood. Outside the crowd was beginning to roar. Coleman’s groom crept out from under the little coffee bar and comically saluted his aster. e dragoman was not present. Coleman felt that he must see arjory, and he made a!{(ns to the innkeeper. The latter understood quickly. ‘and motioned that Coleman should follow him. They passed to- gether through a dark hall and up a darker stairway, whereafter Coleman stepped out into a sun-lit room, saying loudly: “Oh, it's all right. It's all over. Don’t worry.” Three wild people were instantly upon him. *“Oh, what was it? What gave him the horse of the inn. He w A new actor He, too, had a rif aia happen? Is anybody hurt? Oh, tell us, quick!” Tt seemed at the time . that it was an avalanche of three of them, and it was not until later that and to this the innkeeper answered volubly ana with Smiles that this hostelry would easily endure until the mercurial temper of the crowd had darted off in a new direction. It may be curious to note here that all of Peter Tounley’s impassioned communication with siege the place could stand the innkeeper had been deveted 1 endeavor to learn what in the devil was the matter with those Pl a man about to be bittén by poison- ous sna sheuld, first of all, furiously insist upon learning their exact species befora deciding apon eliher his route if he intended to run away or his weapon if he intended to fight them. The innkeeper was evidently co : ¢ the popula at Coleman trusi an occasional one Suddenly there was half a silence on the mob without the door. inconceivable that it could become altogether silent, but it Wwi ; Al stillness of tongues as it was able. Then there w v a single fist and a new voice began to spin Greek, a voice somewhat iike the rattle of pebbles in a tin box. Then a start- called out in Engli you in there, Rufus?” me itom every Knglish speaking person in the room in one s yuse would withstand untably gallant little y fear or suspi- S to the purity of the dragoman’s transiation. tis called Nora Black. “It's all right. We've got an officer with u “‘Open the door,” said Coleman with speed. The little innkeeper labori- ously unfastened the great bers, and when the door finally opened there n the threshold Nora Black with Coke and an officer of infan- N little old companion and Nora's dragoman. ‘““We saw your car- riage in the street,” cried the queen of comic opera as she swept into the room. She was beaming with delight. ‘““What is all the row anyway? 0-0-0h, look at that student’'s nose. Who hit him? And look at Rufus. W Vhat have you boys been doi had stopped the mob from flowing appeared try, N Her little Greek officer of i nt: into the room Coleman looked toward the door at times with some) anx- jety. Nora, noting it, waved her hand in careless reassurance. ‘‘Oh, it's all right. Don’t worry about them any more. He is perfectly devoted to me. He would die there on the threshold if I told him it would please me. Speaks splendid French. I found him limping alorng the road and gave him a life. And now do hurry up and tell me exactly what happened?” They all told what had happened, while Nora and Coke listened agape. Coke, by the way, had quite floated back to his old position with the stu- dents. It had been easy in the stress of excitement and wonder. Nobody had any time to think of the excessively remote incidents of the early morning. All minor interests were lost in the marvel of the present situation. “Who lgndcd you In the eye, Billie?”” asked the awed Coke. “That was said Billie. bad . “Oh, I don't know," ““You really couldn’t tell who hit you, you know. It was a football rush. They had guns and knives, but they édidn’t use 'em. T don’t know why. Jinks! I'm getting pretty stiff. My face feels as if it were made of tin. Did they give you people a row, too?” “No, only talk. That little officer managed them. Outtalked them. I suppose. Hear him buzz, now."” The Wainwrights came downstairs. Nora Black went confldently for- ward to meet them. ‘“You've added one more to vour list of rescuers,” she crizd with her glowing triumphant smile. ‘‘Miss Black of the New York Daylight—at your service. ow in the world do you manage to get vourselvés into such dreadful scrapes? You are the most remarkable people. You need a guardian. Why, you might have beep killed. How exciting it must seem to be regularly of your party.” She Had shaken cor- dially one of Mrs. Wainwright's hands without that lady indicating assent to the proceeding, but Mrs. Wainwright had not felt repulsion. In fact che had had no emotion springing directly from it. Here again the marvel of the situation came to deny Mrs. Wainwright the right to resume a state of mind which had been so painfully interesting to her a few hours earlier. The grof’isor. Coleman and all the students were talking together. Coke had addressed Coleman civilly and Coleman had made a civil reply. Peace was upon them. Nora slipped her arm lovingly through Marjory’s arm. ‘‘That Rufus! Oh, that Rufus’' she cried joyously. *I'll give him £ good scolding as soon as I see him alone. I might have foreseen that he would get you all into trouble. The old stupid!" Marjory did not appear to resent anything. ‘‘Oh, T don't think it was Mr. Coleman’s fault at all,” she answered calmly. “I think it was more the fault of Peter Tounley, poor-voy." “Well, I'd be glad to believe it, T'd be glad to believe it,”” sald Nora. “T want Rufus to keep out of that sort of thing, but he is so hot-headed and foolish.” If she had pointed out her proprietary stamp on Coleman’s cheek she could not have conveyed what s‘;w wanted with more clearness. “Oh,” sald the impassive Marjory, “I don’t think you need have any doubt as to whose fault it was, if there were any of our boys at fault. Mr. Coleman was inside when the fighting commenced, and only ran out to help the boys. He had just brought us safely rlhrnugh the mob, and, far from being hot-headed and_foolish, he was utterly cool in manner, im- pressively cool, I thought. I am glad to be able to reassure you on these points, for I see that they worry you.” % “Yes, they do worry me,” said Nora, densely. “They worry me night and day when he is away from me."” - . “Oh,” responded Marjory, “I have never thought of Mr. Coleman as a man that one would worry about much. We consider him very self-re- liant, able to take care of himself under almost any conditions, but, then, we do not know him at all in the way that you know him. I should think that you would find that he came off rather better than you expected from most of his difficulties. But then, of course, as I sald, you know him so much better t.hn.ni ‘we do.” Her easy indifference was a tac| smissal of Coleman as a topic. : ‘ o Nora, now thoroughly alert, glanced keenly into the other girl's fa but it was inscrutable. %he actress had intended to go careering thr a whole circle of daring illusions to an intimacy with Coleman, but before she had really developed her attack, Marjory, with a fev ventlonal and indifferent sentences, almost expressive of bored made the subject of Coleman impossible. An effect was left upor mind that Marjory had been extremely polite in listening to muc talk about a person in whom she had no interest. The actress was dazed. She did not know how it had all } Where was the head of this thing? And where was l’hv a had mystericusly come qun{.ll her brilliant prospects of see Tar Wainwright suffer, and this fog was the product of a kind of J which she was not familiar. She could not think how to fizh being simply dublous throughout a long pause, she in the end v reat rage. She glared furiously at Marjory, dropped her arm as Burned her and moved down upon Coleman. She must hav at any rate she could make him wriggle. W hen she w: him she called out “Rufus!” In her tone was all the old ir t of ownership. Coleman might have been a D odle. She knew his name in a way that was nothing less than a p blic scandal. ( occasion everybody looked at him and then went Silent, as peop ing the startling denouement of a drama. ‘‘Rufus! he was bar shoulder to show the fleur de lis of the criminal. The students g Coleman’s temper was, if one may be allowed to broken loose inside of him. He could hardly breathe: was about to explode into a thousand fragments. He simply “What?” Almost at once he saw that she had at last goad making a serious tactical mistake. It must be admx[t?di th when the relations between a man and a woman are the relatio lock or at least an intimate resemblance to it, that the man “What?"” to the woman. Mere lovers say "I beg your pardo; I Cupid’s finished/product that spits like a ca Nora Black ‘14.“1 cs like 2 wife and he had answered like a hus| and. For l\l!_(fl\{ ner could not possibly have been worse. He saw the professc him in surprise and alarm, and felt the excitement of the eig These latter were dlabolic’ in the celerity with which they i meanings. It was as plain to them as if Nora Black had sald operty.” my(}"orle‘;nar? would have given his nose to have been able to rec single reverberating word. But he saw that the scene was sp fall for him, and he went still more blind and desperate of it. made him burn to make matters worse. He did not want to im thing at all. “What?’ he demanded, 'what do you want? Nora was_sweetly reproachful. "I left my jacket in the carria. I want you to get it for me.” % “Well, get isl’ for yourself, do you see? Get it for yourse&! N t is plainly to be seen that no one of the people liste: had ever heard a man speak thus to a woman who was not ‘Whenever they had heard that spirited form of repartse it had come the lips of a husband. Coleman’s rude speech was to_their ears a fla Fement of an extraordinary intimacy between Nora Black an ndent. Any other intérpretation w It so palpable that it greatly distre: boldness. F\‘he proge:sur gad 'lijlu.~h(€d4 at the time was the word vulgarity. Nora, Blagk had won a great battle. It was her Agincourt. She h beaten the clever Coleman in a way that had left little of him but However she could have lost it all again if she haa shown her fe elation. At Coleman's rudeness her manner indicated & mixture nesss and embarrassment. Her suffering was so plain to the eye tr Peter Tounley was instantly moved. *“‘Can’t I get your jacket for you, M Black?” he asked hastily, and at her grateful nod he was off at once “oleman was resolved to improve nothing. His overthrow seem him to be so complete that he could not in any way mend it with sacrifice of his dearest prides. He turned away from them all and wal to an isolated corner of the room. He would abide no longer with t He had been made an outcast by Nora Black and he intended to be an outcast. There was no sense in attempting to stem “this extraordinary deluge. It was better to acquiesce. > Then suddenly he was angry at Marjory. : he was angry at Marjory, but he was angry at her nevertheless. o thought of how he could revenge himself upon her. He decided to taks horse with his groom and dragoman and proceed forthwith on the road leaving the jumble as it stood. This would pain Marjory, anyhow, hs hoped. She would feel it deeply, he hoped. 'Acting upon this plan he went to the professor. ‘“Well, of course you are all right now, professor, and if you don’t mind I would like to leave you—go on ahead. I've got a considerable pressure of business on my mind. and I thirk I should hurry on to Athens, if you don’t mind.” Tiie professor did not seem to know what to ‘say. “Of course, if you of cours: e very milkiest word in h to He 1d not exactly ses why wish it—sorry, I'm sure—of course it is as you please—but you have beer such a power in our favor—it seems too bad to lose you—but—if you wish it—if you insist—"" “Oh, yes, I quite insist,”” said Coleman, calml “I quite Insist. Maks core, professor. I insist.” tammered the old mai “Well, it seems a great been such a power in our favor—"" your mind easy on tha “Well, Mr. Coleman pity to lose you—you hav “Oh, you are now only eight hours from the railroad. It is very easy. You would not need my tance, even if it were a benefit.” “But—"' said the professor. Coleman's dragoman came to him then and said: ‘“There i{s one man ou made to take one rifle in the fight and was bre; say he want sunthing for you was break h here who says hur ‘How much does he want?” asked Coleman impatiently. he dragoman wrestled then evidently with a desiré to protect this mine from outs x “I—I think two gold piece plenty.” “Take them,” s eman. It seemed to him preposterous fdiot with a brok ad shouid interpol v ward you and the groom get the three at once.” “For Athens? that this et At once?” said Marjory’s voice in his ear, CHAPTER XXIV. “Oh,” said Coleman, “I was thinking of starting.” “Why?" asked Marj uncon nedly. Coleman shot her a ck glance. “I believe my period of usefulness 18 quite ended,” he said, with just a small betrayal of bitter feeling “It certainly true that you have had a remarkable period of useful- ness to us,” said Marjory with a slow smile, “‘but if it is ended you shoul not run ; from us. Coleman looked at her to see what she could mean women these words would have been egual under the circum command to stay, but he felt that none mig now what impu the mind behind that beautiful mask. In & misery he thought to hurt her into an expression of feeling by ¢ “I'm so in love with N you know, that I have to be eful of myself.” . “I never thought of that. ! of yourself.” She did not seem k spot. She was g to say which it that I many t outbrea r interrupted with ) your mother, my soon as the carriag hing to make 1 anythin 1t away wut biddi sion to him was that I in longer than m same time he decided that he would go, irretriey Even then the dragoman entered thé room. laughing. hat I can nan. The of suf- At the n her mind. go. We will pack everything “You are not going to bolt?"” Coleman, recovering himself for Peter's . probabl Presently the dragoman announced the readine: of the horses. Cole- man shook hands with the students and the professor amid cries of sur- prise and polite regret. ‘“What? Going, old mar Really? What for? Oh, wait for us., We're off in a few minutes. Sorry as the devil, old bo: to see you go.” He accepted their protes s with a.somewhat sour face. He knew perfectly well that they something that related to Nora Black. a collection. Marjory’s answering bow was affable; the bow of Mrs. Wainwright spoke a resentment for something, and Nora's bow was triumphant mockery. As he swung into the saddle an idea struck him with overwhelming force. The idea was that he was a fool. He was a colossal imbecile. He touched the spur to his horse and the antmal leaped superbly, making the Greeks hasten for safety in ail directions. He was off; he could no more return to_retract his devious idiocy than he could make his horse fly to Athens. What was done was done. He could mot mend it. And he felt like 2 man that had broken his own heart; per- versely, childishly, stupidly broken his own heart. X He was sure that Marjory was lost to him. No man could be dey so publicly and resent it so crudely and still retain a Marjor n his ent from his defeat at the hands of Norah Black he had performed able blockheadish act and had finally climaxed it all by a de- the tongue of Nora to speak unmolested into the ear of tory had been a serious blow to his fortunes, but it had not been so serious as his own subsequent folly. He had generously muddled his own affairs until he could read nothing out of them but de- spair. He was in the mood for hatred. He hated many peopls. Nora B! s the principal item, but he did not hesitate to etest the yrotesl:::l Wainwright, Coke and all the students. As for Marjory, he would revenge himself upon her. She had done nothing that he defined clearly but,.at any rate, he would take revenge for it. As much as was possiblé he would make her suffer.- He would convince her that he was a tre- mendous and inexorable person. But it came upon his mind that he was powerless in all way £ he hated many people they probably would not be even interested in his emotlon, and as for his revenge upon Marjory was beyond his strength. He was but the vi Nora Bla;‘k flr“? hx}"n“m 4 complaining victim of Nora e felt that he would never again see Marjory, and while feeling ! he began to plan his attitude when next the; o RS e e y met. He would bs very col t Agrinion he found that there would be no train until the next day- break. The dragoman was excessively annoyed over it but Colaman 414 not scold at all. “ As a matter of fact his heart had given a great joyous bound. He could not now prevent his being overtaken. They were only a g;;];ea:fi;i avar, t%nd w ’}? he was_walting for the train they would is stance. an exprest 3| hecdu Sxhubit e opiea £1f anybody expressed surprise at seeing him ere had been a train starting at once he would have taken it. His ride would have put up with no subterfuge. gf the Walnwrights over- ook him it was because he could not held ft. ut he was delighted that he could not help it. There had been an interposition by some specially beneficent fate. He felt like whistling. He spent the early part of the night in blissful smoke, striding the room which the dragoman had found for him. His head was full of plans and detached impressive scenes in ‘which he figured before Marjory. The simple fact that there was no train away from Agrinion until the next daybreak had wrought a stupendous ?3{’5‘5& in his outlook. He unhesitatingly considered it an omen of & good He was up before the darkness even contained presage of coming light, but near the railway station was a little hut where coffes was being serve. to several prospective travelers who had come even earlier to the rendez- vous. There was no evidence of the Wainwrights. bt Coleman sat in the hut and listened for the rumble of wheels. suddenly appalled that the Wainwrights were going to miss the train Perhaps they had decided against traveling during the night. this thing and perhaps that thing. The morning was very cold. y muffled in his coat he went to the door and stared at where the road was whitening out of night. At the statlon stood a little spectral train and the engine at intervals emitted a Iong, piercing scream which informed the echoing land that, in all probability, it was going to start after a time for the south. The Greeks in the coffee room were, of course, talking. At last Coleman did hear the sound of hoofs and wheels. The thres carriages swept up in grand procession. - The first was laden with student in the second was the professor. the Greek officer, Nora Black’s old lady and other persons, all looking marvelously unimportant and shelved. It was the third carriage at which Coleman stared. At first he thought the dim light deceived his vision, but in a moment he knew that his first leap- ing conception of the arrangement of the people in this vehicle had been perfectly correct. Nora Black and Mrs. Wainwright sat side by side on the back seat, while facing them were Coke and Marjory. They looked cold but intimate. The vddity of the grouping stupefied Coleman. and unashamed. He could not ima; were thinking of his departure as At the last he bowed to the ladies It was anarchy, naked ne how such changes could have been consummated in the short time he had been away from them, but he latd it all to some startling -necromancy on the part of Nora Black, Some wondrous_play which had captured them all because of its surpassing skill and because they were, in the main, rather gullible people. He was wrong. The magic had been wrought by the unaided foolishness of Mrs Wainwright. As soon as Nora Black had succeeded in creating an effect of intimacy and dependence between herself and Coleman. the proferes had flatly stated to his wife that the presence of Nora Black in the p T in the inn, in the world, was a thing that did not meet his approva) fo boe way. She should be abolished. As for Coleman, he would not defend iiny He preferred not to talk of him. It made him fad. Coleman at least b been very indiscreet, very mdiscreet. It was a great pity. Dut ar foc 1o blatant woman, the sooner they rid themselves of her the soroee pioh 3 fel that all the world was not evil. 2 € ‘would Whereupon Mrs. Wainwright had changed front and attacked with horse, foot and guns. Wwith the speed of light She f4 lared. where this poor. lone girl was 1n sreat trey (0 gee, she had de- Of course, it w: probable that she had listened to this snaky- . it was Phat was ever the mistake that women mady. OF oIS Goleman, but would like tg }ethéxlus ‘(‘:olglnun‘ Off scot-free. That was -t;;vg“;;fe;?m men. They defended each other in all e < X the woman who suffered. cases. It wrong were done it was Coptinued Next Week,