The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, October 1, 1899, Page 28

THE D AY CALL = ittle at p ould say it v sm powe: ourse it n, and at ed him assiste e train, 1 slope, and the day rapidly colored Alsplay a militant mood, but as time t ing the advisability of ties were great. possibilit To es of making more she considerpd Rufus. 1 wish you Coleman saw that this was “Oh, let in the rug before she could The young man had no idea e necessity for it. It it of amlability, his chronic desire passion in this direction was well- <t. Presently she drawled: me a little better.”. feet with speed and enthusiasm. ifiled body comfortable known ash t, W the students had borrowed a phrase from the h fn order ‘to C n fully in nickname. They called asant T This did not antagonize In any way his t on occasions with a singular despération which in evert mind where good ture has a throne. much, Mr. To ' said Nora Black without in these matters. it’! said Coleman boldly. and he looked le-had begun. have had opportunity enough to know never pald you any particular and know what T am lax in and what be of service at any time, Nora, but have a right to my services superior annot I would be oblig do not consider -that you er right Nora Black sim . but fortunately part of her madness was in the form of epe Otherwise there might have been heard something approaching to billingsgate, Marjory b first hot and then cold and looked ., .and en Coke. penned helplessly in with emed to have a sudden attack of distress. The “oleman. He had made his declaration of inde- with glee' that the victory was complete. Nora rage, but he had announced his position in an un- blunt way. which nobodv in the carriage could fail to under- felt somewhat like smIIln% h confidence and defiance in out -he still ‘had the fear for Marjory. the fight was all out of Nora Black. She had the fury an scorne but évicently she had perceived that all was over ef of her wrath dispensed itself in glares which th ‘great composure. silence fell upon the group, which lasted until they arrived port of Mesalonghi, swhere they were to-take ship for Patras. nd himself wondering why he had not gone flatly at the great a much. earlier period, indeed at the first moment when the n began to make life exciting for him. He thought that if he d Nora's guns in the beginning they would have turned out to same -incapable artillery. Instead of that he had run away and -d to run away until he was actually cornered and made to fight, éasy victory défined him es a person who had, earlier, indulged uch stupidity and cowardice. & erything had. worked out so simply, his terrors had been dispelled so that he probably was led to overestimate his success. And it oo- urred suddenly to him,. He foresaw a fine occasion to talk privately to iarjory when all had boarded the steamer for Patras and he resolved to of it. This'he believed would end the strife and conclusively make laurel him. - . The traln finally drew up on a little stone pier and some hoatmen be- gan to scream like gulls. The steamer ley at anchor in the placid blue cove. The embarkation was chaotic in the Oriental fashion end there “to break it there in that inn, but I couldn’t budge her. was the customary misery which was only relieved when the travelers foot on the deck of the steamer. Coleman did not devote any tention to finding Marjory, but when the steamer was fairly waters of the Gulf of Corinth, he saw her pacing to and Tounl: At first he lurked in the distance waiting for an he decided to make his own opportunity. He would you let me speak to you alone for a mind, will you, Peter?” id Peter Tounley. me dreadful revelation, is it?"’ sald Marjory, tainly not It fs not tractedly. He was thinking of what he was vanished around the corner of a deckhouse n began to pace to and fro even as Marjory and . Coleman had thought to speak his mind frankly i on the train he had {nvented many clear expressions d not appear that he had forgotten them. d become entangled in his mind {n such a way that he the end of hi course. v began to speak in admiration of the scenery. “I ras so full of mountains. One reads so much t these mountains royal? They look so rugge is absolutely as blue as the old descriptions of eak to you about Nora Black.” sald Coleman. Why?” eald Marjory, lifting her eyebrows. You know well enough,” said Coleman in a headl on¥ fashion. ‘*You must know, you must have seen it. She knows I care for you and she And she has no right to—to interfere. She is a flend, a She is tr;ing to make you feel that I cars for her. And don't you care for her?”’ asked Marjory. ‘oleman vehemently. *I don't care for her at all.” b answered Marjory simply. "I believe you.” BShe managed to give the words the effect of a mere announcement that she believed him and it was in no way plain that she was glad or that she esteemed the matter as being of consequence. He scowled at her in dark esentment. “You mean by that, I sup- pose, that you don’t belleve me?"" “'Oh,” answered Marjory wearily, “I believe you. I sald so. Don't talk about it any more.” “Then,” said Coleman slowly, ‘you mean that you do not care whether TI'm teiling the truth or not $‘Why, of course I care, He did not know app: which e she sald. “Lying is not nice.” rently exactly how to deal with her manner, was actually so pliable that it was marble, If one mey speak in that He looked ruefully at the sea. He had expected a far easier time. * he began. . Really,” interrupted Marjory, “this is something which I do not care to discuss.” 1 would rather you would not speak to me at all about it. It seems too—too—bad. 1 can readily give you my word that I belleve you, but I would prefer you not to try to talk to me about it or—anything of that sort. Mother!” . Mrs. Wainwright was hovering anxiously in the vicinity and she now bore down rapidly upon the pair. “You are very nearly to Patras” she said reproachfully to her daughter as if the fact had some fault of Mar- Jjory's concealed in it. She in no way acknowledged the presence of Cole- man. 'Oh, are we?"” cried Marjory. “Yes,” sald Mrs. Wainwright. ‘“We are!” She stood waiting as if she expected Marjory to instantly quit Cole- man. The girl wavered a moment and then followed her mother. “Good- by,” she said to Coleman. “I hope we may see vou again in Athens.” It was & command to him to travel alone with his servant on the long rall- way journey. It was a dismissal of a casual acquaintance given so gra- clously that it stung him to the depths of his pride. He bowed his adieu and his thanks. When the yelling boatmen came again he and his man rroceeded to thefehore in an early boat without looking in any way after he welfare of the others. At the train the party split into three sections. Coleman and his man had one compartment. Nora Black and her squad had another and the ‘Walnwrights and students occupied two more. The little officer was still in tow of Nora Black. He was very enthusi- astic. In French she directed him to remain silent, but he did not appear to understand. “‘You tell him,” she then sald to her dragoman, “to sit in a corner and not to speak until I tell him to, or I won't have him in here. She seemed anxlous to unburden herself to the old ladf compan- fon, “Do you know,” she said, “that girl has a nerve like steel? 1 tried If T am going to have her beaten I must prove mgself to be a very, very artful person.” “Why did you try to break her nerve?’ asked the old lady, yawning. “Why do you want to have her beaten?’ “Because I do, old stupid,” answered Nora. “You should have heard the things I sald to her.” ‘*About what?"" ‘‘About Coleman. Can’t you understand anything at all?* “And why should you#ay anything about Coleman to her?” queried the old lady, still hopelessly befogged. “‘Because,” cried Nora, darting a look of wrath at her companion, “T want to prevent that marriage.” She had been betrayed into this avowal The latter et once sat erect. mind of the old lady. o f a ray of light had been let into her head. 1t rejoined I;'oln!, ""mfig?; 1 d. amaze: nto a = lhe!;hpeok%dd;;ggs&a:ly. ““Well, how are you golng to prevent it? “Those usly. “Don't ven ¢ vu'\:x?t‘:llfié mfi:c‘»fi:‘,o 1eny.se, They don’t cars for each olher,hdo you see? he cares for glm. but he don‘t give a snap of his fingers for ;r.‘ e “But,” cried the bewildered lady, “1If he don't care for her thers Wil DO nothing to prevent. If he don't care for her he won't ask hei him, and so there won't be anything to prevent Nora made a broad gesture of impatience. through your head? Haven't you seen that the young woman in that whole party lost up there in naturally more than half of the men still think th in love wi That's what it 1s. Can't you see? It always happens that wa The old lady-spoke up bri le to cor velligent to the talk. “Oh, then, he does care it . O s eaiker o if thelr glance migat shrivel the ola Jadys hatr, “Don’ telling you that it 1s no ? r hD?sn;JlI lg(lener%uurt Frascination! "Way up thers in the wildernesa! Only ssabl man in sight. e :f fended, “but I fall to see where I cou <t you te 't cé a then you tell mo that he does care for her. don“(‘(c:?gnfv(:xrr,r'lq}‘a:sclnatlo%,' " quoted Nora. “Don't you understand the ds?"” me:‘!‘n\(\'}ng!l.o”t glexegn{he other, “didn’t he know her, then, before he came ver here?"” o "\'o:a was silent for a time, whils & gloom upon her ?ce degeex;ar;taldc.dlt; had struck her that the theorles for which ghe protested so energotica’s Hent 3 at yalue. Spoken aloud. they had & su bad 'h e N Sarated to herseit that Coleman was the perfod of meditation. At last , can't you get anything o irl has been the only the mountains, and that ey are in love with her? Then she wished it to be true. One theory, Marjory was an artful minx, with no truth however, remained un: in her. She presently felt the necessity of reply panion. “Oh,” she sald carelessly, “I su The old lady was giving the cas she observed, m is between 'em.’’ The talk had so slackened that here was a good opp: the actress. The means was a tion wtuld have frightened a man in ce ror at the storm he had evoked, and he dropped limply back as if some one had shot him. You tell this little snipe to let me alone!” cried Nora to the dragoman. If he dares to come around me with any more of those Parisian dude speeches, I—I don’t know what I'll do! I won't have it, T say.” The impression upon the dragoman was hardly less in effect. He looked with bulging eyes at Nora, and then began to stammer at the offi- cer. The latter’'s voice could sometimes be heard in awed whispers for the more elaborate explanation of some detall of the tragedy. Afterward he remained meek and silent in his corner, barely more than a shadow, like the proverbial husband of imperious beauty. “Well,” said the old lady, after a lons and thoughtful pause, “I don't know, I'm sure, but it seems to me that {f Rufus Coleman really cares for that girl there isn’t much use in trying to stop him from getting her. He isn’t that kind of & man.” “For heaven's sake, will you stop assuming that he does care for her?”’ demanded Nora, breathlessly. “And I don't see,” continued the old lady, “‘what you want to prevent him for, anyhow.” CHAPTER XXVIL I feel in this radiant atmosphere that there could be no such thing as war—men striving together in black and passionate hatred.” The profes- sor’s words were for the benefit of his wife and daughter. He was viewing the sky-blue waters of the gulf of Corinth with its background of moun- tains that in the sunshine were touched here and there with a copperish glare. The train was slowly sweeping along the southern shore. ‘‘It is strange to think of those men fighting up there in the north. And it is strange to think that we ourselves are but just returned from it.”” “I cannot begin to realize it yet,” sald Mrs. Wainwright in a high volce “‘Quite 80.” responded the professor, reflectively. “I do not supposs any of us will realize it fully for some time. It is altogether too odd, too very *“To think of it!” cried Mrs. Walnwright. *“To think of it! Supposing those dreadful Albanians or those awful men from the Greek mountains h?(‘! caught us? Why, years from now I'll wake up in the night and think of ft!'" s The professor mused. “Strange that we cannot feel it strongi: My logic tells me to be aghast that we ever got into such a place, but my nerves at present refuse to thrill. I am very much afrald that this singu- lar apathy of ours has led us to be unjust to poor Coleman.” Here Mrs. Wainwright objected. * ‘Poor Coleman! I don't see why you call him ‘poor Coleman.’ ’* % "\\'eul. answered the professor slowly, “I am in doubt about our be- avior. It—" “*Oh,” cried the wife gleefully, “in doubt about our behavior! I am in doubt about his behavior.” “‘So, then, you do have a doubt of his behavior?” ““Oh, no,” responded Mrs. Wainwright hastily. ‘Not about its bad- ness. What I mean to say was that In the face of his outrageous conduct with that—that woman, it is curious that you should worry about our be. havior. It surprises me, Harrison.” Th® professor was. Wa§§‘"§ his head sadly. *“Tdon’t know * ¢ I don't know * * It seems hard to judge * * I hesitate to—'" Mrs. Wainwright treated this attitude with disdain. “It is not hard to Judge,” she scoffed, “and I fail to see why you have any reason for hesite. tion at all. Here he brings this woman—"" The professor got angry. “Nonsense! Nonsense! I do not belleve that he br%ught her. If I ever saw a spectacle of & woman bringing herself it ‘was then.” ‘“Well,” retorted Mrs. Wainwright, bridling, “I suppose you im that you understand such things. Men usually think that, but I wamn x:: tell you that you seem to be utterly blind.” “Blind or not, do stop the everlasting reiteration of that sentence.” Mrs. Walnwright passed into an offended silence, and the Dprofessor, naken. 1g to the question of her com- se they were acquainted—in a bject. “If that's ou can't tell what but his recep- His fa ched with hor- now. 0 tion at the scen also silent, looked with a gradually dg’:;‘.f‘,‘;“, ggd{lj&?‘ O e & Night was suggested in_the sky ore tt “My trunks. sighed Mrs. Walnwright. “How glad I w 1l to my trunks! Ok, the dust? Oh, the mf o fir h rrison. Maybe the E 5 ; ‘“éufrnei fl:z they arrived in Athens amid a darkness wh 0 nt of trouble ing, and after no more than the common amount of trou s. W carriages and were taken to the hotel. Mrs. ¥ domlngted the others in the family. b' e n’a‘d : The majority of the servants in the hotel pretendec : iish, but in three minutes she drove them !Sulr.tc..,' and viclence of her requests. It came to pass that old couple quite forgot Marjory. It was ‘”\' feeling splendidly, was dressed for dinner that il jory's door and go to render a usual motherly super totlet. There was no light; passion ed that t with t h there did not seem to be anybody 1n‘ ; listened for a “Marjory!" called the mother in alarm. She listened for then ran hastily out again. “Harrison!” she cried, I can’t fl The professor - had been tying his cravat. He lf}:en e g his mouth wide. “What?" he ejaculated, open ith wi 2 s s, beseeched the old man into Marjory’s room. “Marjory would have Invoked the grave. 7 2 The answer was from the bed. ‘‘Yes? i was not like Marjory. It was dangerously the voice It was low, weary, tea f a he: an. They hurried forward with outcries. ““Wh N ohilar How long have you been lying in the call us? Are you 12" 5 N answered this changed voice, “I am not Il No st for & time. Don’t bother.” et professor_hastily lit the gas and then father and m hurriedly to the bed. In the first of the {llumination they s& were flowing unchecked down Marjory's face. 5 o The effect of this grief upon the professor was in part an eflec ‘He seemed afrald to touch it, to go near it. He could evident main in the outskirts, a horrified spectats The mother, how ‘cer arms about her daughter. “Oh, M The girl turned her face to the pi “Don’t, mother! Don't!’ 5 “Oh, Marjory! Oh, Mn.rjory, “Don’t, mother. Please!go away. I beg of you.” . Marjory! “Don’t.” The gl % entirely new in it. ‘Please go away, mo won’t—I can’t—I can’t be pitied. Mrs. Wainwright looked at her trembling. “‘Go!" She threw up he weas not without its suggestion that h left the room. Don't speak at all Please go away. Oh, Marjory!"” rl lifted a face whi appalled t er. 1w “Yes The professor dropped on his kne aside and t Marjory’s hands. His volce dropped o its ten note. Jory e had turned her face again to its plllow. At last she answered in uffied tones. “You know. i il %herea!ter came a long silence full of who spoke first. “I have saved my D thing—else.”” Even her sudden resu hoo old m nelt, gripping her fingers and staring at the wa 5 & Phave lost—every thing—else. ‘ The father gave a low groan. He was th! one was only a human belng, how was one g assafled with sinister fury from the he felt as helpless as an old gray with which he could defend his c! her. There was no w. heart of the child. If would have been a sacrifice of his h He could only groan and stare at the w He reviewed the past half in fear his error which was now the cause of 1 the fact that In Washurst he had ref riage with Coleman, but not correct. It was si jory, this ancient woe of harpened patn governed will uld only kneel at the be & wall 3 = Marjory raised her voice Ry 1 betray myself? come the malden all Did I giggle to show people tha care? No—I did r not. it was ong e, dad such a long time! I t we would never get here. I thought never get where I could e I could—ery—if to. I am not much of a c She suddenly drew herself over “Oh, daddy, I I wa ._This morning T s didn’t want to 1. ‘T know he dfdn't. him. I know she is not. I am s 1 never expected to talk this-w good, daddy. * * Dear old dadd She ceased, for she saw that h to_her a new out Black is no sure of | e, but—you are so er was praying. urst of sobbing, for her sorrow £ her old It was the last rf some tmagining o Finally her fa dear,” he He tur was full of chasten But If hie thou free of shock when he arrived Ir “Well, what is all this ab she dem say that Marjory Is breaking her heart your fault—" She was app still r When the professor interrupted her tomad spirit, but from something novel f danger signal. “Please do not b “Then it 18 tru It is ue,” & “Well.” she said, after refl you hadn't been so biind. You of Coleman. You never cou an hour. bod you see the r was, and if urst out at it {n that way.” ' she asked. Her voice was & mere awed wht it. I warned “If it fis m: ve me. for z = f done as I tol “Well, if sor revolted. f begin on that” ha that we d be g nd I do not kno rtic: “Well, 1 et T edly the door no Ecoff dignity of with which to spor tude, and stan blinding vividness to his remained long under fire. selves with I 10 come to th m it was no le g with one fi smoking fountain. The faces of the men of the arrivin their cold and pebbly eves straight to ex ns of alarm, looked as if the; crowd rather bolted from this extraordinary “There, now,” said Coke bitterly to looked like little schoolboys—" “Oh, never mind, old man,” gaid Peter To although you did embarrass us. But, above ever ever you do, dor‘t drip."” The students took this question of drip, they would have made quite insane any another student. The: worked It into all manner of forms and ed and haggled at Coke unt he was driven®to his room to seek other apparel. “Be sure and change both legs,” they told him. ‘“Remember you can't change one leg without changing both fegs.” After Coke's departure the United States Minister entered the room, and instantly they were subdued. It was not his lofty station that affected them. There are probably few stations that would have at -all affected them. They became subdued because they unfelgnedly lked the Unitd States Minister. They were suddenly a group of well-bred, correctly attired young men, who had not put Coke's foot in the fountain Nor had they desecrated the majesty of the hotelkeeper. “Well, T am delighted,” said the Minister, laughing, as he shook hands with them all. “I was not sure I would ever see you again. You are not to be trusted, and good boys as you are I'll be §lad to see you énce and forever over the boundary of my jurisdiction. Leave Greece, you vaga- bonds. However, I am truly delighted to see you &ll safe.” ““Thank you, sir,” they said “How in the world did you get out of 1t? You must be chaps. I thought you were in a hopeless position. ever,Awhere I could, but I cf;fld fn_;,fl "u‘t nothing ™ - correspondent,” satd Peter Tounley. *I don't know if you hav: him. His name is Coleman. He found us.” s Devamat "Coleman?” asked the Minister quickly. “}_"esl.lsi : He found us and hrv‘:ughtdu 1:mt safely.” “Well, glory be to Coleman, eclaimed the Minister after a lor of surprise. Fiory be to Colemanf "I never thought he could 9o it e he students were alert immediately. “Why, did you know #ir?, Did he tell you he was coming after us?" OF shout it “Of course. He came to me here in Athens and asked where r I told him you were in & peck of trouble. He acted quietly and 'scor‘zznv::)::: queerly and sald that he would try to look you up. He sald vou weey friends of his. I warned him against trying it. Yes, I sald 1t was i “We'll forgive g, don't drip. W ayed upon it until ou, at- remarkabls I wired and cabled sible. ‘T had no idea that he would really carry the thin 3 ot he tell you anything about this himsel?) et “No, sir,” ‘answered Peter Tounley. “He never sald much about it. T think he usually contended that it was mainly an accident “It was no accident,” eald the Minister sharply. “When a man starts out to do a thing and does it you can’t say it is an accident ™ 5 T didn't say so, sir,”” sald Peter Tounley d| “Quite true, quife true! You dfdn't, but—this Coler “We think so. sir.”” said he who was called Blllle. us thémlg)r‘x in dleh tir “But how dli ® manage {t?” cried th 1 e v rgg BB s : e Minister, keenly {nterested. “It is hard to say, sir. But he atd it. SpLlsnerd to say He met us in the dead of night “Near Nikopolis?" o “‘Yes, sir. @ hid us in a forest while a ficht was goin then in the morning he brought us inside the Greek lines . On lot vg(ahteu-" " : Vhereupon they told it, or as much as they could of it. t!he M:nglsct\iralsla{g:dl“weli‘ihwhere is :he professor and .\lrs‘. Wainwright ? want you a ne with me to-night. 1 am dining in the pu om, but you won't mind that after Emrug" 2 Be e & Palliaiedom, “They should be down now, sir,”” answered a student. People were now coming rapidly to dinner and presently the profe ;lnd Mrs.t:\da:gw;{fih: appeared. The old man looked hagsard and He accep e Minister's warm greeting with a strained path, : “Thank you. We are glad to return safely 3 o o Continued Next Week. on, and Oh, there is g In the end ta. e,