The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, June 21, 1903, Page 5

would dare, that they would presume—"" “The neople are not what they were. There hath come Into Europe the leaven of the New World. 1 had looked there to see a nobler and a better France. It is too late for that, and surely it is too late for the old ways of this France which we see about us. You can not pre- sume now upon the temper of these folk as you might have dome fifty years ago. The Messasebe, that noble stream, it hath swep* its purifying flood throughout the world! Look you, at this moment there tumbling this house which we have ibbles, one bubble upon an- lowing each bubble bigger and than the last. Mine is not the Iy fault, nor yet the greatest fault. I was sinc , where others cared naught for sinceri Another day. another peo- ple, may vet say the world was better for my effort, and that therefore at the last 1 have not fafled.” CHAPTER XL ner THE BREAKING OF THE BUBBLE It was the evening of the day following that on which John Law and the regent of France had met in their stormy inter- view. During the morning but littie had transpired regarding the significant events of the previous day. In these vast and excited crowds, divided groups and ques and factions, aided by no bulle- tins, counseled by no printed page, there was but little cohesion of purpose, since there was little unity of understanding. e of shares at one kiosk might thousands of livres, whereas a juare away the price might vary by half livres; impetuous was the e of these continually rising prices frenzied and careless the temper e who bargained for them. Yet before noon of the day following the decree of the regent, which fixed the value of actions upon a descending scale, the news, after a fashion of its own, spread rapidly abroad, and all too swiftly s generally known. The n a rumor that shares had tarted had been current but a few moments be- s something which had not in all these feverish months of the Messasebe. Then came the story that shares could not be counted upon to alize over 8000 livres. At that the price e actions dropped in a flash, as w had prophesied. A sudden wave of ty, a panic chill of sober understand- ing swept over this vast multitude of still ng souls who had traded so pon this impossible supposition of ever-advancing market. Reason still am. them, yet fear and sudden were not wanting. Man after astened swiftly away to sell pri- before greater drop 1 come. He met other upon lony &n lackecd suspici isely the reverse of the old situation obtained. As all Paris had fought to now all P fought to sell. The ere filled with clamoring mobs. re had been confusion, now emonium. Never was such essed. Never was there swift and utter reversion the minds of a great con- le. Bitter indeed was the that agony swept over began at the Messasebe, ens of the Hotel de t focus hard by the tem- ma. It spread and spread, nto all the remoter portions d c It reached uitimately e extreme confines of Paris. Into the ded square which had been decreed trading place of the Messasebe there crowded from the outer other thousands of excited The end had come. The There was no longer § e Messasebe! It was late in the day, in fact well on toward night, when the knowledge of the crash came into the neighborhood where Lady Catharine Knollys. To r the news was brought by a servant, who excitedly burst unannounced into her mistress’ presence. “Mad: Madame!” she cried pare! 'Tis horrible! 'Tis impossible! at an end’” Stop! Enough of thig, Lady Catharine, sternly. “After this ve better wisdom, and do not meddle things which you do not understand.” Yet scarce had the girl departed before there appeared again the sound of run- teps, and presently there broke, un ounced, into the presence of his mistre the coachman, fresh from ables and none too careful of his Tears ran down his cheeks. He out his hands with gestures as of Gemented “Pre- All Marie!” gaid cried he. “The news, my i, the shares are going down!” Fellow, what do you here?” said Lady Catha: “Why do you come with this same € which Marie has just brought you not learn your place?” ny lady, you do mnot under- tand! reiterated the man, blankly. Tis all over. THere is no Messasebe; there is no longer any System, no longer any company of the Indles. There is no ith for the stretching out of "Tis all over. I must go back horses—] madame, who should pres- have associated with the nobilit: ell, and if so0,” replied his mistress, say to you, I have to Marle. that there will stil be money for your wages.” - es! Mv faith, what trifles, my ! This Monsieur L’'as, the director general, he it is who has ruined us! Well enough it is that the square in front of his hotel is filled with people! Presently they will break down his doors. And then, pray God they punish J”m for this that he has done!” The cheek of Lady Catharine paled and a sudden flood of contending emotions crossed her mind. “You do not tell me that Monsieur L'as is in danger, Pierre?” sajd she. “Assuredly. Perhaps within the very hour they will tear down his doors and rend him limb from limb. There is no punishment which can serve him right— him who has ruined our prefty, pretty System. Mon Dieu! It was so beautiful!” “Is this news certain?’ “Assuredly, most certain. Why should it not be? The entire square in front of the Hotel de Soisson is packed. Unless my Lady needs me 1 myself must hasten thither to aid in the punishment of this Jean L'as!” “You will stay here,” arine. *“Wait! the present, go Left alone, Lady Catharine stood for a moment pale and motiopless, in the cen- ter of the room. Sne strode then to the window and stood looking fixedly out. Her whole figure was tense, rigid. Yon- der, over there, across the gabled roofs of Paris, they were clamoring at the door of him who had given back Paris to the King, and France again to its.people. ‘they were assailing him—this man so long unfaltering, o insistent on his ambi- tions, so—so steadfast! Could she call him steadfast? And they would seize him in spite of the courage which she knew would never fajl. .Tney would kill, they would rend, they wouww trample him! They would erush that glorious aid Lady Cath- There may be need! For THE SUNDAY CALL. body, abase the lips that had spoke so well of love! The clenched fingers of Lady Catharine broke apart, her arms were flung wide in a gesture of resolution. She turned from the window, looking here and there about the room. Ungonsciously she stopped be- fore the great cheval-glass that hung against the wall. She stood there, looking at_her own image, keenly, deeply. She saw indeed a waman fit for sweet usages of love, comely and rounded, deep- boscmed, her oval face framed in the piled masses of glorious red-brown hair. But her wide, blue eyes, scarce seeing 1nis outward form, stared into the soul of that other whom she witnessed. It was as though the Lady Catharine Knollys at last saw another self and recognized it! A quick, hard sob broke from her throat. In haste she tlew, now to one part of the room, now to another, picking up first this article and then that which seemed of need. And so at last she hurried to the bell-cord. “Quick,” cried she, as the servant at length appeared. “Quick! Do not delay an instant! My carriage at oncel!” CHAPTER XIL N THAT WHICH REMAINED. a As for John Law, all through that fatal day which meant for him the ruin of his ambitio: he continued in the icy calm which, for days past, had distin- guished him. He discontinued his ordi- nary employments and spent some hours in sorting and destroying numbers of papers and documents. His faithful ser- vant, the Swiss, Henri, he commanded to make ready his apparel for a journey. “At 6 this evening,” sald he, ‘‘Henrl, we shall be ready to depart. -Let us be quite ready weil before that time.” “Monsieur is leaving Paris?”’ asked the Swiss, respectfully. “Quite s0.” . “Perhaps for a stay of some curation? “Quite so, indeed, Henrl™ “Then, sir,” expostulated the Swiss, “it would require a day or so for me to properly arrange your luggage.’ < “Not at all,” replied Law. “Two valises will suffice, not more, and I shall perhaps ot need even these. ot all the apparel, the many coats, the jewels—"" “Do mnot trouble over them.” “But what disposition shall I make—?" “None at all. Leave all these things as they are. But stay—this package which I shall prepare for you—take it to the re- gent, and have it marked in his care and for the Parliament of France.” Law raised in his hands a bundle of parchments, which one by one he tore across, throwing the fragments into a basket as he did so. “The carville,” “The estate of Ber- ville; Mazarin; the lands of Bourget; the Mar- % ) ) the Hotel of Charle- the lands of the quisag ville; Orcher; estate Monsieur,” expostulated the Swiss, “what is that that you do? Are these not your pos- gessions?”’ “Not ami, “They mine. estates Take deeds. s0o, mon replied Law. once were They are in France. |} back these | ) Dead Sully 5 may have his own again, and each of | ) these late owners of | the lands. I wished |/ them for a purpose, That purpose s no longer possible, and now I wish them no more. Take back your deeds, my friends, and bear in your minds that John Law tore them in two, and thus canceled the obliga- tion. “But the moneys you have paid—they are enormous. Sure- ly you will exact restitution?” No. Leave it for himwhomay be first tofind it. These dear people without, these same people whom I have enriched, and who now will claim that I have im- poverished them—these people will de- mand of me everything that I have. As a man of honor 1 cannot deny them. They shall have every jot and stiver of the property of John Law, even the mil- lion or so of good coin which he brought here to Paris with him. The coat on my back, the wheels beneath me, gold enough to pay for the charges of the inns through France—that is all that John Law will take away with him.” The arms of the old servant fell help- less at his side. “Sir, this is madnes he expostulated. Not so, Henrl,” replied Law, leniently. Madness enough there has been in Paris, it is true, but madness not mine nor of my making. For madness, look you yon- der.” " He pointed 2 finger through the win- dow where the stately edifice of the Palais Royal rose. “My good friend the regent—it is he who hath been mad,” continued Law. “He, holding France in trust, has ruined France forever.” “Monsieur, I grieve for you,” said the Swiss. “I bave seen your success in these years and, as you may imagine, have un- derstood something of your affalrs as time went on.” “And have you not profited by your knowledge in these times?” “I have had the salary your Honor has agreed to pay me,” replied the Bwiss. “And no more?” “No more.” “Why, there are serving folks in France by the hundreds who have grown mil- lionalres by the knowledge of their em- ployers’ affairs these last two years in Paris. Never was such a time in all the world for making money. Have you been more blind than they? Why did you not tell me? Why did you not ask?” “I was content with your employment, Monsieur L'as. I would ask no better master.” “It 18 not so with certain others. They think me a hard master enough, and hav- ing displaced me will do all they can to punish me. But now, Henri, you will perhaps need to look elsewhere for a master. I am going far away—perhaps across the seas. It may be—but I know not where and care not where my foot may wander hereafter, nor will I seek now to plan for it. As for you, Henrl, since you .admit you have been thus biind to your own interests, let us look to that. Go to the desk again. Take out the drawer—that one on the left hand. So—bring it to me.” different star characters in the book. ““The King of the Foxes" By A. Conan Doyle. The servant obeyed. Law took from his hand the receptacle, and with a sweep of his hand poured out on the table its con- tents. A mass of glittering gems, dia- monds, sapphires, pearls, emeralds, fell and spread over the table top¢ The light cast out by their thousand facets lit up the surroundings with shimmering, many colored gleams. The wealth of a kingdom mjght have been here in the careless pos- séssion of this man, whose resources had been absolutely without measure. “‘Help yourself, Henrl,” said Law, calm- Iy, and turned about to his employment among the paper: A moment later he turned again to see his servant still stand- ing motionles: “Well?” gaid Law. “I do not understand,” said the Swiss. “Take what you lik said Law. “I have said it, and I mean it. It is for your pay, because you have been honest, be- cause I understand you as a faithful man.’ “But, Monsieur, these things have very great value,” said the Swiss. “Let me ask how {s it that you yourself take so little gold along? Does Monsfeur purpose to take with him his fortune in gems and Jewels instead?"” “By no means. I purpo louis, as I have said.” “Monsieur would have me replace the drawer?” “How do you mean?” “Why, I want none of them.” “Why?"” “‘Because them.” “File! mine.” “Perhaps, but T want none of them.” “Are you afraid?” “Monsijeur!” Do vou stones?” “Assuredly,”” said the Swiss, “else why ghould we have cared for them among our gems?" “Well, then, I command you master, to take forth some of jewels and keep them for your own.” “But no,” replied the Swiss. *It is only after Mopsfeur.” “What? Myself?” “‘Assuredly.” “Then, for the sake of precedent,” sa‘d Law, “let me see. Well, then, I will take one gem, only one. Here, Henrl, is the diamond which I brought with me when I came to Paris years ago. It was the sole jewel owned then by my brother and myself, though we had somewha: of gold between us, thanks to this same dia- mond. It was once my sole capital, in years gone by. Perhaps we may need a carriage through France, and this taking but 50 Monsleur wants none of Your case is quite different from not think them genuine ‘“Surely. They fled forthwith when they heard the people below crying out at the house. They are, indeed, threatening death to yourself. They cry that they will burn the house—that should you ap- pear they will have your blood at once. . “And are you not afrald?} asked Law. “I am here. Does not monsieur fear for himself?"” Law shrugged his shoulders. “There are many of them, and we are but two,” sald he. “For yourself, go you down the back ‘way and care for your own safety. I will 8o out the front and meet these good people. Are we quite ready for the jour- ney “Quite ready, as you have directed.” “Have you the two valises, with the one change of clothing?" “They are here.” ““And have you the fifty louls, as I stated ?” Here in the purse.” “And I think you have also the single diamond ?” b “It is here.” “Then,” sald Law, “let us go.” He rose, and scarce looking behind him even to see that his orders to the servant had been obeyed, he strode down the vast stairway of the great hotel, past many preclous works of art, between walls hung with richest tapestries and noble paintings. The click of his heel on 2 chance bit of exposed marble here and there echoed hoilow, as though indeed the master of the palace had been abandoned by all his people. The great building was silent, empty. “What! Are you, then, here?” he sald, seeing the servant had disobeyed his in- structions and was followed close behind him. He alone out of those scores of ser- vants, those hundreds of fawning nobles, those thousands of sycophant souls who had but lately cringed before him, now accompanied the late master of France as he turned to leave the house in which he no longer held authority. ‘Without, but the door’s thickness from where he stood, there arose a tumult of sound, shouts, cries, imprecations, en- treaties, as though the walls of soms asylum for the unfortunate had broken away and allowed its inmates to escape unrestrained, irreclaimable, impossible to control. “Down with Jean L'as! Down with Jean L'as!” rose a cadenced, rhythmic shout, the accord of a mob of Paris beat- ing into its tones. And this steady bur- den was broken by the cries of “Enter! Ente Break down the door! Kill the monster! Assassin! Thief! Traitor!” No word of the vocabulary of scorn and THE BANNER ‘EDITION OF THE YEAR You'll Buy Sunday CALL’S Summer Fiction Number Out Next Sunday It’s a Startler. une 28 This. “BETWEEN TWO FIRES” By MRS. C. N. Three Full llluminated ““The By Jack London. WILLIAMSON. Author of ““The Mystery Box,” “Tainted Gold,” Etc., both Published in the Sunday Call. It's a thrilling mystery story in the author’s best vein, told in a positively unique way by five You get it complete in two installments. Pages of Short Stories. Siwash” A Full Page of ‘‘Half-Hour Storiettes” by World Famous Writers. A Gurgling Laugh to Every may serve to pay the hire of a vehicle from one of my late dukes or marquises. Or perhaps at best I may send this same stone across the channel to my brother Will, who has wisely gone to Scotland, or should have departed before this. So, very well, Henrl, to oblige you I will take this single stone. Now, do you help yourself.” “Since monsfeur limits himself to so little,” said the Swiss, sturdily, “I shall not want more. This little pin will serve me, and I shall wear it long in memory of your many kindnesses.” Law rose to his feet and caught the good fellow by the hand. “By heaven, I find you of good blood!” sald he. “My friend, I thank you. And now put up the box. I shall not counsel you to take mere than this. We shall leave the rest for those who will present- 1y coms to claim it.” For some time silence reigned in the great room, as Law, deeply engaged in affairs before him, burfed himseif in th the mass of scattered books and papers. Hour after hour wore on, and at last he turned from his employment. His face showed calm, pale, and furrowed with a sadness which till now had been foreign to it. He arose at last, and with a sweep of his arm pushed back the papers which lay before him. “There,” sald he. “This should con- clude it all. It should all be plain enough now to those who follow. “Monsleur is weary,” mentioned the faithful attendant. “He would ve some refreshment.” “Presently, but I think not here, Henrl. The servant departed, and Law, left alone, sat silent and motionless, buried in thought. Now and again his head sank forward, like that of one wno has received & deep hurt. But agaln he drew himself up sternly, and so remained, not leaving his seat nor turning toward the window, beyond which could now be heard the sound of shout- ing, and cries whose confused and threat- ening tones might have given ground for the gravest apprehension. At length the Swiss again reported, much agitated and shaken from his ordinary self-control. “‘Monsieur,” sald he, “‘come. I have at last the coach at the door. Hasten, mon- sieur; a crowd is gathering. Indeed, we may meet violence.” < Law seemed not to hear him, but sat for a time, his head still bowed, his eyes gaz- ing straight before him. 4 “But, monsieur,” again broke in the Swiss, anxiously, *“if I may iInterrupt, there is need to hasten. There will be a mob. Our guard is gone.” “They were afrald.” The Etiquette of the Summer Hammock, Shown in a Full Page of Photographs. BEST OF ALL~THE NEW COMIC SUPPLEMENT IN COLORS Square Inch of Every Page. loathing was wanting in their cries. Hearing these cries, the face of this fighting man now grew hot with anger, and now it paled with grief and sorrow. Yet he faltered not, but stepped on, con- fidently. The Swiss opened the door and stood at the head of the flight of stairs. Tall, calm, pale, fearless, John Law stood facing the angry mob, his eyes shining brightly. He laid his hand for an inst. upon his sword, yet it was but to un- buckle the belt. The weapon he left lean- ing against the wall, and so stepped on down toward the crowd. He was met by a rush of excited men and women, screaming, cursing, giving vent to inarticulate and indistinguishable speech. A man laid his hand upon his shoulder. Law caught the hand and with a swift wrench of the wrist threw the owner of it to the ground. At this the others gave back, and for half a moment silence ensued. The mob lacked just the touch of rage to hurl themselves upon him. He raised his hand and motioned the maside. “Are you not Jean L'as?’ cried one dame, excitedly, waving in his face a handful of the paper shares of the latest issue in the Company of the Indles. “Are you not Jean L'as? Tell me, then, where is my money for these things? What shall I get for this rotten paper?”’ “You are Jean L'as, the director gen- erall” cried a man, pushing up to his ‘“'Twas you that ruined the company. See! Here is all that I have!” He wept as he shook his bunch of paper in John Law’s face. “Last week I was worth half a million!” He wept, and tore across, with impotent rage, the bundle of worth- less paper. “Down with Jean L'as! Down with Jean L'as!” came the recurrent. A rush followed. The carriage, towering above the ring of the surrounding crowd, ‘showed its coat of arms, and thus was recognized. A paving stone crashed through its heavy window. A knife ripped up the velvets of the cushions. The coachman was pulled from his box. The horses, plunging with terror, were cut loose from the pole and led away. With shouts and cries of rage and busy zeal, one madman vied with another in tearing, cutting and destroying the ve- Licle, until it stood there ruined, without means of locomotion, defaced and us less. And still the ring of desperate h manity closed around him who had late been master of all France. “What do you want, my friénds?” asked he, calmly, as for an instant there came a lull {n the tumult. He stood look- ing at them curiously now, his dulling eyes regarding them as though they pre- sented some new and interesting study. It’s a Pictorial Gem. “The Wiper’s Story" Byfimfirssory “What is it that you desire?”’ he peated. ‘““We want our money?” cried a score of volces. “We want back that which you have stolen.” ‘“You are not exact,” replied John Law, calmly. “I have not your money, nor yet have I stolen it. If you have suffered by this foolish panic, you do not mend mat- ters by thus treating me. By heaven, you go the wrong way to get anyth.ng from me! Out of the way, you canaille! Do you think to frighten me? I made your city. I made you all. Now, do you think to frighten me, John Law?" “Oh! You would go away, you want to escape!” cried the voices of those near at hand. “We will see as to that!” Again they fell upon the carriage, and still they hemmed him in closer. “True, I am going away,” sald Law. “But you cannot say that I tried to steal away without your knowing it. There, up the stairs, are my papers. You will see in time that I have concealed nothing. Now I am going to leave Parls, it is true; but not because I am afrald to stay here. *Tis for other reason, and reason of mine own.” *'Twas you who ruined Pari which you now seek to leav shrieked the dame who had spoken before, still ank notes in her this city “Oh, very well, my friend. For the ar- gument, let us agree upon that,” sald Law. “You ruined our company, our beautiful company!” cried another. * “Certainly. Since I was the originator of it, that follows as matter of reason,” replied Law. “Ah, he admits it! He admits t!” cried yet another. “Don’t let him escape. Kill him! Down with Jean L'as!” “We are going to kill you precisely here!” cried a huge fellow, brandishing a paving-stone before his eyes. “You are not fit to live.” “As to that,” sald Law, “I agree with you perfectly. My hand upon it; I am not fit to live. I have found that I made mis- takes. I have found that there is noth- ing left to desire. I have found out that all this money is not worth the having. 1 have found out so many things, my very dear friends, that I quite agree with you. For if one must want to live before he is fit to live, then indeed I am not fit. But what then?"” “Kill him! Kill him! Strike him down!"” cried out a voice back of the glant with the menacing paving-stone. “Oh, very well, my friends,” resumed the object of their fury, flicking again with his old, careless gesture at the deep cuff of his wrist. “As you like in regard to that. More than one man has offered i me that happiness in the past, yet it was many a long year since any man could trouble me by an- nouncing that he was about to kil me."” Something in the attitude of the man stayed the hands of the most dangerous members of the mob. Yet ever there came the cry from backof them, “Down with Jean L'as! He has ruined every: thing!" “Friends™ re- sponded Law to this cry, bitterly, “you little know how true you speak. It was indeed John Law who brought ruin to everything. It was indeed he who threw away what was worth more than all the gold in France. It is indeed he who has falled, and fail- ed most utterly. You can not frighten John Law, but you may do as you like with him, for surely he has fafled The bitterne of despair was in his tones. Then, perhaps, the sullen, savage crowd had wrought their last act of anger and revenge on him, had it not been for a sudden change in that tide of ill fortune that now seemed to carry him forward to his doom. There came a sound of far- oft crles, a distant clacking of hoofs, the clatter of steel, many shouts, entreaties and commands. The close- packed crowd which filled the open space in front of the hotel writhed, twisted, turned and would have sought to resol itself into groups and individuals. Some cried out that the troops were coming. A detachment of the king’s household, sent out to disperse these dangerous gather- ings, came full front down the street, as had so often come the arm of the muli- tary In this turbulent old city of Paris. Remorselessly they rode over through the mob, driving them, dispersing them. A moment later, and Law stood alone at tha. steps of his own house. The squadron wheeled, headed by an officer, who rode upon him with sword uplifted as though to cut him down. Law ralsed his hand at this new menace. “Stop!” he cried. “I am the cause of this rioting. I am John Law.” “What! Monsieur L'as?” cried the lleu- tenant. “So the people have found you, have they?” “It would seem. They have destroyed my carriage, and they would have killed me,” replied Law. “But I perceive it is Captain Mirabee. 'Twas I who got you your commission, as you may remember.” “Is it s0?"" replied the other, with & grin. “I have no recollection. Since you are Jean L'as, the late director general, the pity is I did not let the people kill you. You are the cause of the ruin of us all, the cause of my own ruin. Three days more, and I had been a major general. T had nearly the sum in actions ready to pay over at the right place. By our Lady of Grace, I am minded to run you through myself, for a greater villaln never set foot in France!” ‘“Monsfeur, I am about said Law. “Oh, you would leave us? You would run away?” *“As you llke. But most of oll, T am now very weary. I would not remain here longer talking. Henrl, where are you?" / The faithtul Swiss, who had remafned close to his employer all the time, and ‘who had been not far from his side dur- ing the scenes just concluded, was In a moment at his side. He hardly reached his master too soon, for as he passed his arm about him, the head of Law sank wearlly forward. He might, perhaps, have sunk to the ground had he lacked a supporting arm. At this moment there came again the sound of hoofs upon the pavement. There was the rush of a mounted outrider, and Spearman. to leave ‘succeeding, and in hi hard after him sped the horses of a car- riage, whose driver pulled up close at the curb and scarce clear of the little group gathered there. The door of the coach was opened, and at it appeared the figure of a woman, who quickly descended from the step. “What §s it?"" she cried. *“Is not this the residence of Monsieur Law?’ The officer saluted, and the few loiterers-gave back and made room, as she stepped fully into the street and advanced with de- cision toward those whom she saw. “Macdam,” replied the Swiss, “this is the residence of Monsieur L'as, and this is Monsieur L'as himself. I fear he Is takens suddenly 11" The lady stepped quickly to his side. As she did so, Law, as one not fully hear- ing, half raised his head. He looked full into her face, and releasing himself from the arms of his servant. stood thus, star- ing directly at the visitor, his face hag- gard, his fixed eyes bearing no.sign of ac- tual recognition. “Catharine! Catharine!” he exclaimed. “Oh, God, how cruel of you, too, to mock me! Catharine!” The unspeakable yearning of the ery went to the heart of her who heard it. She put out a hand and lald it on his forehead. The Swiss motioned toward the house. And even as the officer wheeled his troop to depart, these two again ascended the steps, half carrying between them a stumbling man, who but repeated to himself the same words: “Mockery! Mockery!"” CHAPTER XIIL THE QUALITY OF MERCY. Within the great house there was si- lence, for the vistas of the wide interior led far back from the street and its tumult; nor did there arise within the walls any sound of voice or footfall. Of the entire household there was but one left to do the master service. Y They entered the great hall, passed the foot of the wide stairway, and turned at the first entresol, where wers seats and couches. The servant paused for a mo- ment and looked inquiringly at the lady with whom he now found himself in eom- pany. “The times are serious,” he began. “I would not intrude, madame, yet perhaps you are aware—"' “I am a friend of monsieur,” replied Lady Catharine. “He is ill. See, he s not himself. Tell me, what is this fll- ness?" Madame,” sald the Swiss gravely, “his fllness is that of grief. Monsieur's fail- ure sits heavily upon him.” “How long is it since he slept?’ asked the lady, for she noted the drooping head of the man now reclining upon the couch. “Not for many days and nights,” re- plied the Swiss. “He has for the last few days been under much strain. But shall 1 not assist you, madame? You are, per- haps—pardon me, since I do not know your relationship with monsieur— “A friend of years ago. I kpnew Mr. Law when he lived in England.” “I percetve. Perhaps madame would be alone for a time? If you please, I will seek aid.” They approached the side &f the couch. Law’s head lay back upon the cushions. His breath came deeply and slowly, not stertorously nor labored. ‘How strange,” whispered the Swiss, e sleeps!” The Swiss looked still hesitatingly at the lady who had thus strangely come upon the scene, noticing her sweet and tender mouth, her cheeks just faintly tinged with pink, her eyes shining with a soft, mysterious radiance. She ap- proached the couch and lald both her hands upon the face of the unconscious man. Tears sprang within her eyes and fell from her dark lashes. The old ser- vant looked up at her simply. “Madame would be alone sleur?” asked he. “It will better.” Lady Catharine Knollys, left alone, gazed upon the sleeper. John Law, the fallure, lay there, supine, abased, cast- down, undone, shorn utterly of his old arrogance of mind and mien. Fortune, wealth, even the boon of physical well- being—all had fled from him. The pride of a superb manhood had departed from the lines of this limp figure. The cheeks were lined and sunken, the eye, even had the 1id not covered it, lacked the late convincing fire. No longer commanding, no longer strong, no longer gay and de- bonair, he lay, a man whose tats was failure, as he himself had sald. The woman who stood with elasped hands, gazing at him, tears welling in her eyes—she, so closely to his every thought for these many years — well enough she knew the story of his Bboundless ambitions, now so swiftly ended. Well enough, too, she knew the shortcomings of this mortal man befors her. Even as she had in her mirror looked into her own soul, so now she saw deep into his heart as he lay there, helpless, making no further plea for himself, urging no claim, making no explanations nor denials, no assevera- tions, no promises. Did she indeed see and recognize agaln, as sometimes glo- riously happens in this poor life of ours, that other and inner man, the only one fit to touch a woman's hand—the man who might have been? Did she ses this, and greet again the friend of long ago? God, who hath given mercy, remedy alone sufficing for the ill that men may do, he alone may know these things. Could John Law fajling be John Law most sublime suc- cess? Upon the wreck and ruin of the old nature could thers grow another and a better man? Mayhap the answer to this was what the eye of woman saw. FHow else could there '® come Into this great room, 8o late the scene of turbulent ac- tivities, this vast and soothing calm? How else could this man's breath come now so deep and regular and content? The angels of God may know, they who drop down the gentle dew heaven. An hour passed by. A sof® tread came to the door, but Henrl heard no sound, and saw only the prone figure of the sleeper, and beside it the form of the woman, who still held his hand in her own. Still the hours wore an, and still the watch continued, there under the mysteries of Life and of Love, of Mercy and of Forgiveness. And so at last the gray dawn broke again. The panes of the high mullioned windows were tinged with splashes of color. The pale light crept into the room, slowly revealing and lighting up its splendors. With the dawn there came into the heart of Catharine Knollys a flood of light and joy. Why, she knew not; how, she cared not; yet she knew that the shadows were gone. The same tide of peace and calm might have swept into the bosom of the man before her. He stirred, moved. His eyes opened wide, in their gaze wonder and disbellef, yet hope and longing. ““Catharine,” he murmured, “Catharinel Is it you? Catharine! Dear Kate!” She bent over and softly kissed his face. ‘Dear heart,” she whispered, “I have loved you always. Awake. The day has come. There is another world before us. See, I have come to you, dear heart, for Faith, and for Love, and for Hope!' with mon- linked &