The St. Cloud journal., 1873-06-19
that his boy would come to

near it sgain. He did not care to
koow how much it cost him to put
this obstacle out Of bis way.
The sounds on the street had died
into silence. In some room below ha
heard Knspp's mother grumbIing and
scolding, and Charley's uuwearied,
cheerful chockle in reply; then Tom
woke with the collie, and Charley trot.
ted to and fro-to and fro, carrying
him for hours, until all the house was
asleep and quiet. Long afterward,
Kenyon standing by the darkened win.
dow, saw Knapp 60 out into the gar.
den for a moments cooloess and rest
before he slept. He walked up and
down slowly. The stars had come out.
and threw family the lines OF the bushy
paths out from the darkness, massing
into unbroken shadow the houses to the
right. Beyond, lamp at masthead
here and there showed where the water
flowed. The little man, thinking him
self quite alone in the night, began to
sing some old tune softly in bis thin,
chirrupY voice:
Here in the body spent,
Absent from thee roam.
And nightly pitch my moving tent
days march nearer home"
There was q slight pause, and he
went on:
II want Z true regard,
single steady aim,
Unmovsd BY suffering and reward,
10 Thee and Thy great name"
Kenyon drew back. What dread.
tul Presence was this 80 near to COM
monplaoe Knapp, With his little body
and little soul, of which he knew moth.
ing? Kenyon's brain was teverish
and strained. A new, vague idea en.
tered readily among the thoughts that
racked him; the something above the
oight-above him, bis struggle or his
love-the infinite life before which
bis world Of rare books, aesthetic Dress
ing, and good eating sank into moth.
ingness.
Knspp went back into tho house,
and the night sank back into silence.
In the door of the little house in the
alley an old man stood looking up to
tho darkened windows of his sons
room. at is too late; he will never
come now"
Kenyon lay upon the bed, his eyes
covered with his hand. But he did
not sleep.
The sun vas not up. There was no
sign Of morning beyond the cold wind
that shook the vet trees to and fro,
and gray lightning of the banked
clouds over the river. OF all his un-
healthy, unquiet life, this night had
been to Kenyon the most unhealthy
and the fercest in its struggle. That
first cold wisd of dawn came with q
wholesome freshness. He sat up,
rubbed his aching eyes. 1t was time
to be done with shadows and to 20
down into the real world. He wiped the
hot sweat from his forehead and looked
about as man does after a sleepless
night, his eyes falling at last BY chance
on the opposite wall to his bed. he
had not thought the light strong
enough to throw shadow, but the re.
fection Of the drifting clouds made
strange shimmering figures on the
black surface. The cleuds-wbat else
could they be7 The shadows slowly
moved, approached each other, grew
compact. Kenyon leaned forward !;
one would almost fancy that they took
human forms. The strange illusion
annoyed him ; he drew down the cur.
tains over the windows; the wind
waved them ftfally. 1t was their
shadows that he saw now !; or was it
Good God what was this that faced
him, beckoning to him With strange
and solemn gestures, showing him
The blood ebbed back to his heart !;
he stood sti8ay erect, his hands behind
him, as he waa used to stand when he
faced an enemy in debate whom be
recognized as stronger than himself.
There was silence al over the city in
that last hour Of the night. The 81.
lence was nowhere more profound than
in this little chamber through which
the strange wind blew violently, yet
without sound!
What Kenyon saw in that room he
| never told. Whether his old boy g
life came back to him, or the life yet
to come, what truth was pressed home
| to his callo1sed scheming brain, 20 man
ever knew.
Death aud disaster meet man some-
| times on bis Journey, and bring him
for a brief moment face to face with
himself, his friend, and God. When
Kenyon left his chamber at dawn his
face wore the look Of one who volun.
tarily had met them and wreuched
their secret from them.
| He went down the garden and cross.
ed the alley. Seth was stopping owe,
the fire warming his chilled hands
He was going to his work. and did moi
mean to come back till Kenyon va.
gone. "He'd have come last night il
be meant ever to own me-" he told him
self again and ,again. "I'll think O
tho boy as dead now. Better we't
l -.