Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1885-12-05

L ii.
| pendent income; the best opening for you would
| be petition In bankruptcy. However, I have
three months leave, and that is so much to your
| "Well, I'm generally here in the evenings"
| replied Lund, smiling At the vivacity Of his
| companion.
"Of course You are. but now I'm going to bring
| you up with u round turn. In the first place,
| we start in half an hour for the opera, where
| have the entree of Lady Pamela's box; and be-
| tween the acts you shall go behind the scenes
| and be presented to the Diva: and, as you are a
woner n you cot OF o
| sup with her. You are sadly deficient in the
discipline and civilization which only woman
| can effect and you couldn't do better than
be2in with the Diva. Number two--to-morrow
Tor next day. for you'll want TO sleep all day to-
| morrow)-day after tomorrow, then. we start
| on a Journey
"Ajourney?" repeated Lund looking up.
"A Journey, pilgrimage, n campaign, or
places on the coach and days jolting, more or
| less, will bring us to our destination"
"And what is that?''
"AIl in good time. I'm not going to unfold
myself any further at present. But YOU shall
see some wise fellows and, which is more,
some householders, and, which is more, as
pretty a piece of flesh as there is between this
and Tom o Greats; and one that knows the
law, go to: and rich fellow enough, go to-
handsome about her. Come away! and ii do
not show you good reason forget not, when
| time and place shall specify, to write me down
| an ass
"A travelling booth would suit you better
",
| further about the journey; but as for tonight
Give me. tonight" the other exclaimed,
answer for -. HuIlo! by Jovev'
| There had been a crash. The cane had struck
| the Venetian vase and knocked IL Off the man.
telpiece, and 1t lay on the floor in irremedable
| fragments.
., %l,m awfnlly sorry, old fellow" said Austen.
That's As one happens to feel replied Lund.
but it had lived TO "a good age, and very likely
| 1t had served its purpose
| ".
"Let's get out and stretch our legs" said Aus
/ ten couple of days later. "If / were the king
I'd make cOnvicts ride all day in stage coaches.
And you are even worse than usual. / believe
| IN my soul you're in love with the Diva.'
| IL would not presume-until the rest have got
| through" Lund answered
Then what the deuce makes you so mum?
Any one would swear you were Matching SON.
net
well, the fact is I'm puzzled" said Lund.
"PuzAled? Oh, about our destination. Curl
Not at ALL Perhaps could tell you more
about that than you could tell me-"
Been down here before then-eh? Oh. you
Wrong again. was never in this part of
the country since / was BORN
Then what are YOU diving at?'
well, for Instance "A dozen times to-day, you
have said something that l knew you were
going to say before you spoke
monotonouse Thanks! If / used my tongue
as little as you do, might contrive TO be more
original
Nonsense, Austen. 1t was the same with the
oshers-the driver, the guard, the old lady on
the back seat. recognized them all, and re-
expression be allowable. And this old posting
house: ii had lived here I, month il could not
be more familiar To- me-"
Austen stared doubtully Ut his friend, and
mysteries, he said.
iii give you test then. I'll tell you the
nt4.Ir cad
this post.
lay you five to one. cried Austen quickly
II, would only be taking your money. \
white mare with black ,;.il and ears
White mare with black ears and-I'il give
you ten. ~ give YOU twenty, by Jove! Twenty
Lund shook his head. Lets go to the stable"
Said he.
They sauntered across the road and found the
stable at the back of the house.
There; You can see Tor yourself remarked
Lund, quietly. And. III iact the hostlcr was
Just bringing out the animal which he had
described.
Austen gazed at the mare and at Lund, and,
for once, he WAS silent. DO YOU give me your
word o. honor there's no game in this:' he de-
manied at length.
Il have told you what know. How 1 know
IL Know no more than You.
Austen whisiled and walked round the mare,
examining her. "fhe near leader, isn't sill?''
he said To Tie hOStier.
.'Sne. sir? M, sir. The near wheeler she be -
replied the man.
Austen glanced at Lund and raised his eye
brow$. YOU'RE mortal after air.
should be rather glad than otherwise" he
replied,
Syonh ave tn put er On ill front this trip. The
bay gone lame
Right, sir, responded the hostler
Austen ana Lund returned to the coach in ST.
fence. 1t must be a coincidence, You KNOW
the former broke out finally. "How do you ac-
count tor it,
Il think it's the Venetian vase said Lund.
Now, then, gentlemen exclaimed the
eoachm an. coming put oi the house and wiping
no hi h.
jump IN! W here are The others.''
AT any rate, its no: u coincidence" Lund
muttered To himself as they took their places
The whip cracked and they were off again
Austen, with the sense oi PERSONAL indlgnity
that some persons feei AT being confronted with
anything they cannot explain, settled himself in
his corner, and for the most part said nothing"
Lund was also tacturn, but for other reasons
From his boyhood he had experienced mysteri-
Gus phenomena, generally OF a subjective order,
and had become in manner accustomed to-
them; but they had been brief and incoherent
voice had spoken to him in solitude;
sometimes, when he had sat alone in
not being altogether alone; sometimes the
Image OF an absent friend would strongly i'm
press itself on his mind, and within two hours
he would either have met that friend or re-
ceived a letter from him. Once, as he entered
the college lecture room. he had seen the figure
OF his father standing on the lower step of the
platform, regarding him earnestly: as he
advanced, surprised TO speak to him, the figure
had vanished; and Lund; returning home i'm
4
dead from a stroke of apoplexy. His tempera-
ment inclined him to cultivate chiefly those
paths of medical science which lead to the
obscurer regions of physiology and pathology
and TO the problems of the influence of the
mind on the body; but the dogma of spiritism
had not, at this period, declared
itself, and Lund would in any case have
shrunk from associating himself with such a
movement. His was a profoundly reverent
nature, and he would not voluntarily call in
the assistance of his bodily senses to penetrate
the mysteries of a future state. His constitu-
ton was delicate and sensitive, though uni
formly heaIthiul. His life was more mental
than physical He had never condescended to
grossness, in deed or word. On the other hand,
however, he could scarcely be called religious
man. He could not reason from man to God,
and he was unwilling TO assume God in order
TO explain man. Like many others, therefore,
his morality was IL matter of taste and fastidi-
business rather than of charity and faith 1t
was an anchor OF clay, which held well enough
while the waters were calm, but was liable TO
give way in q storm.
But the dream. or vision, or whatever it was
that had preceded the appearance of Austen
and the present expedition was unlike any for
mer experience. 1t was connected and cumu-
| iaiive, and the manner in which its prognostics
were being realized inspired mystic excite
ment III Lund; he could not think that this
| should occur except us the fOrerunner OF some
important and effective event to himself. 1t
wrought in him a secret pride, one who was
was being led by supernatural guides to the
accomplishment of . destiny. Under such cir
cumsiances, he felt absolved FROM the neces-
| hpr of