The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-07-21
he flung himself into chair against the wall and sat motionless.

the wall and sat motionless.
 He was a mere lad, not above twenty, decided, on considering him more attentively, boy with light, shining hair, fair complexion, and a girlish delicacy of feature; faint yell low moustache alone testified to his manhood. He was dressed in light colored tourist suit; there was noth- ing remarkable in his appearance, nothing to distinguish him especially from any other fresh young fellow abroad on his travels; but something in his attitude as he sat without move- ment in the chair into which he had flung himself, arrested my attention. He sat with his legs stretched out, his hands thrust into his pockets, his head dropped on his breast. His face, which should naturally, imagined, wear the pink -and-white complexion proper to fair-haired youth, was empty of even tinge of color, his brows were drawn together; he looked miserable, overwhelmed, desperate; I might, I conjectured, have been losing money in some bet or game of chance -a man who has left his fortune at a gambling table might wear inst such an expression. Twice I thought of addressing him. but was deterred by his complete unconsciousness of my presence and by my ignorance of his nationality; for I had no better skill in languages than an imperfect knowl- edge of French and still more stum- bling acquaintance with German. I finished my coffee, therefore, in silence, and as he still made no sign, took up my hat and silently left the room.
 On my way through the hall, &C., costed the gray-haired head waiter, an old man, grown old in the service of the inn, and asked him if he knew anything about the young fellow. He was an Englishman, the man answered and opened the visitors book to show me his name. His name was there, Charles Holmes of Foxholme, Surrey, England, and Magdalen college, OK ford; he had arrived the previous night; he had come from Frankfort he was on his way to Brussels-all this inscribed with boyish love of de- tail in a round boyish hand. He was fellow w-countryman, then, and alone apparently for with the exception of my own name, none other of English nationality appeared on the list for many days back. His pale look as he dropped into his chair passed before my eyes. Almost turned back into the little parlor to speak to him; and l wish l had-I wish to heaven had all might have turned out differ ently. But the indomitable stupidity and reserve of an Englishman stood in my way, and instead of going back I addressed the waiter again. Had there been any quarrel, I inquired, among the guests at the supper table that evening? He shrugged his shoulders. "Possibly-possibly," he said; he had heard raised voices; he had not been in the room. These gentlemen (meaning the otficers) often had disputes among themselves. No one thought much about it; it was no ones concern but their own."
 left the man, and started on an evening walk through the town, be- fore retiring to rest. It was already dark, warm and starless August night; the sky, heavy with one cloud that spread from hill to hill, seemed to weigh upon ones head; now and then drop of rain fell; I could see the sultry splash on the dusty paving stones by the light of an occasional oil-lamp flickering here and there. A street led from the old market place down to a steep, one-arched bridge that spanned the river, and connected the town with the opposite heights
 l crossed the bridge, then returning on my steps, stood leaning on the para pet looking down upon the river re- vealed through the darkness by it's slow onward rush, and by the rare lights reflected on it's black surface.
 A belated barge came swinging down stream, its lantern sending long yell low gleams across the parting water :; it passed and was lost in darkness be- yond. Lights shone from the clus-
 tered gables from the darkling town. Close at hand, on the river bank, & girl sat at an upper window mending a stocking by the light of candle set on the sill. The flame hardly moved in the heavy air; it lighted up her fresh young face, her yellow braids of
 hair and busy hands. So she had sat many night before, so she would sit for many night to come; but 1.-the thought passed through my mind should have no consciousness of her.
 For between her and me it would be , always night.
 l I fingered, remember, on the 7 bridge; it was one of those hours be. 3 coming rarer with every day oi travel, that hold in them some reali- s ration Of fresh and atranUe smproo.