San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1891-12-15
savors OF the deathbed. "

Small wonder, when my life is in
the balance"
Your life?" She uttered the
question incredulously, but not with
out curiosity.
My life-and for your word" he
answered, earnestly.
We must understand each other
today or never" she said. Either We
must part and abandon the great ex-
periment--ior, if we part, il must -
abandoned
We cannot part, Unorna"
Then. il We are to be associates
and companions
Friends" said Keyork in low
voice.
Friends? Have you laid the foun-
dation for a friendship between US?
You say that your life is in thu balance.
That is a figure of speech | suppose.
Or has your comedy another act!
can believe well ea3ugh that Ssur
greatest interest it, life lies thu e upon
that couch asleep. knc~ thai you
can do uothing without me. rs you
know il yoa'seIi B4t 10 your friend
ship 1 CT" usser grust--never!
My accursed folly" he exclaimed.
as though speaking to himself. My
Gamaable ingenuity in being oaious.
1t is not to be believed. that man
OF my age should think of one thing
and say anoth7r-like Cetchy girl Or
spoiled child. The stupidity OF the
thing! And then to have the idiotic
utterances of the tongue registered
and judged as a confession of faith
or, rather, of faithlessness! A fool TO
the last, Keyork, as you always were
and who would make friend OF such
a fool?"
Unorna leaned upon the back of the
chair watching him, and wondering
whether. after ALL he were not in
earnest this time. Suddenly. he
stopped, looked at her and came to-
ward her. His manner became very
humble.
You are right my dear lady," he
said. ii have no claim to your for
bearance for my outrageous humor.
| cannot even ask you 10 forgive me,
for If tell you am sorry you will
not believe me-"
His voice trembled and his bright
eyes seemed TO grow dull and misty.
LET this be our parting" he con-
tinued, as though mastering his emo
ton. Il have no right to ask any
thing. When | have left you, when
you are safe forever from my humors
and my tempers and myself-then, do
not think unkindly Of KeyOrk Arabian.
+ He would have seemed the friend he
is, but for his unruly tongue"
Unorna hesitated a moment, then
she put out her hand, convinced of
his sincerity, in spite of herself.
Let bygones be bygones, keyork, "
she said. You must not go, for l be-
lieve you."
You are as kind as you are good,
Unorna, and as good as you are beau
tiful," he said, with u gesture which
would have been courtly in man Of
noble stature, but which was almost
grotesQue in such dwarf, he raised
her fingers to his lips.
Il must be going" she said.
$50 soonP exclaimed Keyork, re-
gretfully. There were many things
had wished to say to you today, but
if you have no time"
Il can spare few moments" an
swered Unorna, pausing, What Is
it?"
Zone thing is this" His face had
again become impenetrable as n mask
of old ivory, and he spoke in his or
binary way. This is the question.
| was in the Teyn Kirche before l
came here. While there. ! met an
old acquaintance OF mine. strange
fellow, who have not seen for years.
He is great traveller wanderer
through the world. His name? II Is
strange, but | connot recall it. He
is very tall, wears a dark beard, has
a pale, thoughtful face. But l need
not describe him, for he told me he
had been with you this morning.
That is not the point He is little
mad, poor man, that is all. IL struck
me that, If you would, you might save
him. l know something Of his story,
though not much. He once loved a
young girl, now doubtless dead. but
whom he still believes to be alive, and
he spends-or wastes-his life In
useless search for her. You might
cure him of the delusion."
How do you know the girl Is
deadp"
She died in Egypt four years ago.
answered Keyork. There is no con-
vincing him, and il he wero really
convinced he would die himself L
used to take an interest in the man,
and know that you could cure him
in n simpler and safer way"