The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1891-08-06
THREE GLIMPSES,

| for light from my cigar"
"Y GU have good memory for faces, SIR"
II have; though in this case no better than
yourself"
''But had reason for observing you, for
l was to meet a man L did not know by
sight, and asking for light was merely
signal. My cigar was not really out"
Il observed as much when the ash fell off,
and eyed you narrowly in consequence"
Did you, indeed! Then the wonderment
diminishes.
"Will you take a cigar"
Thanks; and if you wish to return the
| favor of year ago-a light"
1t was a summer night; the two men had
| casually entered a restaurant on Union
| Square when n mutual glance of recogni-
| tion had led to the foregoing dialogue.
The first speaker he who had had the ap-
| polntment on the bridge, was a man in the
| prime of life, and one who would have been
remarked for his handsome appearance in
| any gathering of male beauties. An ingra-
| tlaung smile played about his mouth. an air
OF comfortable assurance prevailed his per-
| son. his eyes moved leiSurely, as if in eXpec-
| tatlon OF customary gOOd news, suggesting
| ready disposition to share any favors the
| gods might Serd him-a man whom ninety
| nine out of hundred would trust at sight,
| and despair of their senses when they found
| themselves betrayed.
The other could make no pretension to
good looks; yet his was a good face, an in
telllgent face, conspicuous by a pair o:
| heaVy eyebrows, pale complexion and an
| expression which seemed wavering between
| sadness and merriment. He bore signs
| OF rough usage, but none of defeat. Hora-
| uo-lke perhaps, he had learned TO take for
| tunes Bullets and rewards with equal
| thanks. HIS inferior attire, smooth-shayen
| face, when taken in connection with the
| almost historical haunt where We find him,
! would have led any one to describe him for
| Just what he was-an actor.
. can't help thinking, none the less"
resumed the first who had rather forced
| the conversation, that it is most surpris-
| ing coincidence, our meeting again in this
| fashion and recognizing each other?' And
he turned look of deep inquiry on bis new
| acquaintance.
Don't you?" he added emphatically, to
| provoke an expression of opinion the actor
seemed dubious of venturing.
The gentleman shrugged his shoulders,
shot tunnel Of smoke from his lips and re-
piled:
My opinion is that there is more method
| IN the chapter of accidents than we are ever
| likely to give the author credit for. | have
almost ceased to believe in the thing called
| chance. There is a divinity which shapes
| our ENDS, rough hew them how we nav
| excuse me quoting, it Is 4 way | have got
| but talking OF our meeting year ago and
| remembering each other now reminds me of
| curious experience l had about that time
| and will Illustrate my point. Bv the Way
| 1t IS small boast of mine that l never for
| get face, and sooner OF later can Invariably
| place it,"
Il, for one, am not disposed to challenge
| your faculty."
The actor acknowledged the compliment,
| Win wave OF his cigar, and continued:
-" We'll, sir, within three months | had
three glimpSes of girls face, each by the
Verlest chance, as you might well say; for
lew seconds of time. few feet of space,
and the opportunities would never have ex-
listed. Yet those three occasions were three
links in tragedy"
The professional man tilted his chair back
| against the wall and prepared to begin,
fragments OF their discourse had caught
the interest of several bystanders, so his i'm
mediate companion was by no means the
| IhespianS only auditor.
| % was standing on Broadway with some
| old comrades in art-funny | don't see any
OF them here to-night-lingering to hear the
last oil pretty good story. the climax
was good one and l wheeled sharply
round, doubled up with laughter, and ouly
| Just succeeded In checking myself in time
| to avoid serious collision with a lady and
| gentleman on the middle Of the sidewalk.
raised my eyes and was about to, but have
mlsglYings that l failed to raise my hat
| But had ample excuse for then got my
| hrst glimpse at the face | am telling YOU
about All! what glorious face it was.
| trlZZed over her forehead. Great blue ewes
full OF original sunshine, happy as love
| could make them. | went my way some
| thing richer for peep at that face | tried
| To compute the benefit that girl could confer
| by just walking up 4 principal thorough
| fare. l caught myself murmuring Words
| worth before | knew it;
Her hair was fair, oh! very fair
Her beauty made me glad.
But, after all, what was she to me? l
| soon ceased to think of her
1t must have been tive or six weeks later
| when, rushing uptown on business, found
| that string Of horse-carS on Broadway had
| caused block on Twenty-third street. In
| my haste L was lodging 10 and fro for an
| opening 10 squeeze by the carriage which
STOOD upon the crossing, when movement
| OF Its solitary occupant caught my eve and
| again revealed TO me-yps. gentlemen. the
same young lady indeed, but not the same
face. 1t would be difficult to tell you by
what details L knew it again for 1T was
| colUrless and inanimate. 1t was still beau
tifuI, but wore an expression simply appaiI-
! Ing IN the depth of its despair. Such a
| changed had fancied that face the garden
| playground of love and hope, it had become
IN comparison desolate waste. The golden
| hair remained, the large eyes were there.
| but the look Of dumb wretchedness. of sup
| pressed terror that glowed in them, made
| me shudder and forbade the question what
| might be the cause. Next moment the block
| WAS TeiltVeu, Tue carriage rolled aWaV and
| l pursued my own affairs.
| " almost wish | had not begun this tale.
| for the end is painfully sad. 1t was, if /
| remember rightly, two or three weeks later
| that l was returning one fine moonlight
| night from Staten Island with a boat-load
| OIL passengers, 1, as usual, riding at the
stern. We had just made our South Ferry
moorings. and the usual rush had only be-
| gun at the other end of the boat. when a
voice cried out, Look there, it's a woman
| Turning back with the rest | looked down
| into the water, and there, bobbing about on
the choppy waves, with her poor dead face
| toward the moon, l saw her again. She was
not so much changed this time. KNEW her
| at once, but probably would not have done
so but for that glimpse L had OF her in the
| carriage"
Killed herself, suppose" said one
| listener.
Did you ever find out who she was ?" in
| CURED another.
Yes, did"
He who had first asked for the story
seemed too impressed to offer remark.
| Il lelt 1t personal duty to follow the
| body to the morgue. There found she was
| being described as belonging to the poorer
| class, and small wonder for She was d reSsed
in rags Then told what | knew and ad-
vised that she should be mentioned as of
| good family though disguised in common
| clothing. This hint secured her identifca-
| ton. Her parents and brother came, though
lney suppoSeu Her visiting friends in the
| West. The family were very grateful to me
and volunteered little of her history. 1t
| was the common one. During their absence
she had become acquainted with black
| guard who robbed her of money, Jewels and
her honor He persuaded her to conceal his
name and identity and. worse luck, she
| loved him and was faithful to him to the
END, though how much he had to do with her
| death is uncertain.
4" There we're two things at the inquest
That struck ME as strange. First, the
| d octois could not be positive that she died
| by drowning. Second, Teddy Lannan, boat
man, identified the body as that of one of a
! couple who had hired boat for a row, but
had never returned. His boat was picked
| up, capsized, two days after the inquest
He did not think it strange that a woman in
rags should be going for pleasure row,
| and then said he did not notice she was in
rags. lie could not describe her companion,
| Inn II IA;