San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1891-12-24

on Jhe panel ecnOeu loudly out into
the hall. Swiftly and silently Unorna
closed the entrance and locked it
securely.
He is safe for a little while" she
said. "Keyork will find him there
when he comes, an hour hence, and
Keyork, will, perhaps, bring him to
his senses"
She had gained control of herself,
to all appearances, and she spoke
with perfect calm and 1elf-possession.
The Wanderer looked at her in sur
prise and with some suspicion. Her
hair was all falling about her should
ers, but saving this sign, there was
no trace of the recent storm nor the
least indication of passion. If she
had been acting part throughout,
before an audience, she would have
been less inherent when the curtain
fell. The Wanderer, having little
cause to trust her, found it hard to
believe that she had not been counter
feiting. 1t seemed impossible that
she should be the same woman. who
but moment earlier had been drag
glng herself at his feet, in wild tears
and wilder protestation of her love.
If you are sufficiently rested" he
said, with a touch of sarcasm which
he could not restrain, Il would sug-
gest that we do not wait any longer
here
She turned and faced him, and he
saw now how very white she was.
$50 you think that even now I
have been deceiving you? That Is
what you think | see it in your
face"
Before he could prevent her, she
had opened the door wide again, and
was advancing calmly into the con-
servatory,
Israel XafkaI" she cried in loud,
clear tones. Il am here-I am wait
ing-come"
The Wanderer ran forward. He
caught sight in the distance of a pair
of fiery eyes and of something long and
thin and sharp cleaning under the
soft lamps. He knew then that all
was deadly earnest. Swift as thought
he caught Unorna and bore her from
the hall, locking the door again and
setting his broad shoulders against it,
as he put her down. The daring act
she had done appealed to him, in
spite Of himself.
Il hog your pardon" he said, al
most deferentially. II misjudged
you"
ut is that" she answered.
Either will be with you or l will
die, by his hand, by yours, by my
own-it will matter little when it is
done. You need not lean against the
door. 1t is very strong. Your furs
are hanging there, and here are mine.
Let us be going"
Where will you go?" asked the
Wanderer. \
with you" she answered, laying
her hand upon his arm and looking
into his face as though waiting to see
what direction he would choose
"Unless you send me back to him."
she added, glanoing quickly at the
house and making as though she
would withdraw her hand once more ~
'If it is to be that | will go alone"
There seemed TO be no way out OF
the terrible dilemma, and the Wanderer
stood still in deep thought.
If You are in your right mind, >" he
said at last, beginning to walk toward
the corner, ''you will see that what
you wish to do is utterly against rea-
son. | will not allow you to run the
risk OF meeting Israel Kafka tonight,
but | cannot take you with me- No
| will hold you, if you try to escape
me, and will bring you to a place OF
safety, by force, if need be-.
"And you will leave me there, and
shall never see you again.
The Wanderer was perpleXed. He
saw, however, if he would yield the
point and give his word to return to
her she might be induced to follow his
advice.
IF IprOmise to come back to you,
will you do whatI askP" he inquired.
"Will you promise truly!'
Il have never broken promise
yet"
did you promise that other woman
that you would never love again,
wonder? If so, you are faithful in
deed. But you have forgotten that.
Will you come back to me if let you
take me where | will be safe to-
night?"
Il will come back whenever you
send for me-"
Ii you fail, my blood is on your
head
''Yes-on my head be it.
Very well. will go to that
house where | first stayed when l
.ame hare. Take me thare nmicLclu-