The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1893-05-19

hand upon her
arm with a gesture that betrayed his
anxiety for her safety. At his touch
her face changed for a moment, and a
faint blush her dyed cheek.
You may well ask who / am" said
the Moravian. speaking in a voice
half-choked with passion and anger.
''She will tell you she does not know
me-she will deny my existence to
my face. But she knows me very
well. l am Israel Kafka."
The Wanderer looked at him more
curiously. He remembered what he
had heard but a few hours earlier
from Keyork concerning the young
fellows madness. The situation now
partially explained itself.
Il understand" he said, looking at
Unorna. He seems to be dangerous.
What shall | do with him?"
Leave him tt me-" she answered
imperiously. ''He will obey me-"
"1es," he said, in a low tone, which
did not express submission. leave
me to her! Leave me to the Witch
and to her mercy. 1t will be the end
this time. She is drunk with her
love of you, and mad with her hatred
of me-
Unorna grew suddenly pale, and
would have again sprung forward.
But the Wanderer stopped her and
held her arm At the same time he
looked into Kafka's eyes, and raised
one hand, as though in warming.
'.Be silent!" he exclaimed.
'And if l speak, what then?" asked
the Moravian, with his evil smile.
Il will silence you," answered the
Wanderer, coldly. Your madness
excuses you, perhaps, but it does not
justify me in allowing you to insult a
woman"
Even madmen are often Gained by
the quiet opposition of a strong and
self-possessed man. And Kafka was
not mad. He was nc coward, either,
but the subtlety OF his race was in
him.
II insult no one,' he said, almost
deferentially. Least of all her whom
| have worshiped long and lost at
last. You accuse me unjustly of that,
and, though my speech may have been
somewhat rude, yet may l be forgiven
for the sake of what l have suffered.
For | have suffered much"
Seeing that he was taking a more
courteous tone, the Wanderer folded
his arms and left Unorna free to move,
awaiting her commands, or the
further development of events.
"And are you going to charm our
ear with the story of your suffer-
ings?:n Unorna asked. in a tone so
cruel that the Wanderer expected a
quick outburst of anger from Kafka
in reply. But he was disappointed in
this.
NO" began Kafka, Il was not
thus favored in my nativity. The
star of love vas not in the ascendant,
the lord of magic charms was not
trembling upon my horizon, the sun
of earthly happiness vas not en-
throned in my mid-heaven. How
could it be? She had it all, this
Unorna here, and nature, generous in
one mad moment. Iavished upon her
all there was to give. For she has
all, and we have nothing, as l have
learned and you will learn before you
die"
He looked at the Wanderer as he
spoke. His hollow eyes seemed calm
enough, and in his detected attitude
and subdued tone there was nothing
that gave warning of a coming storm
The Wanderer listened. 9lfspteres>
ed and yet half-annoyed TTssahii& per-
sistence. Unorna herself Ne silent
still.
Israel Kafka spoke dreamily, rest
ing against the stone beside him,
seemingly little conscious of the words
that fell in oriental imagery from. his
lips.
"And love was her first captive"
slave. Yes, 1 will tell you the story
of Unorna's lie. She is angry with
me now. Well, let it be. 1t is my
fault-or hers. What matter? She
cannot quite forget me out Of mind
and I? Has Lucifer forgotten God?"
He sighed, and a ~momentary light
flashed in his eyes. Something in the
blasphemous strength of the words
attracted the Wanderers attention.
Utterly Indifferent himself, he saw
that there was something more than
madness in the man before him. He
found himself wondering what encour-
agement Unorna had given the seed
of passion that it should have grown
to such strength, and he traced the
madness back to the love, instead Of
referring the love to the madness.
But he said nothing.
so she was born" continued KAT
ka, dreaming IN. and nothing re-
sisted her. Neither man nor woman
nor child had any strength to oppose
against her magic. The wolf hounds
licked her feet, the wolves themselves
crouched fawning in her path. For
she is without fear-as she is without
mercy. Is that strange? What fear
can there be for her who has the magic
charm. who holds sleep in the one