The Providence news. (Providence [R.I.]) 1891-1906, 1893-09-05
CHAPTER I.
!, 1t was the day after Tom Murray's re-

tolt.
He sat alone in his top floor dormitory
et table ranged with old letters, dusty
books, cravats, gloves, a few faded bou-
tonnieres, theater programmes and dog
cared manuscripts roll upon roll. A small
trunk, half filed. stood on the floor be-
uide him and received his wearing appa-
rel and books as he pitched them in in
discriminately.
Tom was not tidy. Cleanliness Of per-
SON and a certain homage to fashion were
matters of religion with him, but he
could notlive in an orssrly room to save
his life. This alone might have betrayed
bis Celtic origin had it not markedly
shown itself in appearance and tempera-
ment.
The thick hair growing closely over his
Forehead was black as astrakhan and as
waved. There was striking unftness
between his moody blue eyes and swarthy
Akin. Dreamy, yet remarkably compre-
hensive in some moments, were those eyes
bf his and at other times almost Opaque.
Something said OF done could make the
bupils expand, q little door seem to open,
Emitting brilliant, blue flash, then dis
treetly close and the shadow fall again.
His mouth was like brave woman's,
hull and finely curved, and his merry
bmile showed teeth as white as a negro's.
IA stalwart, youthful figure, square shoul
hers that staggered as he walked, easy
ktrides that carried him untiringly for
long distances, told of a wonderful re-
berve Of strength. He was the Irishman
bf Milegian antecedents without a touch
Be the pale Saxon to blur the type. AL
though American born, there was proba-
bly, hisdouble among the estrapping young
hshermen throwing their nets off the
coast Of Galway.
A warning sun ray shot across his eye
lids and flashed beyond him like needle
bf gold, piercing the dusty dimness Of
the room, before he turned the key in
The trunk.
''It's getting late. There's not min
hte to spare" And pulling out his watch
he gave o kick to the chair beside him
where he had flung the long sleeved al
paca gown and Oxford cap WORN by the
theological stndeAts I'm Chelsea square.
There lay TIE whole story Of his re-
volt. He had( thrown them off.
Not for an hour, nor for night, to
lind them awaiting him in the morning,
but forever. Until yesterday he had
worn these things as the insignia of a
holy calling. They were no more to him
how than is o scepter to the king who
has abdicated.
Poor old dad! He did want to see
me in the pulpit. The picture / had
kaken in these togs-how he loved it'll
We'll, it's all over for me. Goodby has
been said to every one. It's all over for
him too. / couldn't pain him 80 if he
were living"
He started up and took turn around
the room, his eyes softening with feel
ing.
III wonder If he knows I've cut it all
surplice and psafter, fasting and pray
ing. wonder If he cares-noww And
Tom thought Of a newmade grave in
western state.
'Perhaps heknows better than could
have told him in life," and he felt his
heart swelling, s'that wanted to please
him, but couldn't--couldn't do it-be-
cause of the something within me that
Rugged and protested and pleaded. Per-
haps he knows"
i The depression was short lived.
Laughter closely follows signing when
cne Is only 20, clean Of heart and con-
hcience and blessed-or cursed maybe
with the mercurial temperament, the
gay irresponsibility that in crisis Of
life slips SO easily into plausible kind
bf selfshness.
Tom gave q vigorous shake Of his long
begs and commenced brushing his hair
ks If his life depended on getting ont its
obstinate wave, whistling as he worked.
To be sure, he had very little of his fa-
ther's small patrimony left, and very
misty future stretched before him, but
the world was brighter today than it had
been in years. He need do violence to
his inclinations no more. 1t was all end
ID now--all that life whose demands his
koul had resisted, under which his rebel
lious heart had strained. How he had
hated the monotony Of it! He a preach
sr. when he so loved the world and the
Ahings thereof! What a mistake 1t had
Aeenl
During the two years spent in the old
college hidden in q green, far western
Corner Of Twentieth street he had formed
mo friendships. He was that marvellous,
isolated being, q college man without a
chum. Tho interests of his companions
|were necessarily clerical. His thoughts
had been elsewhere, his burning desire
centered upon success, but by path
that wandered far from the hush and
banctity of the church.
And yet there were some things Of the
life renounced which the artist in him
lwould miss. The fow of music in the
little chapel--how often he had likened
the quivering intensity of those rich or
gan notes to the throbbing Of his own
lunsatisfed heart-the altar sparkling like
Ian opal under the candle light on saints
days; the twilight that met one softly in
)the secluded paths while the chimes rose
In happier peals as the darkness deep
ened. Yes, the memory of these would
REMAIN with him forever.
4. - n n - =. A.