The Pioche weekly record. [volume] (Pioche, Nev.) 1877-1900, 1894-08-30

ness OF LatOur 5 violence and insult: with
candid praise for the fame he had won
in his new service; and with most deli.
cate intimation that, if his memory of
his early love was not really dead, he
might wish to find its object once more.
Latour again folded the letter care
fully, placing it in his inner pocket.
He was absolutely sure that Dale
Everett was as equally ignorant of the
base suspicion he had harbored of the !
wronged woman as that they had ever
met and spoken in the garden.
His decision had been made as calmly |
as irrevocably on first reading Dale's let !
ter. There had been no question of it;
his duty to himself, to tho true woman
and noble gentleman he had so injured,
demanded that he should seek them
now, striving as best he might to atone
for his past.
But stronger than duty was his awak-
ened love for the sweetheart Of his boy
hood-the love he himself had SO long
believed dead, not sleeping; that only
last night he had boosted to another was
buried deep and still as the Memlook
caliphs in their tombs!
With Latour, to decide had been to
act ever. He stood in that still moon
light, ready and determined to start
upon the quest for his spirits Sangreal,
as had been that older and less sinful
Launcelot.
With the earliest streak of dawn he
had gripped Ahmed Mustafa's hand,
mounted his horse and was riding slowly
toward the station of the Northern rail
way. As he rode near the Mosque ell
Aksar ere yet the first ray of the sun had
gilded its lofty minarets, from one of
them flOated the muezzin's note of its
advent to the faithful:
"Allah il Allah! Mohammed resoul il
Allahw
And that call echoed through the
chamber where Edith, Lady Martindale,
lay calm and still upon her bed, as
though love and sin and remorse had
never been. 1t sounded clear into the
chamber near, where her husband heard,
springing from bed as the sound of Sir
Roger Arnyffe's rap blended with its
solemn cadence.
Lord Martindale had been detained
long at the British consulate general.
at is my duty to make this a national
matter, my lord" her British majesty's
representative had insisted on hearing
the facts of the capture. "Much as you
may desire to avoid publicity, I must
report the details to the foreign office"
Cant stop the wheels of diplomacy,
suppose" grumbled Lord Martindale.
"Might be worse, though. Devilish
lucky not to be in America, you know.
Those newspaper fellows would have
twenty different versions already in as
many newspapers, really! Some COM
fort in d slow country, after all!''
But at last, escaping the consul gen
eral and refusing the protfered services of
the dragoman, the anxious husband
started for the hotel, walking rapidly
thrOug' the crooked and narrow streets.
But, swift as was his stride, the English
mans thoughts were still more rapid,
reviewing the near past and trying to
comprehend its punishment for him.
He not only admired his wife, but loved
her with the deep passion of sluggish
nature when walked to feeling; and her
insistent return to demand for sepa-
ration panied him more than the taunts
and insults she had heaped upon him
that morning.
But, with all that, no shadow of jeal
ousy clouded the perfect trust he re
posed in her. Whatever her whim o.
imperious temper during the ten years
she had been an acknowledged leader
and envied beauty in London society, NJ
| faintest whisper had been heard in an!
quarter against Lady Martindales per
5 feet discretion.
) Suddenly the houses seemed strang
l to him; the street was narrower, and h
noticed that more than one of the over
hanging balconies quite bridged it. Fl
was at the Turkish quarter of Cairo
| With agony of helplessness he realize'
| that he was lost in city of the dumb
+ but what must be thought of his sic
wife had she walked meantime, and ne
ticed his long absence from her side
|
he turned, pressed round many to-
tuous lane, suddenly hating to mop h
brow, with great sigh of relief, as tn
/ Eybikieh showed before him.
J Five minutes later he had bounded u
the stair and passed softly across h
} wife's sitting room. The lamp upon IL
stand was turned low, but Resin
4 against it was folded square of pape
5 addressed to him in his wife's writing
| Tearing it open Lord Martindale read:
/ Do not wake me, my husband, but if you To-
me take me away at once, Cairo is hateful to Il
:, after today! Forgive me all my waywardness
my taunts On, Herbert, take me home and
G will never ask to leave you again. EDITH.
Il The great, sturdy fellow read the'
e lines over and over, through suspiciol
|. moisture in his eyes; with great lun
/, in his throat
IS "Husband Herbert! The first TIN
l. she has used those names for months
II he said aloud. Poor child! how h
If pride muat have suffered to bring co
fession! But she loves me the sam
d thank God! Go? Of course she sha.
= first train, by Jove!"
1t He dived deep in his pocket, drew o.
his MURRAY" and scanned the train Ii
II eagerly, muttering:
{ Gum, UNI! G:10 a. M; yes, that W,
Vt do Plenty time to pack after dawn"
is He stood irresolute moment, his fla
g glorifed almost into beauty by the rat
S. ance of II new born joy. Then he soft
ar raised the portiere of his wifes rooi
d The stiffness of death was there, brok'
% only by the heavy, regular breaths of t
lie English maid sleeping profoundly on
l. near divan. Only reflection from t.
Il brilliant moonligh lit the ROOM Throw