The Delta independent., 1897-02-17

recover his breath while she gathered a
handful of the rhododendrons.
did it tire you?" she asked.
"No. not very much. wasn't think
ing of that. was trying to bring myself
to the point of telling you something
that you ought to know"
"Is it about yourself?"
"Yes."
She sat down beside him to arrange
the flowers. II am listening" she said,
encouragingly.
The opportunity had come, but
Thorndyke trifled with it. DO you
know why came to Alabama ?" lie be-
gan.
"Why. yes; It was on account OF your
health, wasn't it?"
at was; but did you know that my
case is quite hopeless?'
II knew you thought il So"
81 still think so-the doctor as good
as told me it was; and yet, do you
know, that Just now feel that under
some circumstances l might win my
way back to health and strength
again."
THAT'S the way you ought to feel all
the time; it's more than half the battle"
Thorndyke remembered Protheroe's
words and wondered IL he had repeated
them to Elsie. II suppose should, but
! can't. 1t was Just rs you lifted me
over the edge of the rock; it seemed as
IL you gave me Q new bold upon life out
Of your abundance. Queer. wasn't It ?"
This was not at oil what he bad begun
to say, but the words chose themselves.
Its astonishing what retrospective
field the mind will cover ut q pinch,
isn't it? Now, in that half second while
you were helping me I got n telescope
glimpse Of my whole life, and it's al
ways been the same way-some one has
pulled me up over the hard places before
l could even try to do for myself. And
it's taken the color out of everything:
there hns never been anything left
worth living and fighting for; II there
had been might be able to make some
show of resistance now"
"I'm afraid I don't quite understand
you," she said. II thought everybody
had something to live for"
II presume most people have; and in
my own case the unchariteble might say
something about sour grapes. That
wouldn't be true, though; il wasn't
until know l couldn't live that cared
much about It. And there Is every rea-
son TO suppose that, with the fear Of
death removed, life would go back again
to the eame old dreary round and be
more undesirable than ever"
She rose and fastened the bunch of
rhododendrons in her belt. do you
really mean to say that you have no rea-
son for wanting to live? Would nobody
he sorry If you died?"
Thorndyke killed his opportunity
with one blow. "Yes, there may be
some who would be sorry; perhaps yon
would care q little. But that is entirely
"a different matter; I'm not good enough
to want to live to oblige my friends, nor
bad enough to want to die to spite them
Let's go and find the Pocket you were
telling me about"
1t is an open question rs to how liter
ally the most sincere person can afford
to be taken in a conversat.on which
bears upon his own personality. Doubt
less Philip meant to say what was in
him at the time; nevertheless, repent
ance came afterward, and with it more
good intentions. While Philip the scl:-
estimated was as little like Philip the
real as might be, yet there was unde-
niably m accusing conscience which
the self-known Philip sought to muzzlc
with the fiction that the afternoon was
still young. Unfortunately, however.
opportunities for the saying of reluctant
things do not grow upon every bush,
even upon n sequestered mountain top,
and Philips conscience wns still unap-
Peased when, an hour beyond the rhodo-
dendron, they came out upon the rim
of a crater-like valley cutting n deep
cash in the mountain. Itwas clliptical
in shape. with wooded sides slanting
down from the base of the cliff line to
Q small cornfield in the center; but there
was NO sign Of house, nor Of any road
leading down from the level of the
plateau. A clear stream gushing from
beneath a fiat bowlder at the foot of the
southern slope splashed riotousIy
through the length Of the valley, to van-
ish again into the mouth of q low
browed cave at the base of the northern
cliff.
''The happy valley Of Rasselas, with
the inhabitants left out" said Thorn
dyke. "Is this the Pocket?"
"Yes; the DEVILS Pocket, the noun
taineers call it."
"Why 'devil's'?" asked Philip.
"fm sure I don't know; father says
it's because some people like to name
things after their patron saint"
That's q quaint idea; but the name
fits rather better in this case than II
usually does. There is always some.
thing suggestive of the weird and un'
canny In q valley that has no visible out.
let. How docs the man who hoes that
corn ever get down to it?'
''Oh, there arc several ways to gel
down, though not very many people