The Bourbon news. [volume] (Paris, Ky.) 1895-19??, 1897-12-24
CHAPTER III.

stainless skies of vivid blue, a dazzling
ribbon of white surf, red sandstone
cliffs, and, in the foreground, field of
cloth of gold embroidered lavishly
with millions of yellow peoples.
Here. "a hours later, / found the
sanctuary, the home of the Gerards,
comfortable, red-tiled cottage, encom-
passed with broad verandas, lawns,
strawberries and groves of cypress and
cucalypti.
The faithful Greek, Demetrius, re-
ceived me. My first impressions of
this remarkable man are worth record
ing. In his physical aspect could find
no clew to his character. He stood be-
fore me a colossus, impassive and i'm
pressive, reminding me, absurdly
enough, of the Matterhorn as 1 saw it
first from Zermatt. How sharply that
grim peak pricked my fancy! And yet
it's profile alone was visible. The love-
illness of the lower slopes, the glory Of
gorge and glacier, the horror of
crevasse and precipice, were shrouded
with shadow, obscured by distance. I
knew from hearsay what lay between
me and the summit; but between the
Greek and me, between experience and
ineXperience, was an abyss not lightly
to be bridged.
"Glad to see you, sir" he said, re-
spectfully. There was no trace of q
foreign accent. 81 had my masters
telegram, and your room is prepared"
He led the way to a comfortable
apartment, simply but admirably fur
nished, and began to unstrap my valise.
"Sit down." said, abruptly. 81 have
something of Importance to tell you"
I briefly recited my adventure with
Burlington. Demetrius listened atten-
lively, his lower lip protruding, his
heavy eyelids lowered. When 1 had
finished he refrained from comment,
but inquired politely as to the state
of his masters health. l shook my
head.
HE is extremely nervous; almost
completely broken down."
The Greek touched his own grizzled
locks.
Neither master nor man can stand
it much longer" he said, gloomily.
Would you like to see Mrs. Gerard?
She is in the parlor."
1 washed face and hands, and De-
metrius brushed from my clothes the
dust of southern California.
How long, Demetrius, have you
known Burlington?"
Twenty years."
At the name a sinister CLEAN illu-
mined his heavy face. That he hated
the enemy from the bottom OF his heart
was plain to be seen.
''How was it," [ continued, "that he
entirely escaped suspicion? l did not
like to press the point with Mr.. Gerard"
I'm the west, sir, there is prejudice
against Cinnamon. Mr.. Burlington was
editor of the Black Gulch Banner. He
said at the time that the murder
couldn't possibly have been committed
| by a white man. We hanged Fong, a
| peddler of garden-stuff."
''Horrible!"
can easy DEATH" said Demetrius.
I'm sorry they didn't hang me. The
life I've led for the last few years is not
worth living"
Its the life. of your choice" re-
piled, bluntly.
He spread out his hands, betraying
| for the first time the foreigner, and
| shrugged his massive shoulders.
From these gestures I,was at liberty
to infer what 1 pleased. A curious ap-
prehension quickened the action of my
heart. Was 1 destined to 1 dis
missed my fears with an effort, and fol-
lowed Demetrius to the threshold Of
the parlor. He pulled aside portiere,
murmured my name, bowed and re-
treated.
| l was alone with the mistress of the
house.
The contrast between the outward
and visible peace of my surroundings
| q noted many books, a piano, piled high
with music, some valuable meZZo-tintS,
chintz draperies, bowls of roses,
| sleep-compelling chairs) and the
tumult of my mind made me stammer
like an awkward schoolboy; but the
kindly welcome of Mrs. Gerard soon dis
PEELED my embarrassment. Upon her
gentle face were the lines of a great
sorrow, but a sorrow so chastened by
time and fortitude as to convey to the
observer a pleasing rather than pain
full impression. l soon learned that she
had the incest appreciation of what
was good-brave deeds, kind words, en-
nObling books-and a lavender-scented
prejudice against evil. No longer a
beautiful woman, she was distinguished
in appearance; her figure was still
youthful, her carriage erect, her eyes
| limpid blue beneath arching brows,
and he hands, the hands of a gentle
woman, long and slender, the skin soft
as satin and cool to the touch. Upon
the palms of these (this L discovered
later) were innumerable faint lines,
crossing and recrossing, the symbols of
a thousand cares, and representing
against her family a debt of love which
nothing could eXtinguish. She wore,
l remember, a dress cunningly fash
Toned out of gray cloth; the soft neutral
tint emphasized agreeably her per-
| SOualitV SuppeStinp a subtitle conn