The Irish standard., 1897-02-13
q proteesson that phiiip could give hin

d proteetsoa that Philip could give hin,
went Tor nothing.
..Then there IS only one other thing
70 do. said Philip, when be had ex-
hausted his eIoquenee in the effort to
convince KiIgrow that no harm should.
come to him; you'll have to give me
the power Of attorney to sign deed for
you. Where is the nearest notary out
side Of Allacoochee, Mr. Duncan"
Duncan caressed hi. stuhbly chin land
considered. There's auld Judge Garry,
down at Glenco," he suggested.
Glow far is that from here?''
"It's mafr than good saxteen miles
round by the valley pike, but I'm think
in it's no that far across the mountain.
How is that, Johnnie, man?"
81 reckon hit amt more'n ten mile
th'oo the gulch."
Thorndyke looked at his watch. care
you good for the tramp, Mfr. Duncan?
TIL need witness"
Duncan signified his willingness to
go, but it was with great difficulty that
they persuaded the old mountaineer to
trust himself within sight of the rail-
way. When he finally yielded. they
took up the line of march to the south
ward, with Kilgrow leading the way.
After threading the forest OF the
plateau for three hours or more, they
began to descend into deep ravine.
and Philip heard the murmur OF rum
ming water long before they came in
sight Of the swift stream g1rgling
through 1eafy tunnel at the bottom OF
thegorge. They stopped at the margin OF
the brook while Thorndyke got drink.
"Your mountain miles are good
measure, Mr.. Kilgrow," he said, taxi
ing out his watch again. GLOW much
farther is II?
The old man lifted his hat and
scratched his head rehectively with one
finger. II reckon hit mought be bout
two sights an horn-blow f'om yere."
Philip laughed and turned to Dun
can: "1'm afraid you'll have to trans
late that for me-"
"Ye'll be mono the wiser when I do.
an then as far as we can see beyon'
that; an horn-blow-that's as far as
ye can hear the scrawin' O q coos horn
frae the far end O. the second sight.
D. We ken the noo?"
Perfectly" said Philip. II hopc
we'll get there before dark
They did, but it was afternoon when
they came to the end or the third di-
vision of distance and saw the scattered
houses Of the little village on the rail-
way. Judge Garry's house was pointed
out by passing tea1rster, and Philip,
going in for informa ton, found that
the Judge was in Allaeoochee, but was
expected home at five o'clock. They
waited, Duncan with Scotch resigna-
ton, the mountaineer with an indiffer-
ence born Of long practice in the art OF
doing nothing, and Philip with truo
Anglo-Saxon impatience. When the
Judge made his appearance, the busi7
ness was quickly Dispatched, and Dun-
can and Kilgrow started on their re-
turn over the mountain, leaving Thorn
dyke to go to Allacoochee by the even
ing train.
The train was due at eight, and while
he was wearing out the second period
OF inactiou on the porch of the tavern
where he had eaten supper, Philip was
able, for the first time since the finding
of the deed, to go back to the events
which had immediately preceded that.
piece OF good fortune. He had Helen's
letter in his pocket, and he read it again
in the thickenipg twilight. It was a;
good letter, after all, he admitted; ser-
sible and practical, and showing forth
in every line the nobility and true
heartedness of the writer. None the
less, she should have known--shc would
have known, had she really loved him
that her proposal could be accepted
only on the condition he had imposed
that single sentence of warm affection
from her at such time would have out
weighed all the acts of sclf-abnegat ton
that could be crowded into a lifetime.
And yet he could not help wishing that
he had not been so prompt to return
cold forrnaIity for kind-hearted COM
mon sense. She would doubtless he
glad enough to be free-oh, that, Of
course; but he might have been as
frank and informal with her as she
had a right to expect him to be-as
their long friendship and engagement
demanded. And just here a brush from
the nettlc of shame stung him. How
could lie ever hope that she would at
tribute any but the basest motive to his
letter when she learned the truth about
Elsie? Would she not always accuse
him in her heart of having been glad of
the pretext afforded by his loss for
breaking openly an engagement which,
had been long ignored in secret? He
was sure she would, and he checked
himself ilnpatiently when he found
that he was setting the contempt Of
the woman he had asked to release him
above the love of the woman who had
saved his life.
That thought brought back to him
Elsie and the present. Had she really
saved his life? Was it quite beyond
doubt that she was the one woman in
the world who could lead him out of
himself into a sphere of usefulness and
accomplishment? 1t was by no means
as clear and well-de1ined as it had APP
pearcd to be on that day when he had
sat up among the pillows and fancied
himself inspired. Nevertheless, as he
had accepted the help. he must a bide by
the choice Of that day-and he would,
come what might. ....
No matter which way it turned. the
= - L. IL