Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1898-12-08
CHAPTER XIII.

CHAPTER XIII
A man on horseback appeared at the
head of the road leading from one of
he cup shaped hills to the fazenda Ri
province of Rio Janeiro. He wore a
hort, white coat and nankeen trousers
blue scarf, loosely knotted, showed
few inches of darkly tanned throat. A
vide leafed straw hat, evidently of
Brazilian manufacture, was pulled over
lis eyes. Even in shadow the eyes were
Enthusiastically Donald Sefains.
He pulled in his horse and remained
ost in a study of the scene, while the
unlight of Brazilian January bathed
him in an intense flood.
On every hand as far as the eye could
zee the land was PROSTATE under the
gtare of a pitiless sky. There was no
shadow near him save that of his horse
md his own broad hated figure. Half
way down the hill one bushy headed
palm and the prongs of some cacti lay
patterned sharply on the bare and daz-
ling earth Below, in the middle dis
ance, he saw the fazenda, the ugly fac
DRY, the unsheltered square and cluster
f outbuildings. Behind him lay the
waving line of hills on which the coffee
Ihrubs fourished and from which the
soft, monotonous chant and quavering
If the negroes came to him
This scene made his life-the coffee
bearing hills, the unsheltered road lying
between them. Ugly, arid, lonely, were
he words that rose in his mind as he
oaused there. The very truth and force
pf the artist in him made his heart rise
n hot revolt. Hatred and longing were
n his steady gaze.
In few moments another rider came
but Of the plantation and drew up be-
tide him. Ho was big, fair haired
nan, his light blue eyes a strange anom-
lily in his SIENNA brown face. When he
spoke, his broad, musical accent con-
ured vision of English fields on
spring morning instead of the hot.
slothful land blazing around him.
Waiting for me, Sefain?'
mo, was thinking. knew you'd
Follow"
The Englishman looked at him, hest
lated and at length spoke:
"Sefain, you re making hard fight
here, aren't your" He asked the ques-
ion abruptly as they moved on at "a
crawling pace.
"Why?" and Donald's uncommuni-
cative soul, aroused to interest, looked
for a moment speculatively from his
brilliant eye.
sob, can see it. You hold your
tongue better than any man I've ever
net, and I've knocked about bit in
5his contrary world. But know you
Ire simply sickening for sight of home
and some woman.
The words sent dark flush up Don
lid S cheek and his silence was cold.
"Fact. But don't suppose I'm trying
30 force your confidence, my boy He
laid his hand ON Donald's wrist. 81
speak this way, because-well, because
m deuccd sorry for YOU
You're wasting your pity then.
What the devil do you mean? One
would think I'd been playing the part
bf sentimental fool. +"
LII uIliSO LIEU lOO buO
[nglez' quarrel and set a bad example to
these brown beggars here" and an inn
perturbable smile distended Armitage's
full cheeks. II haven't finished I'm
sorry, and I'm envious at the same time.
God To be not yet 30 and in love- To
know the world-only in one pair Of
eyes and comprehend heaven in the
Touch of five slim fingers. What would
lot give to feel this, tell myself fond
y was fool and be glad was! Hug
your misery, my boy. Be such fool.
Some day, maybe, when you're like me
and not living thing is really neces-
Bary to you, when you know only the
sleek and deadly level of practical self
content, you'll remember and wish the
ongings which tear you now could
come again and hurt you. That man
pnly is blest whose happiness depends
upon another human being"
Donald looked at him in amazement.
He had never heard words like these
from Armitage. They touched him too
Over his lean, brown face dreaminess
stole, and just as they crossed the fam
ike shadow Of the solitary palm upon
the roadway he moved his companion S
hand from his wrist and gripped it.
"Armitage, he said, reused for the
moment ont of his self reserve, 81 al
most wish, then, you could love wom-
IN as miserably, as passionately, per-
haps as hopelessly, as do She is the
lesire of my life and its greatest good. .
Il knew it. The signs never fail
And now want to talk to you. We
might as we'll here as at the fazenda
Why don't you sell out to me or to
Morgan, take what you've made and 60
homer
"Home?" echoed Donald, unable to
Fepress the note of hope and yearning in
his voice at sound of that sweet word
'Why?"
"Do you think this''-with con-
temptuous gesture toward the group of
low, tiled roof buildings and the bare
land-''pays for the pain in the heart?
q Gov tho ,popav Won ynaka if's NOT