The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1899-04-16
to whom he could speak. Bellairs, moved by

X.
compassion, went to him, and finding him,
indeed, in a serious condition, delayed his
Journey, and remained nursing him until he
was convalescent when he took him to Eng
land with him, and his old valet leaving him
to open an inn,s took him into his service
finally.
johnson had remained with Bellairs ever
SINCE and it would have been hard to find
more devoted attendant than he
From the first entrance of Alured into his
SICK chamber, where his coming had seemed
to- bring fresh life to the man. Johnson had
taken to him.. little kindness, little per-
sonal inconvenience had bound to Alured's
service, heart and body man who would
ever be ready and willing, were the necessity
to arise, to place them both at his masters
service, for johnson felt and perhaps truly,
that ne would have languished in lonely
death in that inn in Greece had it not been
for Bellairs' thought and care of him after
he was so unfeelingly deserted by the master
whose plans he had upset by his illness.
He had a salver in his hand containing let
tiers as he entered and Alured took them from
him rather YEARLY
The first he opened was a letter from his
grandmother, reminding him of his promise
to return to Wander Hall for the partridge
shooting; the others were invitations and
friendly notes. The last letter Bellairs open
ed with faint curiosity for it was not in
handwriting that he knew, and he wondered
from whom it might be, for it was written in
an uneduca ted, Scratchy character, and the
paper was painfully glazed and scented. AS
he read his face grew full of panied grief,
and when he had finished he rose energetic
ally to his feet.
Johnson he said to the valet, ct must
be in England tonight. if possible. I will
have bath and some breakfast and then I
must start for Dieppe-that will be my quick
est crossing. I wish had known sooner; If
you cannot be ready you must follow me-"
Nothing wrong, sir, I hope, with my
lady?" asked Johnson.
NO, a friend of mine is dying, and the let
ter has been sent on from London to Wander
Hall, and now here; and I fear I may be too
late" said Alured, sadly thinking aloud.
johnson left the room to give orders for
his masters breakfast and then returned to
assist him at his toilette.
Alured felt unhappy as he read and re-read
the letter. 1t from the landlady of a
lodging house in Bournemouth, written at the
request of one of her dodgers who was dying,
and who begged Bellairs to come and see
him again in the recollection Of their boyish
friendship.
Alfred Verelst and Bellairs had been school
friends at Elton, and from thence had gone
to the same college at Oxford, where their
friendship was still as strong, and continued
till Verelst got a commission in crack regi-
ment and got mixed up with a fast lot.
Bellaire had expostulated with him; but
like many approximations in similar cases, it
had been the beginning of the breach which
was windened by Vereist's connection with a
light comedy actress in one of the garrison
towns in which he was stationed.
He had privately married her, and gambled
to find the money to supply her expensive
tastes, for he was only cadet Of his house
and by no means wealthy. BellairS had
helped him as mich as he would permit
when he fell on evil days; but he was too
proud to allow his troubles to be suspected,
and at last he disappeared.
Bellairs had often wondered where he was
and if he were still alive; but the letter he
received today enlightened him on that point
1t also told him that his friends wife had
deserted him as soon as be found himself I'M
md hod roin Cd
her first husband a member Of the same
company in which she acted, to whom she
had been married before going through the
ceremony with Verelst, and who had officiat-
ed as her father on that occasion.
Bellairs upbraided himself as he read the
pitiful confession fer not doing more to help
his friend; but, indeed, what more could he
have done? He had done his best at the
time Verelst, hear tbroken and disappointed
in his dearest hopes. had grown hard and re-
pellant and desired neither help nor sym
pathy, but simply to seek some sombre
place where he could hide himself and his
an who deceived him. But now, broken and
dying, his heart yearned over his early
friend, and the piteous appeal for affection
he had sent out touched Alured to the very
heart.
Each must unravel the tangle of his own
destiny until the thread leads to the portal of
Death, and, with the best will in the world
to help. no avert the falling of mis-
chance from another unless it is decreed. Yet
Alured's heart was heavy as he thought over
past days. pacing the deck of the steamer
and impatient to reach Newhaven. He Won
dered whether he should find his friend alive
whether he should be in time to press his
hand and look into his eyes with the deep
look of friendship before they were. closed
forever. He knew the passage was being
made quickly as possible, but it was
Violently A sudden thunderstorm had come
and gone almost as quickly as it came. but