The representative. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1893-1901, 1899-10-05
THE ONLY WAY


combe, tho famous actor manager. sat
breeding over the nre. The study lamp was
turned low. for he found . dull light in
variably assisted his meditations, and he
was particularly anxious to arrive at some
definite decision upon q perplexing question
that faced him that evening. The sudden
illness of both an indispensable member OF
his company and the understudy had left
him in a serious dilemma, for who could
replace the absent player? 1t was part
that required special and peculiar abilities,
and he had already mentally licked on the
names of a dozen or SO men as being quite
unadapted for the vacant role, when he
heard the sound Of some one rushing up the
stairs. He started and rose to his feet,
for his family had long since retired to
rest.
"Quick! Vice me: they'e coming!" A
man had swung open the door, closed it
after him and burst into the room pant
ing and out Of breath, his hair disheveled,
and bright CLEAN in his eyes.
What's the matter?' Queried Hurcombe,
hurriedly. How did you get here?"
The visitor hesitated, and looked at him
queerly.
The door was open, they were after me,
and ran in. They say I'm mad. but I'm
not. BY God! I'm not mad! Not mad yet
yeti" And he burst into scream of
laughter which would have been heard all
over the house had not the room been
sound-proof. Hurcombe had had 1t made
so purposely, as he now remembered to his
CONSERVATION.
ANY fool could tell that" replied the
actor. coolly, with the air of one receiving
an expected visitor. but there's no occa-
sion to hide. You're as safe here as-as
anywhere"
Again the man looked at him queerly,
detecting with the sharp wits Of lunacy
the double entendre in his words
''Sir, believe you; but you don't know
what I've been through. Mad! They
would wish me mad! They've yearned for
It, prayed tor 1t, but I'm not mad! Tell
me. I'm not mad!"
He had drawn closer to Hurcombe who
took advantage of the change of position
to edge nearer the electric bell. which, if
he could but reach, would arouse the house,
hold.
my dear sir, I've already told you you're
laboring under delusion in supposing any
thing wrong with your mental balance Sit
down moment and I'll get you some re-
freshment; you're tired. doubtless" And
he went to open the door. but it was locked
Hurcombe glanced back at the man. His
only reply was cunning smile which over
spread his counrenance.
Il see you've taken the trouble to fasten
the door," said the manager. That's as
velour conversation will be more pri-
vate." And inwardly trembling, he lit
cigar and sat down.
you've something to tell me, of course?"
said Hurcombe presently. He knew all mad
men had stories to relate. and that it
humored them to listen. 1t was also a
method of gaining time.
"Yes Do you know what it is to love-
to hate?"
The actor smiled. He did-on the stage
ITO love is to hate" continued the noe
turnal intruder, who, following Hur-
combe's example, had drawn up a chair to
the fire opposite him. II have both loved
and hated. A year ago l worshiped the
most beautiful woman I or any man ever
set eyes upon. l woOed her. We were mar
ried and settled down in the country to
Joyous existence, for 1 had enough to keep
us both in comfort in a modest way NY
wife adored me, and we were as happy as
the days were long till he came upon the
scene"
The mailman glared at his host as if
the object of his vengeance sat before him
In the flesh.
HE was handsome, fascinating with a
thing before him, and broke hearts as
easily as you or 1 would knock down nine
pins; and my wife fell with the rest One
day l had been to village a few miles
of. reaching home just after dusk Muriel
did not run TO the gate usual to meet
me, and l mad dim, haZy perception that
something was wrong.
Il ran upstairs into every room s,ur Mu-
riel was not there. Our servant was out.
l could not question her. but when l
entered the diring room I noticed = scrap
of papet' lyiI ( the table. I took il up
eagerly: it simply bore the wor:ls Good.
bye and was in his handwriting. How 1
cursed him!
Had Mu1 el written the note, it woul(;
have been different; but that he should
pen those words-what mockery! Like
one demented I cursed everything; 1 called
on Heaven to strike him dead, and thf
woman too-my wife.
''Sir, IL l have ever been mad, I was
mad at that moment. The room confined
stihed me- I Clinched my hands and could
have torn Gown the very walls with nv
finger Lails lad superhuman strength;
II needs have been, 1 would have lifted the
world a:c furled it at my wife ard her
lover.
Rushing out of the house, saddled
my mare anu RUE OH. IL was LONDON
that they had gone to; the last train had
left couple of hours since, and there
was not another till the morning. To wait
was impossible 1t was more than 40 miles,
but l. should not be long after them
Edward Hurcombe. absorbed in the mans
narrative listened intently, almost forget
ting the whole thing was the invention of
a mailman. How graphically he described
the scene why couldn't lunatics be ac-
tors?" he thought.
THAT ride 1 shall never forget" con-
tinued the other. ION 1 flew, urging my
horse furiously. A devil seemed behind
me, and cried: On! on to the betrayer! On!'
I laughed as though the notion was splen-
did joke, it tickled my fancy SO. On!
on! The hedges swept past me. the dust
rose behind me in clouds The villages ran
by my side like some moving panorama,
and the stars peered out in the heavens. 1t
was Saturday hight, and l passed through
a busy town. The main street was crowded,
but flew by. A little child rushed across
the road. and my horse trampled it under
his hoofs But could not stop. On! on!
whispered the devil, what matters a child's
life? Presently, when l reached the open
country again, my horse stumbled and fell.
1 was thrown to the ground. My horse
was dying. I wept, for l loved that mare.
Muriel used to love her, too How often
had her dainty hands caressed her sleek
and glossy coat! My journey was ended, it
seemed But. no! horseman came riding
heedlessly upon us, for the night was dark