Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1902-05-10
CHAPTER XXV-Continued.

HOW L got feQen stopped ana how or
khere 1 dismounted 1 never knew. 1 know
that 1 heard the sound of womans
voice somewhere and it seemed to me call
ing Rupert's name-but indeed every hing
swirled away in such nightmare of con-
fusion that 1 could be sure of nothing.
i remember stumbling down the steep
slope, holding to the stems of chance
planted young trees, and cutting and bruis-
ing myself against stones till, before l was
aware, 1 stepped knee-deep into the cool
rush of the water.
That brought me to myself, though for
while l could see nothing. l could
hear the clatter of a horses hoofs on
the hard road, growing fainter every
moment. l could through the silhouette
of the leaves the tall and gloomy single
arch of the bridge black against the sky.
1 called on my brother by name. But
the trees gave back only the word
Rupert The woman's voice 1 did not
hear again, but once when l was re-
turning it seemed as if 1 heard, very
far off, a sound as of young child cry
ing
/ CROPPED along the waterway, great
powders Obstructing me at every step
and the swirl and surge of the water al
most taking me off my feet.
Yes-there he was, He was lying limp,
half in and half out of the water. How
he had fallen 1 could not see. But L
feared the worst, because the upper half
of his body was not wet. Therefore he
must have fallen on the stones.
With infinite labor at last | got him
to the side and used what means 1 knew
of for his recovery but for a long time
without effect / laid him down and
loosened his waistcoat. There was no
wound. only a suspicious pliancy about
the region of the ribs. / dashed water
on his face and chafed his hands. l left
him for a moment and ran toward the
lodge. and half way there before
remembered that my father had turned
away the late tenant, his head wood
forester, only the week before and that
the house was empty Therefore, being
able 10 do nothing better, l had perfOrce
to betake me back to my brother. L
found that he had certainly moved dur
ing my absence. For one thing. his hand.
which had been by his side when l left
him. was now under his head. holding 1t
as if TO subdue an intoleTable pain.
1 spoke to him again. and In the SLOW
coming light of dawn l saw him open his
eyes slowly and look a me.
DO not move, Rupert, said. You
have had an accident-been thrown from
your horse at the Green Dock. Lie Sill. L
will so for Warner when YOU are little
better. and 1 can get you better cstab-
lished.
Where is Kate" he whispered, perfectly
clear and audibly.
"Kate?" / cried, in astonishment What
Kate
"Kate-my WIFE was the astounding
reply. To me astounding at least, for L
knew my brother-or thought l did.
''kate-your wife, | cried again. think
ing more. 1 fear. of the fact which his
words revealed than of the presence or
absence of the woman he asked for.
Yes. Kate" he exclaimed, testify. call
her. will you? She was here moment
ago. Do not contradict me. l saw her, l
tell you. l am going to die. Truth sits
sf l,-tr, /
have something to say to her. Cali herr
1 murmured that he was mistaken, as
indeed | was sure he must be Though L
certainly would have taken my oath had
seen a wlite figure in the arch of the rub
berry pathway. But l judged it best TO
temporize.
she is not here. Rupert 1 made answer.
BEST let me go for Warner ! daresay L
can catch either of the horses!
Il do not want Warner-I have done with
Warner he said Would TO God that l
had never seen him, | want Kate, l tell
you-cdn her, My father cannot separate
us now"
And to satisfy him, L actually climbed up
again and called the girls name this way
and that But of course all In vain. Moth
ing responded save the solemn murmur of
the water over its boulder-strewn bed far
below the dry. scdly rustling of the dead
leaves under foot and of the dying ones
still clinging to the branches overhead
never knew what a creepy place plain
Scottish wood may be till the night l spent
Dock.
Rupert appeared a little more contented
after 1 told him that most certainly Kate
was not there.
Law me higher on your shoulder. john"
ne said. in a strange. dreamy. faraway
voice. II think l have been mad AT any
rate | have dreamed long and wicked
dream. Perhaps / am about to come out OF
It, John. | want you TO forgive me. know
Kate will. l am not very anxious about
that. But | want you to ma her ana 40
her justice. / married her-Warner. the
surge on. ard her sister were the witnesses.
We got the chaplain from the barracks TO
come for the wedding You Will be the
heir now. We have arranged that But DO
not let her want anything. My father
knew and was trying to get the certhcate
and a remuneration of all claims On me-
That was what l was waiting for tonight
But something must have detained him!
He wandered off again. murmuring scraps
Of love talk and faint, half-uttered tender
ness
Course-at the old place, / will meet you
We will send word 10 Fairlie
II struck me that it would be well that
i should know where the girls We're, and
/ asked him. But either his faculties were
rot clear. or else CLEAN of his old elfsh
spirit flashed up in his eyes
''Ah, you would like to find that out
wouldn't you? Oh i knowi Fairlie Glen
DINING is all our joy. WE'LL shall not
tell youi
How then can help Kate?" l said.
He came to- himself at the words.
''Yes-yes." he murmured. Il must tell
him Ny father will try to spirit them
away again. / say. john he will want you
to marry Miss Carslaw, the heiress. now
She is fve-and-thirty, and has red nose.
All the heiresses / ever saw had But
Warner and 1 have queered that game!
Take care, John, that do not queer yours,
too Don't let go my pocket book. though.
You will find that there which will keep
Warner quiet If he is inclined to make
trouble.
He laughed his low, musical laugh.
Put your hand into my other pocket.
believe 1 have broken my flute" he went
on mo. not on that side-the other! Not
that ii matters. am not going where they
play much upon harps anyway
| drew il out and gave 1t into his hand.
NO. he said. lit is all right. 1t is not
broke-only my ribs Flute whole-bones
gone, Praise be TO whatever divinity pre-
sides over these things-I will compose a
hymn to that unknown god. Perhaps he
may help me where l am going"
Rupert set the flute to his lips and out
of that pit of darkness with only the whit
ripple of the water as 1t purled against a
stone or glanced sideways for the root of a