The Minneapolis journal., 1902-07-30
! WEDNESDAY EVENING, JULY 80, 1902.
Chapter discontinued.

1 i.
'.see there!' he said as the tribe set him
down. ''You have frightened the populace.
And Tom Meredith stopped shouting long
enough to answer: Its my little cousin,
overcome with emotion She's been counting
! the hours till you came-been hearing Of
| you from and others for a good while,
and hasn't been able to talk or think of any
! thing else. She's only Is, and the crucial
moment is too much for her-the Great Hark-
less has arrived. and she has fl" "
| He remembered other incidents Of his
! greatness, OF the glory that now struck him
4 as rarely comical: he hoped he hadn't taken
/ it. too seriously then, in the flush of his
youth. Maybe, after ALL he had been
1 big headed boy, but he must have bottled up
his conceit tightly enough, or the other boys
! would have detected 1t and abhorred him.
! He was inclined toa believe that ne had not
| been very much set up by the pomp they
made for him. At all events. that day at
! Winter Harbor had been beautiful, 5full OF the
! laughter of friends and music; for there was
a musicale at the Casino in the afternoon.
: But the present hour grew on him as he
| leaned on the pasture bars, and suddenly his
| memories sped, and the voice that was sing
ing Schubert's serenade across the way
touched him with the urgent, personal appeal
! that a present beauty always had for him.
| It was soprano, and without tremolo, yet
| came to his ear with a certain tremulous
| sweetness; it was soft and slender, but the
| listener knew 1t could be lifted with full
ness and power If the singer would. It spoke
| only of the song, yet the listener thought OF
| the singer Under the moon thoughts run
! into Dreams and he dreamed that the owner
| Of the voice. she who quoted THE Walrus
| and the Carpenter" on Fisbee's notes, was
! one to laugh with you and weep with you
! yet her laughter would be tempered with sor-
row, and her tears, with laughter.
| When the song was ended, he struck the
| rail he leaned upon a sharp blow with his
open hand. There swept over him a feel
ing that he had stood precisely where he
| stood now, ON such night, a thousand years
| ago, had heard that voice and that Fsong,
4 had listened and been moved by the song,
and the night, Just as he was moved now.
| He had long known himself for senti-
mentalist; he had almost given up trying
to cure himself And he knew himself Tor
a born lover; he had always been In love
| with some one In his earlier youth his af-
| fections had been so constantly inconstant
| that he finally came to settle with his self
! respect by recognizing in himself a fine con-
| stancy that worshipped one woman always
! it was only the shifting image of her that
| changed Somewhere Che dreamed, whims1-
cally indulgent of the fancy; yet mocking
| himself for i) there was a girl whom he
| had never seen, who waited till he should
| come. She was Everything. Until he found
! her he could not help adoring others VINO
possessed little pieces and suggestions OF her
1-her brillancy, her courage, her short up
| per lip, like curled rose leaf, or ner dear
| voice, or her pure profile. He had no recol-
| lection of any lady who had quite her eyes.
| He had never passed a lovely stranger on
| the street. in the old days, without a thrill
| of delight and warmth. If he never saw her
again, and the vision only lasted the time
it takes lady to cross the sidewalk from
| a shop door to a carriage, he was always a
little in love with her, because she bore about
her, somewhere, as did every pretty girl ne
| ever saw, suggestion, Of the far away divin-
ity One. does not pass lovely strangers in
the streets of Plattville. Miss Briscoe was
pretty, but not at all in the way that Hark-
less dreamed. For five years the lover In
him that had loved so often had been starved
| of all But dreams. Only at twilight and dusk
IN the summer when, strollins, he caught
sight of woman's skirt, far up the village
street-half- outlined in the darkness under
the cathedral arch of meeting branches-this
romancer Of petticoats could sigh true
| lovers sigh, and, if he kept enough distance
between, fly yearning fancy that his lazy
wandered there.
! Ever since his university days the image
| of her had been growing more and more DIS
| tinct He had completely settled his mlnd
| as: to appearance and her voice. She
| was tall, almost too tall, he was sure of that
and out of his consciousness there had grown
! sweet and vivacious young face that ne
| knew was hers Her hair was light brown
| with gold lusters (he reveled in the gold
| lusters, on the proper theory that when you1
fancy is painting a picture you may as wei
: 70 in for the whole thing and make 1t sump.
tuous), and her eyes were gray, They were
very earnest, and yet they sparkled ant
laughed to him companionably, and some
times he had smiled back upon her. The
Undine danced before him through the lonely
years, on fair nights in his walks, and ht
( came to sit by his fire on winter evening:
when he stared alone at the embers.
And tonight here in Plattville, he heard {
4 voice he had waited for long, one that hi!
tickle memory told him he had never heard
before. But, listening, he knew. better-h
had heard it long ago, though when and hoV
he did not know, as rich and true and ineffa
bly, tender as now. He threw a SOP to hi
common sense Miss Sherwood is littl
thing. (the image was SO. surely talD witt
4 a bumpy forehead and spectacles. he said t.
himself "or else provincial young lady wit
4 big eyes to pose at you' Then; e-felt tn
7 ridiculousness of looking after his common
sense on moonlight night IN June; also, u
knew that he lied! -
Z The song had ceased, hut the musician lin
\ gered, and the keys were touched to plaintiy
q harmonies new to him. He had come t
Plattville before HCavalleria Rusticana" wa
a sung at Rome, and now, entranced, he hear
the 'tIntermezzo'' for the first time. Listen
i ing to this he feared to move lest he shoul
wake from a summer nights dream. .
T. ragged little shadow fitted down the pat
u behind him. and from a solitary apple tree
tstandang like a lonely ghost in the middle c
q the field, came the woo #of a screech owl
twice. 1t ives answered-twice-from a clum
Eof elder bushes that grew in fence .corne
4 fifty yards west of the pasture bars. The
the, barrel of a squirrel rifle Issued, lifted ou
q of the white elder blossoms, and lay alon
81 the fence The music in the house across tn
way ceased, and Harklessg saw two whit
dresses come out through the long parlor win
dowS to the yeranda. 81 --=--. - #-..a.
lit will be cooler out here" came tn
voice of the singer clearly through the qufe
"What a night" Ia e... q. .5.,
AJohn vaulted the bars and started to eros
the road. They saw him from the verands
, and Miss Briscoe called to him in welcome
AS his tall figure stood out plainly in tn
7 bright light against the white dust, a strea
of Are Ieaped from the elder blossoms an
there rang out the sharp report OF rif'
There were two screams from the verandf
. One white figure ran into the house. Th
other, little one with gauzy wrap stream
ing behind came fyine@s,ut into the moon
J iight-strafght to Harklels There was
second report; the rife shot was answered b
a revolver William Todd had risen VI
a apparently from nowhere, and, kneeling
the pasture bars, fired at the flash of the riffs
Jump fer the shadder, Mr.. Harkless." I
Y shouted; "he's In them elders" and ther
: Cod' e kp