The Western news., 1903-10-21


said; 1T is with what he has done
that l have to deal. Three months
ago Rosetta and l were happy in the
thought OF passing our lives together
She danced and sang the whole day
through. Now she weeps-she turns
from me-she will hear nothing OF
marriage. This l owe to the signore
The debt is heavy"
Willis now moved uneasily. The
pathos Of this statement, simply made
planted certain sting, and his mind
engaged in rapid reconstruction OF
the past, accused him of cutting q
poorer figure than he cared to admit.
"Montanarf." he said. upon my hon
or there has been no-wrong-only-''
II know that" interrupted the other
with passion, "else the signore would
not be standing there-alive. Yet, he
mistakes-there has been wrong. Ro-
setta is spoiled for her own people
her simple home. She has become q
dreamer of dreams The Mother of
God knows how it will all end"
well, what are you going to do?''
Willis cried. Whats the use Of ban
dying words?" He had opened the
little penknife in his pocket, resolved
that his adversary should not go un-
marked.
The signore is at least brave
man. For one chance Of life would he
swear to leave Rome?"
And the chance?"
To cross, by the plank, to the other
side of the dome"
In spite of himself the young man
drew back. A sudden paralyzing fear
came over him. Two boards had been
tied together by the workmen and fixed
across the opening in the dome They
spanned an aperture nearly three hun
dred feet from the marble floor of the
church; and this was the bridge he
had been invited to traverse To even
contemplate such passage seemed
suicidal.
Willis glanced down at the lights
glimmering on an altar far below. AS
he looked, procession of priests
crossed the nave, their chanting mel
lowed by distance. The sound recalled
him to the necessity of action; re-
stored his self-command. Turning, he
measured his antagonist with his eye.
There was no reinsurance in the sight
of the tigerish play of those splendid
muscles, evident under the light, loose
clothing. A hand to hand struggle
with no weapon but penknife, against
that armed and supple strength, could
end in only one way. To appeal to the
workmen would be equally useless.
Montanari would be upon him at the
first call for help.
'"This-chance, he said at length,
with sarcastic emphasis. why do you
give it,"
Montanari shrugged his shoulders
There may be many reasons. If l
killed the signore he would not suffer;
but to cross the dome sO-even il one
arrives safely at the other side"
The pause was sufficiently eloquent.
Then he continued: Perhaps it is my
fancy; perhaps I may not wish to
commit murder"
Willis laughed unpleasantly in ap-
probation of the others possible
irony
Would you consider your hands clean
if l should take header off that
board?"
Montanari ignored the question.
''Let me urge the signore to hasten"
he said. 1T grows late. Every mo-
ment the passage becomes more diff
ficult"
What guarantee have I that you
won't stick your knife under my ribs
the moment l turn my back?"
THAT is as the signore pleases to
think. He has his choice, and he must
take it-now."
II suppose it makes no difference to
you whether leave Rome by the reg
ular route or by the gate of the Prot
estant cemetery"
"That also is as the signore pleases."
Willis fingered the knife in his pock-
ct. After all-why not die like a man
and not like monkey caperng on a
tight rope. Yet-he hesitated; life is
dear at 23-and there was a, chance.
So, summoning all his resolution, he
made his choice. setting his feet eau
tiously upon the narrow pathway
where return was impossible Step
ping carefully, yet firmly, he was sur
prised at the clearness of his head, the
evenness of his heart beats. He could
not have been more at ease crossing
the floor below. Thus he advanced
nearly to the middle of the planks.
There they were roughly wired to-
gether, and with the weight of his
body they began to sag. Feeling the
support give under his feet, he invol-
unfairly looked downward. There was
an instant singing in his ears; a cloud
of blackness-then of fire, spread be-
fore his eyes; an icy sweat started
from every pore; his very soul seemed
wrenching itself from his body. BY
an effort of will almost superhuman,
he stopped, closing his eyes and striv-
ing to master the vertigo threatening
him.