The Middleburgh post. [volume] (Middleburgh, Snyder Co., Pa.) 1883-1916, 1903-11-26
rerything sent her? You'll find her

,ddress-"
"Yes, yes. But not now," Walden
Interrupted harshly. "You've talked
;oo much already. Come
along, Barrow" he hailed the advent
If the steward with ineffable relief.
Call me il he is worse in the night"
He was dazed and stupefied by the
knowledge that had come upon him
10 unexpectedly, and yearned to get
away and be alone where he might
mink of it.
Yet he could not think of it even
when he was alone, for every thought
as it touched his brain famed into
madness and became an incoherent
Kicker that dazZled and baffled him.
One thought only burned to clear
md fiercely steady blaze-a sinister,
hellish thought that he dared not
lace and could not distinguish.
"My God!" he muttered, pacing his
cramped room like Gagged animal.
"It's more than l can bcar!"
He lost all count of time, as n man
does when he sleeps, but when the
steward summoned him hurriedly an
hour after midnight he had evident
ly not been in bed; light was burn
ing in his cabin, he was still dressed,
and his face was wan and his eyes
heavy as if he were in pain.
"Mr. Ashton's worse, sir. Edwards
Is with him, and called me to fetch
you. lie can't sleep. Keeps sitting
up, Edwards says, staring as if he
could see people, an talking very
singular. Delirious, l expect, sir"
1--WE must try sleeping draught,"
said Walden duly. "Tll be there di-
rectly."
Barrow being gone, he busted him
self in the medicine cupboard, and
FASTENED after him, carrying some-
thing in a glass.
Drawing near to No. 16 he could
hear the sick man babbling monoton-
ously, and the very sound of his voice
stung him and quickened that fire Of
hell TO y fcrcer flame within him:
till SUD he caught q word of
what the man was saying-merely a
name, but the utterance of it checked
him instantly, as if a hand had
plucked at his sleeve.
He stood trembling, and in that
same instant saw, shaping white in
the darkness before him, sweet, sad
face, grown pale with weary years
of longing-the pure, wistful eyes
looked into his, and their calmness
calmed him, and their sadness made
him ashamed.
He was sane again; he could not
60 on, but yielded to gentler impulses
as readily as if the utterance of her
name had coniured her there in very
reality to turn him back, and he had
regained his better self in her pres
ence.
With something breaking like n
sob in his throat, he swiftly retraced
his steps, pausing in the unlighted
saloon to open one of the portfolios
and fling the glass he carried far out
into the dark.
Therea5tef, hs-sRt- til well into
the day watching and tending the
man she loved and had loved so long.
He shrank from trusting himself
alone with his own thoughts again
yet; and, because she loved him and
her happiness was bound up in his
life, all that unhappy night he fought
with death for the man he hated
Going on deck in the morning he
leaned over the side to tear up the
letter he had written and scatter its
fragments into the sea.
II was the burial of a great hope
that had died in the night.
As he walked away, the captain,
coming from breakfast, met him and
fingered to make inquiries.
Morning. doctor; how's the pa
tient? You're not going to make q
funeral of it, hope?"
Not quite" Walden laughed care
lessly. "IIe has taken a turn for the
tter."-Black and White.
MOORISH BATHS,