The semi-weekly messenger. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1897-1908, 1903-03-17

ence to the tastes of the Chronicle
readers as he knew them,-gave it the
color of a medieval romance. The
young southerner was pictured as a
kind of knigh-errant of old. After
much ~journeying $50 the account pro-
ceededl the two men came together in
France, at Etretat. The challenge was
passed at once and they met in the
early morning on the high Normandy
coast, almost in view of the transat-
lantic ships as they depart down-chan-
mel in the direction Of Home. They
fought with pistols-'and the sun"
(this at the bottom Of the twelfth
page. with sudden headlong haste)
was in my eyes when 1 faced him
n the signal to fire given"
I saw Gilbraith glance quickly over
his shoulder at thee lock on the man.
tel-shelf. He was laboring under ex-
element; and all at once I OWNED
the absurd thought that was passing
in his mind: It's morning there now;
they're fighting now,'-that was the
meaning of this glance. Then his eye
feverishlysought for the next page
the one that Hayden had mutilated.
When pieced together this showed
three separate attempts to carry the
story along. At the top, in a shaky
hand: THE shots were simultaneous.
but I had Won."-the last four words
being erased with a pen-stroke. Half
way down the page, in a scrawl;
The shot were simultaneous; he
was down and I was unharmed."-and
again the pen-stroke through the lat
ter part Of the sentence. Near the bot
tom. the third and last essay: THE
shots were simultaneous. and I fell"
with a savage cut Of the pen back
ward from the period after the final
L" in an obvious effort to obliterete
the line. AS the ink had been pre-
iously exhausted on the pen, the rec
ord remained, clear and distinct.
Write. man-write!" said Gilbraith
in a frenzy as he turned on the sleep
er. For a moment he stood above him.
marvelling that he did not wanen.
then something in the pitiful figure in
the chair changed his rage to compass
sion, for he added: mo, It isn't your
fault, Frank. You tried,-1 saw that
you tried,-but how could you know
that it vas flesh and blood you were
dealing with?"
1 retreated toward the door, rying
to draw him after me away from the
horrors of that room. We had in fact
nearly reached the door. when Hayden
Strengthened up, reused, as I supposed,
by the increased violence of the storm.
He took up. his pen, held it poised an
instant as if listening, Their wrote.
This time there was no erasing, no in
decision; but it required only a glance
to see that he was still asleep; the
unnatural pose. the uncanny look of
the eyes, told US that. A man in the
somnambulistic state is not a cheerful
companion but Gilbraith glided back
to him as if to miss no word that
should come from his pen. Then:
Yes that's the true verSion!" he
cried in a voice that brought Hayden
back to real wakefulness and the SER
wants of the house upon the scene.
In the confusion I got possession of
the paper, and read: II am dying,
but so is he. Therefore I leave no
quarrel on my brothers hands.
Hours later I descended to the street
for a brief respite. The light in Gill
braith's quarters had been turned low
from three o'clock until six, in the hope
that he might get some rest. The 600
into the darkened hallway had been
left open for the sake " xty- my arm
chair stood midway between couch and
door. In the half-light I could see
that Gilbraith was always awake.
alert to every sound. appearing to
watch the doorway. exactly like a
man who expects a visitor. Once on a
time I had witnessed a play called
THE Corsican Brothers," wherein a
guest did appear,-and so the daylight
was welcome, s~affron-hued though it
was.
Thomas" l said to the hall-boy, on
returning to the house, "if any mes
sage comes for MI. Gilbraith,-a
cablegram, or anything of az kind
bring it to me first
It's just gone up. sir" he yawned.
whats gone up?" I demanded.
"A cable for Mr.. Gilbraith's gone
up" he replied, reused to Apprehension
at my tone.
1 ran up the stairs with all the en-
ergy that remained in me. A messan-
ger was just leaving G~ilbralth's room.
the door of which he had left wide open
Joe. poor fellow, was standing in the
middle of the room with the bit of
paper in his hands.
There was nothing new in Hard
wicke's cable; it was merely a con-
firmation of the earlier message.