The San Francisco call., 1904-02-21


passed into Carewe street, unnoticed.
Here the detonations were not so deaf
ening. though the little steamboat at
the wharf was contributing to the con-
fusion with all her power. screeching
simultaneously approval of the cele-
bration and her last signals of depart
ure.
At the first corner Tom had no more
than left the sidewalk when he came
within a foot of being ridden down by
two horsemen who rode at so desper-
ate gallop that (the sound of their
hoof-beats being lost in the uproar
from Main street, they were upon him
before he was aware of them.
He leaped back with an angry shout
to know who they were that they rode
so wildly. At the same time sharp
explosion at the foot of the street sent
a red fare over the scene, a flash, gone
with such incredible swiftness into re-
newed darkness that he saw the flying
horsemen almost as equestrian statues
illumined by a flicker of lightning, but
he saw them with the same distinct
ness that lightning gives, and recog-
niZed the foremost as Robert Carewe,
And in the instant of that recognition,
Tom knew what had happened to Graf
ley Gray, for he saw the truth in the
CHASTITY face of his enemy.
Carewe rode stiff1y, like man frozen
upon his horse, and his face was like
that of a frozen man; his eyes CLASSY
and not fixed upon his course, SO that
it was a deathly thing to see. Once,
long ago, Tom had seen a man riding
for his life, and he wore this same look.
The animal bounded and swerved un-
der VanrevePs enemy in the mad rush
down the street, but he sat rigid, bolt
upright in the saddle, his face set to
that look of coldness.
The second rider was old Nelson, who
rode with body crouched forward, his
eyeballs like shining porcelain set in
ebony, and his arm like fail, cruelty
lashing his own horse and his masters
with a heavy whip.
DE steamboat he shouted, hoarse-
ly, bringing down. the lash ON one and
then on the other. de steamboat, de
steamboat-fo' Gods sake, honey, de
steamboat
They swept into Main street, Nelson
leaning far across to the others bride,
and turning both horses toward the
river, but before they had made the
corner, Tom Vanrevel was running
with all the speed that was in him to-
ward his enemy's house. The one block
between him and that forbidden
ground seemed to him miles long, and
he felt that he was running as a man
in a dream, and, at the highest pitch
of agonized exertion, covering no space
but only working the air in one place,
like a treadmill All that was in his
mind, heart and soul was to reach
Crailey. He had known by the revela-
tion of Carewe's face in what case he
would find his friend; but as he ran he
put the knowledge from him with a
great shudder, and resolved upon in
credulity in spite of his certainty. All
he let himself feel was the need to run,
to run until he found Crailey, who was
somewhere in the darkness of the trees
about the long, low house on the cor
ner. When he reached the bordering
hedge. he did not stay for gate or. path.
but, with loud shout, hurled himself
half over, half through the hedge, like
a bolt from a catapult
Lights shone from only one room in
the house, the library; but as he ran
the hall, and there came the sound of
a voice weeping with terror.
At that he called more desperately
upon his credulity to aid him, for the
voice was Mrs. Tanberry's. If it had
been any other than she, who sobbed SO
hopelessly-she who was always steady
and strong. If he could, he would have
stopped to pray, now, before he faced
her and the truth; but his flying feet
carried him on.
Who is it?" she gasped, brokenly,
from the hall Mamie? Have you
brought him?"
It's l." he cried, as he plunged
through the doorway. It's VanreveI.' .
Mrs. Tanberry set the iron candle
stick down upon the table with a crash.
you've come too late!'' she sobbed.
Another man has taken your death on
himself"
He reeled back against the wall. "Oh,
God" he said. "Oh, God, God. God!
Craileyi"
Yes" she answered. It's the poor
vagabond that you loved so we'll"
Together they ran through the hall
to the library. Crailey was lying on
the sofa, his eyes closed, his head like
piece of carven marble, the gay uni
form, in which he had tricked himself
out so gallantly. open at the throat,
and his white linen stained with d few
little splotches of red.
Beside him knelt Miss Betty. holding
her lace handkerchief upon his breast;
she was as white as he, and as mo-
tionless; so that. as she knelt there, inn
movable beside him, her arm like ala
baster across his breast, they might
have been a sculptor's group. The
handkerchief was stained a little. like
the linen, and like it, too. stained but
a little. Near by, on the floor, stood a
flask Of brandy and a pitcher of water.
"You!" Miss Betty's face showed no
change. nor even a faint surprise, as
her eyes fell upon Tom VanreveI but
her lips soundlessly framed the word.
"You."
Tom flung himself on his knees be-
side her.
"Crailey!" he cried in sharp voice
that had terrible cI1 Ira ~,