The San Francisco call., 1905-08-20

finding myself in a hanson, suddenly
wondering why it was going so slowly,
and once more awaking to the truth.
But it was 10 the truth itself more than
to the liquor that must have owed my
dazed condition. My next recollection
Is of looking down into the open grave.
in sudden passionate anxiety to see
the name for myself. 1t was not the
name of my friend, of course, but it
was the one under which he had passed
for many months.
| was still stupefied BY sense of
inconceivablc loss and had not raised
my eyes from that which was slowly
forcing me TO realize what had hap
pensd. when there was a rustic at my
elbow. and 4 shower of hothouse flow
ers passed before them, falling like
huge snowlakes where my gaze had
rested. 1 looked up, and at my side
stocJ a majestic figure in deep mourn
ing. The face was carefully yelled, but
| was too close not to recognize the
masterful beauty whom the world
knew as Jacques Saillard. [ had no
sympathy for her: on the contrary.
my blood boiled with the vague con-
viction that in some way she was re-
sponsible for his death. Yet she was
the only woman present-there were
not half dozen OF us ogether-and
her flowers were the only flowers.
and Jacques Saillard had departed in
a funereal brougham. evidently hired
for the occasion. I had watched her
drive away, and the sight of my own
cabman making signs to me through
the fog had suddenly reminded me that
/ had hidden him to wait. | was the
last to leave. and had turned my back
upon the grave diggers, already at
their final task, when n hand fell light
ly but firmly upon my shoulder.
II don want to make scene in a
cemetery" said a voice, in a not un-
kindly, almost confidential whisper.
viii you get into your own cab and
come quietly?
Who on earth are you?" L ex-
claimed.
[ now remembered having seen the
fellow lowering about during the funeral,
and subconsciously taking him for the
undertaker's head man. He had certain
II that appearance. and even now l could
scarcely believe that he was anything
else.
My name won't help you." he said
pityingly But you will guess where L
come from when | tell you L have a
warrant for your arrest.
Ny sensations at this announcement
may not be believed, but | solemnly de-
clare that [ have seldom experienced so
fierce a satisfaction. Here was a new
excitement in which to drown my grief;
here was something to think about: and
l should be spared the intolerable ex-
perience of a solitary return to the little
place at Ham. 1t was as though I had
lost 4 limb and some one had struck
me so hard in the face that the greater
agony was forgotten. l got into the
hanson without a word, my captor fol-
lowing at my heels, and giving his own
directions TO the cabman before taking
his seat. The word station was the
only one l caught. and l wondered whe-
Their it was TO be Bow street again My
companion's next words, however or
rather the tone in which he uttered
them. destroyed my capacity for idle
speculation.
Mr.. Maturins' said he. "Mr. Ma
turin, indeedr
We'll" said /. what about him?"
do you think we don't know who
he was?
''Who was hep 1 asked defantly.
siYou ought TO know. said he. ou
got locked up through him the other
time, too. His favorite name was Raf-
fes then"
'.It was his real name,'' 1 said. indis-
nantly And he has been dead for
years
My captor simply chuckled
Hes at the bottom of the sea, / tell
you.''
But do not know why 1 should have