The San Francisco call., 1905-04-09

A paragraph in the Journal de Bel
gique met the pursuer's eye on his
first arrival in Ostend-
1t stated with detail that a Flemish
coachmaker had delivered to the mllor
Anglois a coach of the value or zsOO
francs; that on going for payment ne
found his lordship had absconded with
the carriage; that the defrauded seller
had petitioned the Tribunal de Pre-
miere Instance for proper representa-
ton to other districts. that the fugi-
tive might be apprehended and the
stolen property seized. With this clip
ping in his pocket the man who track
ed Gordon followed up the Rhine 10
the confines of Switzerland Here ne
lost a month. for the emoiazoneu
wagon de luxe had turned at Basic,
and. skirting Neufchatel, had taken us
course 10 Lake Geneva.
Gordon had travelled wholly at ran
dom and paused there only because
the shimmering blue waters, the Dlack
mountain ridges with their epaulets OF
cloud. and, in the distance, the cold'
secular phantom of Mont Btanc,
brought to his jaded senses the first
hint of relief. In the Villa Diodat,
high above the lake, the English MI
lord with the lame foot, the whlte
face and sparkling eyes stayed MS
course. 10 the wonder of the country
folk who speculated endlessly upon the
strange choice which preferred the
gloomy villa TO the spires and slate
roof of the gay city SO near Ah9
here, to his surprise. Gordon found
ensconced, in a cottage on the high
bank, Shelley and his young WIFE with
the black-eyed, creole-tinted girl
whom the Drury Lane audience had
hissed.
So had chance conspired to color
circumstance for the rage OF tireless
hatred that was following.
The blows that had succeeded the
flight of Annabel with his child had
left Gordon stunned. The flaming re-
coil of his feeling, in that fierce de-
nunciation at Almacks, had burned up
in him the very capacity for further
suffering, and for a time the quiet or
Diodati, set in its grove above the
water like a birds nest among leaves,
was healing anodyne.
From his balcony Mont Blanc and
its snowy aiguilles were screened, but
the sun sank roseate behind the Jura.
and it lifted again over vlneyarded
hills which echoed the songs of vine
dressers and the mellow bells of saun-
tering herds. Below, boats swept idly
in the sun, or the long lances OF the
rain marched and marshaled across
the level lake to the meeting and sun
dering of the clouds.
There came a time too soon. when
the dulled nerves awoke, when the
whole man cried out. In the sharpest
of these moods Gordon found respite
at the adjacent cottage, where Shelley,
whose bright eyes seemed TO drink
light from the pages of Plato or Cali
deron, read aloud, or Jane Clermont,
piquant and daring as of old. sang Tor
them some songs of Tom Moore's- Or
in the long days the two men walked
and sailed, under a sky of garter-blue,
feeling the tapping of the waves, liv-
ing between the two wondrous worlds
of water and ether, till for time Cor
don laid the troubled specters of his
thought in semi-forgetfulness
One day they drove along the mar
gin of the lake to Chillon and spent
night beneath the frowning chateau
walls that had entombed Bonnivard.
On the afternoon of their re-
turn. sitting alone on the bal
cony with the gloom of those
dungeons still upon him, gazing
far across the lake, across the noun
tains, toward that home from which
he had been driven. Gordon, for the
first time since he had left England,
found relief IN composition. He wrote
of Chillon's prisoner, but the agony in
the lines was personal one:
/ made footing in the wall,
Ii was not therefrom to escape,
For l had buried and all
Who loved me in a human shape;
No chiid-no sire-no kin had !.
No partner In my misery;
But I was curious to ascend
To my barred windows. and to bend
Once more, upon the mountains high,
The quiet of loving eye.
He wrote In the dimming luster OF
A. III ,-;xo ft,e
long lake churning an inarticulate mel
ody, and a tiny island with trees upon
it rested the eye. As he gazed, beyond
the dazzling beryI foliage. set in the
sunset, a spot riveted his look. A
moment before the white sail of a boat
had glanced there now a confused
fiat blur lay on the water.
Gordon thrust his commonplace
book into his pocket and leaned for
ward. shading his eyes from the glow.
The blot resolved Itself into capsized
hull and two black figures struggling
in the water, one with difficulty sup
porting the other.
The next moment he was dashing
down the bank, hallooing for Fletcher,
peeling off coat and waisteoat as he
went.
There's boat swamped," he shout
ed, as the valet came through the gar
den. Where is the skiff?''
Miss Clermont has it, my lord
Gordon plunged in, while Fletcher
ran to summon the Shelleys. They
came hurrying along the vineyard lane
with frightened faces, Mary to watch
from the high bank, and Shelley. who
could no more swim than Fletcher. to
stride up and down. his long hair
streaming in the wind. The excitement
brought picturesque dozen of goitred
vinedressers from the hillside, who
looked on with exclamations.
All were gazing fixedly on the lake.
or they might have seen two men enter
the grounds from the upper road. OF
these one was q Swiss with a severe,
thin face. and ascetic brow, the syndic
of Cologny. the nearest town-a bigot
functionary heartily disliked by the
country people. The other was a Ge-
nevan attorney. From the road they
had not seen the catastrophe, and the
overturned boat. the struggling figures,
and the swimmer forging to the rescue
came to their view all at once.
Gordon was swimming as he had
her he had