The San Francisco call., 1905-04-02
CHAPTER xI.
The Beaten Path.


The late sun, rosying the lake beside
the ruined cloister, had drawn its
flame wrought curtains across the moor
that lay about Newstead, and the
library was full of shadows as Gordon
groped in the darkness for a candle.
Dinner was scarce through, for the
party he had gathered-who for a noisy
fortnight had made the gray old pile
resOund to the richest fooleries in the
range of their invention-did not rise
g before noon, had scarce breakfasted by
two and voted the evening still IN its
3 prime at 5 o'clock in the morning. The
Abbey had been theirs to turn upside
down and they had given rein TO every
erratic audacity. That very day they
had had the servants drag into the
6ining-r0om an old stone coffin from
the rubbish Of the tumble-down priory;
had resurrected from some cobwebbed
corner a set Of monkish dresses with
a ell the proper apparatus Of crosses and
beads with which they had opened
. cCnventual chapter Of The Merry
Monks Of Newstead": and had set
Fletcher to polishing the old skull
drinking-cup on whose silver mount
ing Gordon long ago had had engraved
the stanzas he had written on the night
his mother lay dead. The grotesquerie
had been hailed with enthusiasm and
the company had sat that evening
table. where Sheridan's gray poll had
given him the seat Of honor as abbot.
Gordon wore one Of the black gabard-
ines, as he lit the candle in the utterly
confused library. It was a sullen, mag
nificent chamber. The oak wainscoting
was black with age. Tapestries and
book shelves covered one side. and floor
and tables were Uttered with reviews
and books, carelessly flung from their
place.
A shout, mingled with the prolonged
hoWls Of a wolf and the angered
''woof'' Of a bear sounded from the
driveway-the guests were amusing
, themselves with the beasts chained on
either side Of the entrance. These were
relics Of that old, resentful season when
Gordon had hermited himself there TO
lash his critics with his defiant Satire.
The wolf he had then vowed, should
be entered for the deanery. of St. Paul's,
and the bear sit for a theological fel-
.lCWship al Cambridge.
For a moment. candle in hand, he
listened To the mingled noises. his head
on one side. a posture almost Of irk-
sOmeness. He started when Sheridanss
hand fell on his shoulder.
BY the Lord, he calculated. Il
took you for the Abbey ghost."
Sheridan laughed. lit the cigar Cor
cOn handed him. and sat down, tucklng
The ends Of his rope-girdle between his
great knees. The tonsure he had con-
triVed was a world too small for his
massive head. and the monks robe
showed inconsistent glimpses Of red
waistcoat and fawn-colored trousers
where its edges gaped.
What are you incoming over2" he
asked. Got a new poem in mind?''
No To-day l have thr wn two into
the fire TO my comfort and smoked out
of my head the plan Of another"
Sentimental?"
Not J. I was thinking of the East
] wish might sail for Greece in the
spring-provided ] neither marry my
self nor unmsrry any one else in the
interval"
why not the first?" the other pur-
sued Il tried it younger than you
The speaker sighed presently, and
locking his hands behind his head
leaned back against the cushions, his
fine, rugged face under its shock of
rough gray hair turned tender. MY
pretty maid Of BATH" he said softly.
Elizabeth, my girl-wife that fought
duel for at Kingsdown and who ran
away with me to France when l hadn't
a pound It's twelve years since. she
died. This is an anniversary TO me. my
q hoy. Forty years ago to-day she mar
ried me. l hadn't written The Rivals
then, nor gone TO Parliament-nor
grown old,"
Gordon was silent Sheridan's face,
. III the candlelight, was older than he
had ever seen il. Age was claiming
him, though youth was still in the fop-
pish dress. the brilliant sparkle of the
eye, the sharp quickness on the tongue.
But the wife he remembered at that
moment had belonged to a past gen
GRAFTON.
A mufIled call came-"Sherry, Sher-
~. and al the summons the gray head
lifted and the CLEAN Of incOrrigible
humor shot again across the thin
cheeks. The rOgues are whOoping for
me-" he chucked, and hurried out
Gordon stared into the gloom of the
open window opposite in a reVerie.
That echo of still-liVing memory struck
across his whimsical mood with
strange directness, like voice speak
ing insistently Of simple human needs.
TO love, TO marry he reflected.
1T is the recourse Of the highest in
tellect as well as the lowest. There is
Sheridan He is brain at its summit
He puts more intellect into squeezing
new case Of claret out of a creditor
tradesman than the average man has
IN his whole brain-box. He has writ
ten the very best drama and delivered
the very best single Grafton ever con-
ceived or heard in England. And now,
without his pretty wife, he is a prey
10 debt. 10 gaming and to the bailiffsi
IcdtE d4lQ single IDOSs6SSlOn. the EQell-
right OF mantle having and holding
from all the world of one warm. hui
man sympathy-that is the worlds
way. the clear result Of ages Of COM
bined experience"
he looked up at pounding Of hoofs
outside and 2 howl from the chained
wolf The sounds merged into a hilari-
Gus hubbub from the dining-roonl, be-
tOkeuing some neighborhood arrival.
His eyes. still gazing through the
parted curtains. could discern dimIy
on the terrace z white image standing
out in relief from the swathing dark
ness. II was a statue of Vesta, god
dess Of the domestic fireside. 1t seem
ed to gaze in at him with a peculiar
quiet significance. To the Romans that
image had stood for the hearthstone-
for all the sweet age-Old convention
sslities Of life. such as enshrined his
sister in her placid country home, her
children around her. He had a vision
Of a stately figure moving about the
Abbey with watching solicitude and
there flashed into his mind the begin
ming Of one Of his poems: