The San Francisco call., 1905-03-26

Aye" said the bailiff, winking to the
crowd; the pretty jug for folk as
spend more than they find in pocket;
with nice grating to see your friends
SO genteel like"
Breaking from her fathers hand, the
girl in the doorway ran out with fear
in her blue eyes.
oh, where are you taking him p
she cried.
The fellow smirked. I'm just going
to show his honor to a hotel l know.
till he has time to see his pal Dellevelly
of Golden Square to borrow a tidy
eighteen pound ten, which a bookseller
get
Eighteen pounds" gasped the
youth, with hysteric laugh. Debtors
prison for only eighteen pounds! But
| have the books still-he can have
them back"
said the bailiff. .Oh, 1 know your
young gentlemens ways. Come along"
Father" cried the girl, Indignantly,
as the bailiff dropped a heavy grasp
on the lamb s-wool collar You'll not
let them take Shelley. You'll wait for
the money, father"
Go into the house." thundered the
old man. He's a good-for- nothing
vagabond, / tell youi" He thrust her
tween her and the youth standing in
the bailiff's clutch. -wonderingly
and disdainfully, like a bright-eyed,
restless fox amid sour grapes.
Go to your room." commanded her
father. and the girl slowly obeyed,
dashing away her tears, while the old
bookseller went back to the cluttered
shop and his reading Of Livy's Roman
History.
In the chamber the girl entered, Jane
Clermont looked up half f-scornfully.
L heard 1t all,'' she burst; you are
a little fool to take it-scolding you like
a child. and before all those people."
Mary opened bureau drawer and
took out small rosewood box con-
she stood with her treasure in her
hand. Jane jumped to her feet.
I've borne 1t as long as / can my
self, she cried under her breath. I'm
going to run away before am fort
night Older
Run away? Where?"
Jane had begun to dance noiselessly
on tiptoe with swift bacchante move
ments. I'm going to be an ac-
tress," she confided, as she stood at
pirouette. I've been to see Mr.. Sheri-
dan-the great Mr.. Sheridan-and he's
promised TO get me a trial in a real
part at Drury Lane." She paused,
struck with the determination in the
others face. What are you going to
do?'
I'm going to Shelley"
Good I'll go with you. But you
have no money. How can you help
him?"
Mary held out the little box.
Your mothers brooch!" cried Jane.
DO you really care as much as that
for him pa little satirically.
Her companion was dressing for the
street with rapid, uncertain fingers.
Its all l have" she answered.
They sat in silence till they heard the
outer door bolted and knew the old
man below had gone to his own room.
Then they stole softly down the creak-
ing stair. undid the outer door eau
tiously and went out into the evening
hustle.
The pavements were crowded, and
Mary clung to her companon's arm, but
Jane walked nonchalantly. her dark
eyes swapping with adventure. Not a
few turned to gaze at her piquant
beauty. To one whose way led in the
same direction it brought thought of
a distant land.
In Suliote shawl she might be
maid of Missolongtii' unused George
Gordon. as he strode across Fleet mar
ket behind the two girls. Greece! /
IL
shade Of melancholy was in his
face as he walked on, but not discon-
tent. The resentment of his London
homecoming and the desolation Of that
first black night at Newstead he had
overcome. With the companionship of
his sister and in the calm freshness of
frosty lake and rolling wind washed
moor he had recovered some of the
buoyant spirits SO suddenly stunned by
the impact of the ISLANDERS that had
met him. The London papers he had
left unopened. from a sensitive dread
of seeing the recital of his mothers
well-known eccentricities, which her
death might furnish excuse for recall
ing. His new book, whose stanzas
stood like mental mile-posts of his
journey, had almost finished its pro-
gress through the press. In its verses
he hoped to stand for something more
than the petty caviling of personal
paragraphists. It was to his publish
er's he was bound this night when that
wistful thought of the shores he best
loved had shadowed his mood
Crossing the open space on which
faced the dark brick front and barred
windows of the Fleet Prison, he saw
the two girlish forms pause before it's
dismal entrance, where stood the shirt
errand could have brought them there
unaccompanied at such an hour, he
wondered.
Just then the clock Of st. Dunstan's-
in-the-We began a ponderous stroke,
and the warden knocked the ashes from
his pipe.
Eight o'clock" he announced
gruffly. Prison closed"
A cry of dismav fell from Marys
lips-a cry freighted with tears. Then
we can't get poor Bysshe,"
Gordon turned back and approached
the dingy portal. "I have a fancy to
see the inside of the old rookery,
warden" he said. Perhaps these Wis
itors may enter with me-" His hand
was in his pocket and Jingle caught
the warden's acute ear. The gruff de-
meanor of the custodian merged
precipitately into the obsequious.
He pushed open the gate with alac-
rity and preceded them into the foul
area of the prison
Mary threw Gordon a quick glance
OF gratitude as she passed into the
warden's off1ce-to return without the
little rosewood box Across the look
had fitted a shudder at the shouts and
oaths that tainted tie inclosure, and as
she emerged he caught the gleam of
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