The Richmond palladium. (Richmond, Ind.) 1906-1907, 1906-10-26

indeed. w TN the VI
that works in all strong natures. Loder
distrusted the professional beggar;
therefore the charity that bestows cas-
iIy and prorniscuously was denied him,
and of other channels of generosity he
was too self contained to have learned
the secret.
When depression fails upon a man
of usually even temperament it de-
sends with double weight. The
mercurial nature has hundred coun-
terbalancing devices to rid itself of
gloom-a sudden lifting of spirit, a
memory of other moods lived through,
other blacknesses dispersed by time,
but the man of level nature has none
of these. Depression when it comes
is indeed depression; no phase of mind
TO be superseded by another phase. but
a sIackening of all the chords of life.
1t was through such a depression as
this that he labored during three
weeks. while no summons and no hint
of remembrance came from ChiIcote.
His position was peculiarly difficult
He found no action in the present, and
toward the future he dared not trust
himself to look He had slipped the
old moorings that familiarity had rem
dered endurable, but, having slipped
them, he had found no substitute.
Such was his case on the last night of
the three weeks and such his frame Of
mind as he crossed Fleet street from
Clifford's inn to Middle Temple lane.
It was scarcely o'clock. but al
ready the dusk was falling. The great
er press of vehicles had ceased, and
the light of the street lamps cleaned
back from the spaces of dry and polish
ed roadway, worn smooth as mirror
by wheels and hoofs. Something of the
soliture of night that sits so i'll on the
strenuous city street was making itself
felt, though the throngs of people on
the pathway still streamed eastward
and westward and the taverns made a
busy trade.
Having crossed the roadway, Loder
paused for a moment to survey the
scene But humanity in the abstract
made small appeal to him, and his
glance wandered from the passersby
to the buildings massed like clouds
against the dark sky. AS his gaze NOV
ed slowly from one to the other a
clock near at hand struck Z, and an in
slant later the chorus was TAKEN up
by a dozen clamorous tongues. Usually
he scarcely heard and never needed
these innumerable chimes, but this
evening their effect was strange. Com
ing out of the darkness, they seemed
to possess a personal note, a human
declaratio The impression was fan
tastic, but it was strong. With a
species of revolt against life and his
own personality, he turned slowly and
moved forward in the direction Of Lud-
gate HILL
For space he continued his course,
then, reaching Bouverie street, he turn |
ed sharply to the right and made his |
way down the slight incline that leads
and drew a long breath. The sense of |
space and darkness soothed him. Pull |
ing his cap over his eyes, he crossed to
the river and walked on in the direc-
ton of Westminster bridge.
AS he walked the great mass of water
by his side looked dense and smooth as |
oil with it's sweeping width and network
of reflected light. On it's farther bank
rose the tall buildings, the chimneys,
the fiaring lights that suggest another
and an alien London. Close at hand
the solid stone parapet, Civ
ing assurance of protection.
All these things he saw with his men
tai eyes, but with his mental eyes only,
for his physical gaze was fixed ahead
where the houses of parliament doomed
out of the dusk. From the great build
ings his eyes never wavered until the
q m In n and Wacf- |
minister bridge reached. Then he paus-
ed, resting his arms on the coping of
the bridge.
In the tense quietude of the dark css
the place looked vast and inspiring.
The shadowy terrace, the silent river,
the rows of lighted windows, each was
Slowly and comprehensive
ly his glance passed from one to the
other. He was no sentimentalist and
no dreamer. His act was simply the
act of a man whose interests, robbed
Of their natural outlet turn instructive
~ toward the forms and symbols of
the work that is denied them. His
scrutiny was steady-even cold. He
was raised to no eXaltation by the
of the building, nor was he
chilled by any dwarfing of himself. He
looked at it long and thoughtfully;
then, again moving slowly, he turned
and retraced his steps.
His mind was full as he walked back.
still oblivious of the stone parapet of
The embankment. the bare trees and
he f1aring lights of the advertisements
'cross the water. Turning to the left,
he regained Fleet street and made for
lis own habitation with the quiet ac-
'uracy that some men exhibit in mo-
nents of absorption.
He crossed Clifford's inn with the
same slow, almost listless. step; then |
Is his own doorway came into view. he
topped. Some one was standing in it's
eceSS.
For a moment he wondered if his
ancy We're playing him trick. Then
is reason sprang TO certainty with so
cree a leap that for an instant his
lind recoiled. For we more often
tand aghast at the strength of our
wn feelings than before the enormity
our neighbours actions.
rs that you, Chilcote?" he said below