The citizen. (Frederick City, Md.) 1895-1923, 1906-05-04


more than II tie liquor that | must
have Dwell my Ca2ed condition. My
next recollection is of look 'ng down
into Tie open gave in a sudden pas
sionate anxiety TO see the name for
myself. Ii was not the name of my
friend. Of course. but it was the one
under which he had passed for many
months.
| was still stupetied by a sense of in
conceivable loss and had not raised my
eyes froG that which was slowly fore.
ing me to realize what had happened
when there was a rustic at my elbow,
and shower of dollhouse flowers pass
ed before them. falling like huge snow
flakes where my gaze had rested. l
looked up, and at my side stood a ma
jestic figure in deep mourning. The
face was carefully veiied. but | was
too close not to recognize the master
full beauty whom the world knew as
Jacques Saillard. | had no sympathy
with her. On the contrary, my blood
boiled with the vague conviction that
in some way she was responsible for
this death. Yet she was the only wom-
an present-there were not half dozen
of us altogcther-and her flowers were
the only flowers.
The melancholy ceremony was over,
and Jacques Saillard had departed in
afunereal brougham evidently hired for
the occasion. had watched her drive
away, and the sight of my own cab
man 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 gravediggers. already at their
final task. when hand fell lightly. but
firmly, upon my shoulder.
81 don't want to make a scene in
cemetery" said voice in a not I'M
Kindly, almost confidential whisper.
"Will you get into your own cab and
come quietly!'
who on earth are your l ex-
claimed.
| now remembered having seen the
fellow lowering about during the flu
neral and subconsciously taking him
for the undertaker's head man. He
had certainly that appearance, and
even now | could scarcely believe that
he was anything else.
My name won't help YOU" he said
pityingly, but you will guess where
come from when l tell you l have a
warrant for your arrest"
My sensations at this announcement
may not be believed, but | solemnly
declare that l have seldom experienced
so fierce a satisfaction. Here was
new excitement in which to drown my
grief; here was something to think
about. and l should be spared the in
tolerable experience of a solitary re-
turn to the little place at Ham 1t was
as though | had lost limb and some
one had struck me so hard in the face
that the greater agony was forgotten
got into the hanson without Il word
my captor following at my heels and
giving his own directions to the cabman
before taking his seat The word "sta-
ton was the only one | caught and |
wondered whether it was to be Bow
street again. My companions next
words, however, or, rather, the tone in
which he uttered them, destroyed my
capacity for idle speculation.
"Mr. Maturin!" said he. "NIr. Ma
turin. indecdr'
well, said |, what about him?"
"Do you think we don't know who
he wasp
"WhO was heE' asked defantly.
'You ought to know. said he. you
got locked up through him the other
time too. His favorite name was Raj
hes then"
1T was his real NAME" l said in
dignantly. And he has been dead for
years.
My captor simply chuckled.
Hes at the bottom of the sea, tell
you
But l do not know why l should
have told him with such spirit, for
what could it matter to Rallies now?
did not think. Instinct was still
stronger than reason, and, fresh from
his funeral, had taken up the cudgels
for my dead friend as though he were
still alive. Next moment l saw this for
myself, and my tears came nearer the
surface than they had been yet, but
the fellow at my side laughed outright.
"Slall tell you something elseT"
said he.
'As you like"
Hes not even at the bottom of that
grave! He's no more dead than you or
l, and sham burial is his latest piece
of villainyw
| doubt whether could have spoken
if l had tried. | did not try. l had no
use for speech. | did not even ask
him if he was sure, | was so sure my
self. 1t was all as plain to me as rid
dies usually are when one has the an
swer. The doctors alarms, his unscru-
pulous venality, the simulated illness,
my own dismissal-each fitted in its OBJ
vious place, and not even the last had
power as yet to mar my joy in the one
central fact to which all the rest were
as tapers TO the sun.
"He is aliye.' | cried. Nothing else
is alive"
At last l did ask whether they had
got him too. But, thankful as 1 was
for the greater knowledge, l confess
that did not much care what answer
l received. Already l was figuring out
how much we might each get and how