Camas Prairie chronicle. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1901-1917, 1906-12-28
CHAPTER XXI.

over its pages, l cannot proclaim myself
as satisfied. On such an evening as this
with the summer woodlands beneath the
cottage basking in the tender glory of
the suns farewell, with the silence of
the day that is ending holding the quiet
helds-on such an evening, say, my
story, even to myself, appears impossible,
nightmare born in the land of evil
dreams. Yet have but to turn my eyes
to where my dearest wife sits at her
work, to know that it is true; for it was
in that time of danger that Providence
gave me the most generous of the gifts
that can be bestowed upon man.
Two days after Marnac escaped from
our pursuit at Southampton, little coun-
Gil was gathered in the parlor of DR..
Weston's cottage at Cornish Polleven.
In his great armchair by the fire sat the
old scholar, with the lamplight exposing
the delicate fragility of face wherein
consumption had set its warning. In odd
contrast was my cousin, Sir Henry Ora
den, who confronted him. Great-stat-
ured, stern, keen-eyed, he was of that
type that can fearlessly execute, as well
as intelligently conceive, a plan. Mary
Weston was on a cushion at her fathers
knee, his hand in hers; and it was more
often to that noble girl that my glance
wandered than to my cousin, though, in
deed it was he who now set before us
the position of affairs.
1t was right, he said, that DR.. Weston
should know, even as his daughter knew,
the danger that hung over us. And so,
from it's commencement, he told that ter
rible story; how Marnac, the celebrated
Heidelberg professor, had been seized
with a partial mania born of heredity,
nurtured by overwork, brought suddenly
to the light of the violent attacks deliv-
cred against a book ON which he had
spent half his life; how he had planned
to destroy his more bitter adversaries,
and how, by his insane cunning, he had
brought about the deaths of Won Stock
mar and Mechersky; how, in his des-
perate fight from our pursuit, he had
killed the son of Reski, the Polish inn
keeper; how he had come to England
to end his vengeance upon DR.. Weston;
and how he had been led to believe that
Mary was the writer of the attack which
had incensed him. All this he explained;
and while he spoke, the shadow of the
terror seemed to creep over our very
souls, so that we drew together like
sheep that hear the cry Of wolves in the
snow-clad hills.
It was DIR. Weston who first broke the
silence that followed Graden's cOnclu-
sion.
"You have referred to a certain book
or diary belonging to this Marnac," said
he, for indeed my cousin had mentioned
that discovery at Heidelberg. "And l
gather that from it you first learned the
names of the scientific enemies against
whom an attack might be directed. Did
this mailman include in his butchers list
any persons besides Won Stockmar,
Mechersky, and myself~
There were several other Names" re-
piled my cousin; but do not think their
criticisms were sufficiently severe to
place them in serious danger. have,
however communicated with them all.
On the least suspicion they will inform
the police and also telegraph to me at
my London house. My servant there is
kept informed of my address from day to
day"
"And the policeT''
ain international matters they move
slowly. 1t has been a chase across
Europe, remember. Months have often
elapsed before very ordinary criminals
have been arrested. But this man is a
remarkable linguist; he has some FIVE
hundred pounds yet In his possession, ana
he has the cunning common to the par
TALLY insane. The English police have
full information, but by this time he
may be in France or Belgium"
What, then, do you propose, Sir Hen
~"
"For the moment we have no definite
objective. 1t would be useless for us TO
start for the continent without further
information. Until 1t reaches us, we
shall stay in this country"
II quite understand. l trust that for
the ten days that we still have at Poll
even, you will consider yourselves my
guests-though l fear that the size of
my cottage forbids me asking you to
leave your quarters at the inn"
Are you, then, returning to Cam
bridge, DIR. Weston? thought you had
settled here for the winterY" asked my
cousin.
ut was so intended, but my doctors
have ordered me to the Engadine They
say-it is my only chance, Sir Henry"
Mary Weston's eyes rose to her faith
er's face in one brief, pitiful glance, and
then her head dropped forward. Poor
girl! she knew that he had spoken truly.
''The Engadine?"
Graden rose in his ponderous fashion
and stood with his back to the fire. l
could see that the intelligence concerned
him-concerned him, indeed, too nearly
for immediate comment 1t was some
moments before he spoke again.
Forgive me, DR.. Weston" he said.
''but is this a sudden resolutionP
eve decided yesterday"
els it common property Do the VI
lagers knowT
Really, Sir Henry, have no idea. 1
Ihould not think they know"
eat VwtI1 h. nufka Mat, n.