The times dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1903-1914, 1906-02-18

Wranglc and thunder through the night
over IN infinity in which we have
neither part nor lott Come. got you home
Wards ana rest. as 1 am about to do.
Inc ,nght mas been an unpleasant dream.
treat II ms such. We differ on great
matters. Let that be so and We Will
forget 1t. You shall have friend in
me if you will
dortre, hardly conscious of any yol,in-
tary movements, his brain In u stupor,
the arteries all over his body beating
IKE little drums, took the hat and cont
inc other handed to him, and stumbled
out OF the house.
III was about five o'clock in the morn
ing. raw, damp. and cold.
With white face. drawn and haggartl
WIN emotion. he strobe down the hill.
The keen air revived his physical pow
erst but iis brain was whirling, whirlinE,
TIL connected thought was Impossible.
What was it? What was the truth
about that nightmare, that long, horrid
night IN the warm, rich room? His
powers were falling; lie must gee Il
doctor after breakfast.
When lie reached the foot of the hill.
and was about to turn down the road
which led to his rooms. he stopped 10
rest for a moment
From far behind the Hill, over the
dark. silhouetted houses of tile wealthy
people who lived upon 1t, n huge forrnless
pail of purple smoke was rising and
almost blotting out the dawn in Titanic
curtain of gloom. The feeble ncw born
sun flickered redly through It. the color
OF blood. There was no wind that morn
Ing. and the fog and smoke from the
newly lit factory chimneys in the Irwell
Valley could not be Dispersed 1t crept
over the town Ike doom itself-mcnacing,
vast, nnconquerable.
He pulled ont his latch-key with
trembling hand, and turned TO enter his
own door.
The cloud was spreading
Tighten our darkness" he whispered
to himself. half consciously, and then
fell fainting on the doorstep, whore they
found him soon, and carried him in to the
sick-bed, where he lay sick Of a brain
fever n month or more.
Tighten our darkness.
CHAPTER "
a LOST SOUL.
In his great room at tho British Mu-
scum, great. this u.s. for the private room
of an official, Robert Llewellyn sat at his
writing-desk finishing the last few lines
~ his article on the Hebrew inscription
In mosaic, which had been discovered at
Eefr Kenna.
1t was about four in the afternoon.
growing dark with the peculiarly sordid
and hopeless twilight of winters after
noon In central London. y reading lamp
upon the desk threw bright circle of
light on the sheet of white unlined paper
covered with minute writing. which lay
before the keeper OF Biblical antiquities
in the British Museum
The view from the tall windows was
hideous and almost sinister in its ugli-
ness Nothing met the eye but the
gloomy backs of some of the great dingy
lodging houses which surround the Mu-
scum, bed room windows. back bed rooms
with dngy curtains, vulgarly unlovely-
The room itself was official looking but
far from uncomfortable. There were
many book shelves lining the walls. Over
them hung large framed photographs and
drawings of inscriptions. on u stand by
itself. covered with glass shade, was
q duplicate of DIR. schck's model of the
Haram Area during the Christian occu-
patton of Jerusalem.
A dull fire glowed in the large oper
fireplace.
Llewellyn wrote final line with a
sigh of relief and then leaned far back
in his swivel chair. His face was gloomy
and his eyes Were dull with some inward
conmuning, apparently of a disturbing
and unpleasant kind.
The door opened nolselessly (all the
jewellers in the mysterious private parts
OF the Museum walk without noise, and
seem to have caught in their voices some
thing of that almost religious reverence
emanating from surroundings out OF the
immemorial past and Lambert, the as
sistant keeper and secretary, entered.