The times dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1903-1914, 1906-04-22

slc will not shy what this ID Nlsely ia
consist Of, or, III fact, tell me anything
about II. But sho has hopes"
"Thia Is Of great Importance, dortrc,"
said Sir Nfichnel; ",vc hnve something
definite to go tpon."
II Will start again for Jerusalem With.
out loss Of u day. said Spence. his whola
face lighting Up and harden Ing at tho
thought OF active occupation.
II was going to suggest 1t. Mr.. Spence
said Sir Michael. You will do what u
necessary better than my OF us; your
departure will attract less notice. You
VIII Of course draw upon me for any
moneys that may DO necessary. II In
the course OF your Investigations It may
be---nnd 1t Is extremely probationary be
necessary to b,,y tho truth, OF course no
money considerations must stand In tho
way. We IRE WORKING for tho pence and
happiness Of millions. We arc In very
deep waters"
rather Rlpon gave a deep sigh. Then.
IN nm instant, his faco hardened and
flushed till 1t was almost unrecognzable,
The others started bnck from hin, In
nmazement. He began to trctnblo vlo-
Slently from tho legs upwards. Then he
spoke:
God forgive me-" he said In a thick,
husky voice. God forgive mo! But
when l think of those two mon, dcvls
that they are, dcvilsl whom regard the
broken lives. the suicides. the fearful
mass OF crime, l."
His voice failed him. The irightful
wrath and anger took him and shook
him like n reed-thls tall, blnck-robcd
figure-it twisted him with physical
convulsion lnexprcssbly painful to wit
ness. ..i
For near a minute Father Rlpon stood
among them thus. and they were rigid
with sympathy, with alarm.
Then, with q heavy sob. he termed
and fell upon his knees In silent prayer.
CHAPTER XII.
A SOUL ALONE ON THE SHORE.
Tho little village OF Icastworld is set
on q low haadand by the sen. remote
from towns and any haunt OF men. The
white cottages OF. the fisherfolk, an inn,
tho church. and low range OF coast
guard buildings. are the only buildings
there Below the hcadlahd there nre
miles upon miles OF utterly lonely sands
which edge the sea In n great yellow
scImtar as far as the eye can carry.
from east to west.
ully HuIldu lOOlStCpSt acScTt OlSs II
turb the vast virgin smoothness OF tho
sands. for the fisherfolk sai up the
mouth OF q sluggish tidal river to reach
the village. All day long tho melancholy
sea- birds call to each other over the
wastes, and away on tho skyline or so
1t seems to any ono walking upon the
sands the great white breakers roll
and bloom for ever.
Over tho flat cxpanses tho tide. with
- ~. 49, ll..H. ~
gress, r1lshcs with furious haste-as fast,
80 tho flsherfolk tell. as a good horse
In full gallon. j
It was the beginning OF the winter
afternoon on the day after Gortrc had
visited Eastworld. @
There was little wind, but tho sky
hung low In cold and mcnacing clouds,
ncffably cheerless and gloomy.
"a single figure moved slowly through
these forbiddlng soltudes. 1t was Ger
trude Hunt She wore a simple coat and Z
skirt OF grey tweed, tam o-shanter cap
OF crimson wool, and carried walking
cane.
She had come out alone to think out
q problem out there between the sea and
sky. with no human help or sympathy
to aid her.
The strong, passionate face was pnler
than before and worn by suffering. Yet
beauty in her appearance which seemed
to harmonlze with the very spirit and
meaning of the place where she was.
And yet the face had lost tho old jaunty
hardihood. Qualities in 1t which had
before spoken OF an impudent self-sul-
cheney now wero changed to quiet pur-
pose. There was an appeal for pity in
the Dyes which had once been bright
with shnmelcssness and sin.
T1,n fipor EJar
head WAS bowed MS shc walked, the lips
set close together. 5#$
Gortres visit had moved her deeply.
When she had heard his story some-
thing within her, an intuition beyond
calm reason. had told her instantly of
It's truth. She could not have said why
she knew this. hut she was utterly cer-
tain.
Her long connection with Llwellyn had
left no traces of affection now. And she
would kneel In the little windy church
on the headland and listen to the rector.
an old fgriend OF Father Ripon's, read
Ing prayers. she looked back on her past
life az n man going about his business
In sunlight remembers some l,orrid night
mare OF the evening past. She but rare-
~ allowed her thoughts to dwell upon
the former partner OF her sin, but when
she did 30 1t was with a sense OF shrink
Ing and dislike. AS the new Light which
filled her life taught, she endeavoured to
think Of the man with Christian char
ity and sometimes to pray that his heart
also might be touched But perhaps this
was tho most difficult Of MI the duties
sho set herself, although sho had no H.
lusons about the past, realized his kind
ness TO her and also that she had been
at least as bad rs he. But now there
seemed great gulf between them which
she never cared to pass even in thought,
Her repentance was so sincere and
deep, her mourning for her misspent lite
so genuine, that It never allowed her
the least iota Of spiritual prlde--the
snare OF weaker penltents when they
have turned from evil courses. Yet, try
as she would, she could never manage
to really identify her hopes and prayers
with Llwellyn in any vivid way,
And now the young clergyman, the
|; actual instrument of her own salvation
as she regarded him, had come to her
with this story In which she had re4-