Evening star., 1907-07-23
CHAPTER Y.

Since the day in his mess when Jim read
the news Of Diana's approaching marriage
to Henry he had been Immersed in a
strange dreariness Of feeling and a curious
indifference to the homeward- bound jour-
ney. Night after night he stood alone on
the forward deck Of the Crocodile bound
from Bombay for England and heard the
soldiers singing their camp songs, their
strong, rough voices growing tender as
they sang their cockney ballads of home.
But they reused no responsive echo In
Jim; watching the southern cross In the
sky. his thoughts often drifted back to the
seven years of fighting with their sun
scorched days of fatigue and danger, full
of work that drained body and brain. He
almost wished that he were returning to
them.
One night at Ismailia the pendulum of his
emotions swung back from this indiffer-
ence to the first hours of joy that he had
experienced when he received the news that
his regiment was ordered back. The ship
had anchored there for few hours to OBJ
tain supplies. With Dunlap and Singleton
he went ashore to the little hotel with its
continental atmosphere of cheap table
d'hote dinners and slipshod Italian walters.
1t was a shaky wooden building, built
around an inside court, with balconies over
which clambered in exuberance pale, waXy
tea-roses, while the front of the building
hung over a cypress-tree garden.
Inc lnUlneTcHtIy SOou
meal was served in the tiny court. Dun
laps and Singleton's boisterous mood Jar
red Jim. He found himself watching the
other guests of Monsieur Carlos hostelry
At adjacent tables parties Of tourists were
making merry while waiting for the P. &
o. steamer to carry them from Cleopatra S
land to golden Italy, and from a dance hall
came the fantastic music of the nautch
women's instruments. In half an hour the
hotel was empty of all the diners save Jim,
who fingered until the shabby proprietor
Monsieur Carlos. informed Monsieur lie
Capitaine that after ten the court was
closed. but the verandas were at Monsieur $
disposal for his kummel and cigarettes. Jim
ascended the creaking staircase to the
broad veranda partly hidden from the road
by its screen of blooming roses cleaning
like stars against the shadowed foliage;
Here and there tight, pink-tipped bud
shone like q tiny flame.
The moon had risen and liumined the en-
tire place with an uncanny DrlliianCe, turn
ing the night into an unreal day. jim SANK
into chair. The air was heavy WIN the
perfume of the rose trees. In the distance
he could hear the barbarous clash OF the
dancing women's cymbals 1t was their
trade night with two shlps m .i,e narno Oi
linn took from his pocket leather port
monnaie and drew from it the picture of
Diana that he had cut from the paper In the
hospital. ,,,,, .,,.
,ce the day he received his aunt's letter
AZ ne sat on the deserted veranda. with the
torn page lying on his knee. he was con-
scious of sudden, intangible feeling of
apprehension. Diana was the tenderest
memory of his boyhood Why did he fear
this marriage with Henry? Vainly he
studied the picture, trying to gain from the
cheap illustration some knowledge of the
woman into which Diana had grown. He
tried honestly to face the truth of his great
anxiety concerning the marriage. He knew
that through his convalescence when the
longing to go home had overmastered the
soldier in him. the thought of renewing his
friendship with Diana had been his hap
piest anticfpa ton. He sought to reassure
himself that his disappointment was sell
fshness-that he feared to find Diana alb
sorbed In new interests. with his place
completely crowded out OF her life. Then q
vision Of Henry, sullen and defiant as he
had last seen him, flashed before him. .