The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1907-01-03
CHAPTER Nv.


mn those whose sphere lies in the
west of London, Fleet street is
little more than name and
~ ClifOrds inn a mere dead let
ter. Yet CliffOrd's inn lies as safely
slowed away in the shadow of the law
courts as any grave under a country
church wall. It is as green of grass,
as gray of stone, as irresponsible to the
passing footstep.
Facing the rallied, in grass plot Of it's
John Loder had his rooms. Taken at
a first glance the house had the desert
ed air of an office, inhabited only in
the early hours, but as night fell lights
would be seen to show out, first on one
floor, then on another-faint, human
beacons unconsciously signaling each
other. The rooms Loder inhabited
were on the highest floor, and from
their windows one might gaze philo-
sophically on the treetops, forgetting
the uneven pavement and the worn
railing that hemmed them around. In
the landing outside the rooms his name
appeared above his door, but the paint
had been soiled by time and the letters
for the most part reduced to Shadows
so that, taken in conjunction with the
gaunt staircase and bare walls. the
place had a cherries look.
Inside, however, the effect was some
what mitigated. The room on the right
hand as one entered the small passage
that served as hall was of fair size,
though low ceiled. The paint of the
wall paneling, like the name above the
outer door, had long ago been worn to
a dirty and nondescript hue, and the
floor was innocent of carpet. Yet in
the middle of the room stood a fine old
Cromwell table, and on the plain deal
bookshelves and along the mantel-
piece We're some valuable books-polit-
zeal and historical There We're no cur
tains on the windows and a common
reading lamp with green shade stood
on desk. It was the room Of a man
with few hobbies and no pleasures,
who existed because he was alive and
worked because he must.
Three nights after the great fog John
Loder sat by his desk in the light of
the green shaded lamp. The remains
of very frugal supper stood on the
center table, and in the crate small
and economical looking fire was burn
ing.
Having written for close on two
hours, he pushed back his chair and
stretched his cramped fingers. Then
he yaWned, rose and slowly walked
across the room. Reaching the mantel-
piece he took pipe from the pipe rack
and some tobacco from the jar that
stood behind the books. His face
looked tired and little worn, as is
common with men who have worked
long at an uucongenial task. Shredding
the tobacco between his hands he
slowly filled the pipe, then lighted it
from the fire with a spill Of twisted
paper.
Almost at the moment that he ap-
Piled the light the sound of steps
mounting the uncarpeted stairs outside
caught his attention and he raised his
head to listen.
Presently the steps halted and he
neard match struck. The stranger
was evidently uncertain of his where
abouts. Then the steps moved forward
again and paused.
An expression of surprise crossed
Loder's face and he laid down his pine.
AS the visitor knocked he walked
quietly across the room and opened the
door.
The passage outside was dark and
the newcomer drew back before the
light from the room.
mr.. Loder?' he began interroga-
lively. Then all at once he laughed in
embarrassed apology. "Forgive me-"
ne said. 1.-The light rather .dazzled me.
1 didn't realize who it was"
Loder recognized the voice as belong
ing to his acquaintance of the fog.
"Oh, it's you" he said. won't YOU
come in?" His voice was little cold.
This sudden resurrection left him sur
prised, and not quite pleasantly sur
prised. He walked back to the fire.
place, followed by his guest.
The guest seemed nervous and agi-
tated. Il must apologize for the hour
Of my VISIT" he said. "My-my time is
not quite my own
Loder waved his hand. .'Whose time
is his own?'' he said
Chlicote, encouraged by the remark,
drew nearer to the fire. Until this mo-
ment he had refrained from looking d.
rectly at his host. Now, however, he
raised his eyes, and, despite his prepa-
ration, he recoiled unavoidably before
the extraordinary resemblance. Seen
here, in the casual surroundings Of a
badly furnished and crudely lighted
room, it was even more astounding
than it had been in the mystery Of the
fog.
Forgive me- he said again. 1T is
physical, purely physical. 1 am bowled
over against my WILL
Loder smiled The slight contempt
that Chilcote had first inspired rose
again, and with it q second feeling less