Highland recorder. (Monterey, Highland County, Va.) 1877-1972, 1907-04-05

stand. "He was not good husband,
but''-she shrugged her shoulders WIN
one OF her patient. shadowy smiles
1T makes SO little difference-yesf
Joceiyn said nothing None OF them
had aught to say to her, for each In
that room could lay separate sin at
Victor DurnOvos Geor. He was gone
beyond reach Of human justice to the
higher court where the extenuating cir
cumstance is fully understood. The
generosity Of that silence was infec-
tious. and they told her nothing. Had
they spoken she would perforce nave
believed them, but then. as she herself
said, 1t would have made so little DIFF
ference. So Victor Durnovo leaves
these pages, and all we can do Is to re-
| member the writing on the ground.
Who among us dares to withhold the
extenuating circumstance Who Is
ready to leave this world without that
crutch to lean upon? Given mixed
| blood-evil black with evil white--and
what can the result be but evil? Given
the climate of western Africa and the
mental irritation thereof, added to a
| lack OF education and the natural vice
inherent In man, and you have-Victor
| Durnovo.
NestOrius-the ameless-stretched
out his little bare limbs and turned
half over on his side. He looked from
one face to the other with the grave
wonder that was his. He had never
been taken much notice Of. His short
walk in life had been very near the
ground. where trifles look very large,
and from whence those larger Stun
bling blocks which occupy our attention
are quite invisible. He had been the
third-the solitary third child who
usually makes his own interest In life,
1 and is left by or leaves the rest of bis
| family.
| It was not quite clear to him why he
] was the center of so much attention.
| His mind did not run to the compre-
tension of the fact that he was the
wearer of borrowed plumes-the sable
plumes Of King Death.
He had always wanted to get on to
the kitchen table. There was much
there that interested him and supplied
him with food for thought. He had
risked his life on more than one Occa-
sion In attempts to scale that height
with the assistance Of q saucepan that
| turned over and poured culinary deli
cacies on his toes, or perhaps sleeping
| cat that got up and walked away much
annoyed. And now that he was at last
| at this dizzy height he was sorry to find
that he was too tired to crawl about
and explore the vast possibilities Of it.
He was rather too tired TO convey his
| fOrefnger to his mouth, and was forced
to work out mental problems without
that aid to thought.
Presently his eyes fell on Guy Oscard's
face, and again his own small features
| expanded into smile.
bad casef' he said, and. turning
over, he nestled down into the pillow,
and he had the answer to the many
questions that puzzled his small brain.
AS through an opera runs the rhythm
of one dominant air, so through mems
lives there rings a dominant note, soft
in youth, strong in manhood and soft
again in old age. But 1t Is always
In, N
periods or strong amid the noise and
clang of the perihelion, it dominates
always and gives its tone to the whole
life.
The dominant tone of Sir John Mere
dith's existence had been the high. clear
note Of battle. He had always found
something or some one to fight from
the very beginning, and now, in his OLD
age, he was fighting still. His had
never been the din and crash OF war
fare by sword and cannon, but the
subtler, deeper combat Of the pen. In
his active days he had got through a
vast amount Of work that unchronicied
work Of the foreign Office which never
comes through the cheap newspapers to
the voracious nav Of chattering pub
lie. His name was better known on the
banks Of the Neva, the Seine, the Bos-
porus. or the swift rolling Iser, than by
the Thames, and grim Sir John was
content to have 1t so.
His face had never been public prop
erty: the comic papers had never used
his personality as a peg upon which to
hang their ever changing political prin-
ciples. But he had always been
"there," as he himself vaguely put 1t.
That is to say, he had always been at
the backbone Of those Invisible powers
of the stage by whose command the
scene Is shifted. the lights are lowered
for the tragedy or the gay music plays
on the bufoOn.' Sir John had no SYM
patty with a generation of men and
women who would rather be laughed
at and despised than unnoticed. He
belonged to an age wherein 1t was
held better to be gentleman than the
| object of cheap and eyanescent
notoriety, and he was at once the
despair and the dread Of newspaper
interviewers, enterprising publishers
and tuft hunters.
He was SO little known out Of his
own select circle that the porters In
Euston station asked each other in vain
who the old swell waiting for the 4
o'clock "up" from Liverpool could be.
The o'clock was. moreover. not the
first express which Sir John had met
that day. His stately carriage and
pair had pushed It's way into the crowd
Of smaller and humber vehicular fry
earlier In the afternoon. and on that
occasion also the old gentleman had