The Birmingham age-herald., 1907-09-01
CHAPTER III,
WITHOUT THE GATE.


 Alban's garret lay within a stones throw of the tenement occupied by tire Borlskoffs but. in truth, 1t knew very little of him. They called him "The Hunter" in the courts and alleys round about; and this was as much as to say that his habits were predatory. He loved to roam afar in quest, not of ma terial booty, but of mental sensation. An imagination that was simply won derful helped him upon his way. He had but to stand at the gate of a pal ace to become in an instant one of those who peopled 1t. He could ere ate himself king, or prince, or bishop as the mood took him. If a holiday sent him to the theatre, he was the hero or villain at his choice In church he would preach well imagined serm.~,s to spellbound listeners. The streets of the West End were his true world the gate without the scene of his men tai pleasures.
 He had no friends among the youths and lads of Thrawl street and it's en- yironment, nor did he seek them. Those who hung about him were soon repelled by his secretiYe manner and a diff dence which was little more than nat
 ural shyness. If he fell now and then into the speech of the alleys, constant | association was responsible for the lapse. Sometimes, it Is true, an ac- quaintance would defy the snub and | thrust himself stubbornly upon the unwilling wanderer. Alban was never unkind to such as these. He pitied tn csc folk from his very heart; but before them all, he pities himself. Ills fayorite walk was to the pre- cincts of Westminster sch ool, where he
 had spent two short terms before his
 father died. The influence of this life had never quite passed away. Alban would steal across London by night and stand at the gate of Little Deans Yard as though wondering still what ! justice or right of destiny had driven him forth. He would haunt St. Vim 1 cents Square on Saturday afternoons,
 and taking his stand among all the lit tie ragged boys who watched the crick
 ct or football, he would, fin imagination,
 become pink" delighting the multi
 tude by century or kicking goals 50
 many that the very Press was startled.
 In the intervals he revisited the Abbey
 and tried to remember the service as l he had known it when schoolboy The sonorous words of Tudor divines re- | mained within his memory, but the heart of them had gone out. What ] had he to be thankful for now? Did
 he not earn his bitter bread by task
 so laborious that the very poor might 1 Shun 1t. Ills fatner WOulu nave made | an engineer of him If he had lived-so
 much had been quite decided. He could | tell you the names of lads who had 1 been at Westminster with him and were | now at Oxford or Cambridge enjoying l tn ose young years which no subsequent I fortune can recall. What had he done I to the God who ruled the world that | these were denied to him? Was he not born a gentleman, as the world under | stands the term? Had he not worn good clothes, adored loving mother. been educated -n his early days in those | vain accomplish ments wh !ch society de-
 mands from it's children? And now rs
 was an "Eastender." down at heel and l half starved and there were not three people in all the city who would care
 straw whether he lived or died.
 1 This was the lad who went westward
 that night of the meeting in Union street, l and such were hIs frequent thoughts | None would have taken him for what he was; few who passed him by would have l guessed wl,a' his carrier years had been. | The old gray check suit, frayed at the edges, close outtoned and shabby, was 1 just such a suIt as any loafer out of | Union street might have worn. His hol | low cheeks betrayed his poverty He walked with his hands thrust deep into 1 his pockets, hls shoulders slightly bent
 his eyes rowing from face to face as he
 numbered the wayfarers and speculatod l upon their fortunes and their future. Two | or three friends who hailed him were an- | swered by a quickening of his step and a | curt nod of the handsome head Alb S | curl" a fair faxen curl upon broad | white forehead, had become jest in ! Thrawl street. "'E throws 1t at yer"