The Birmingham age-herald., 1907-09-29

! yet
 Naturally, you would have been a ht- | tie ashamed to speak of us. 1t Is very
 rarely that one who becomes rich Iemem-
 bers those who were poor with him. His money only teaches him to judge them l Those who were formerly his friends are not spendthrfts. extravagant folk who
 should not be injured by assistance. The rich man makes their poverty an excuse | for deserting them. and he cloaNa his de- sertion beneath lofty moral sentiments. i You are too young to do so. but the same spirit is already leading you. Beware Of
 it, Alban Kennedy, for it will lead you to destructioE."
 Alban did not know how to argue wien him. He resented the accusation hotly
 and vet could make no ilnpre sson of re- sentiment upon the imagined grievance
 which old Paul nursed almost affection ately. IL were better. he thought. to hold
 his tongue and to let the old man con tinue.
 Your patron has gone to Paris, you
 say? Are you sure it is to Pars?"
 How could be sure. l am telling you
 what was told to me. lie is to be back in
 a few days time. It is not to be expected that he would share his plans with me. . Certainly not-he would tell you notii- ing. Do you know that he IS a Pole, Al ban?''
 "A Pole? No! Indeed he gives it out that he was born in Germany and is now a naturalIzed British subject
 He would do so. but he is a Pole-and
 because he is a Pole he tells you that ne has gone to Paris when the truth is that he is at Berlin all the time"
 But why should he wish to deceive inc,
 Paul-what am l to him?' 'You are one necessary to his salvation perhaps it is by you alone that he will
 live l could see when I first spoke to you how much you were astonished that l knew anything about it, but remember, every Pole in London knows all about his fellow countrymen, and so it Is very na l. ural that l know something of Richard Gessner. You who live in his house tell me more. See what a gossip I am where my own people are concerned. You have been living in this mans house and you can tell me all about it--his tastes.
 his books, his friends. There would be many friends coming, of course?"
 Not very many, Paul, and those chiefly city men. They eat a great deal and talk about money. It's all money up there
 the rich the rich, the rich-I wonder how long l shall be able to stand it."
 "Oh, moneys thing that most people get used to very quickly, They can stand
 a lot of it, my boy. But are there not | foreigners at your house-men of my own country2'
 
 MT. Gessner was talking to a stranger in the garden and he looked like a foreigner.
 You don't think I would spy upon him, Pau1?"
 That would be the work of q very un- grateful fellow None the less, if there l are foreigners at Hampstead-I should
 wish to know of it."
 "You-and why?"
 That I may save your kind friend 1 ta srh I rta about to menace him. Yes yes he has been generous to you anG I wish to TO
 ward him. He must not know-he must never hear my name in the matter, but should their be strangers at Hampstead let me know immediately-write to me If l you cannot come here. Do not delay or
 you may rue it to the end of your days. | Write to me- Alban, and 1 shall know ! how to help your friend" He had spoken under a spell of strong ] excitement. but his message delivered, he | fell again to his old quiet manner; and | having exchanged q few commonplaces i with the astonished lad plainly intma ted l that he would be alone Alban, surprised i beyond measure, perceived In his turn
 that no amount of questioning would help him to a better understanding, and so. in state of perpexity which dehed eX- presson. he said. Good night" and went out into the quiet street.
 CHAPTER XIV. There are Strangers in the Caves.
 It was some time after midnight when Alban reached Broad street station and discovered that the last train for IIamp
 stead had left A certain uneasiness IS to what his new friends would think of him did not deter him from his sudden determination to turn westward and seek out his old haunts. He had warned Rich | ard Gessner that no house would ever make a prisoner of him, and this quick desire for liberty now burned in his veins as fever. It would be good, he thought to sleep under the stars once more and to imagine himself that same | Alban Kennedy who had not known whther to look for bread-could it be but | five short weeks ago.
 The city was very still as he passed through 1t and, save for a broken-down | motor omnibus with a sleepy conductor | for its guardian, Cheapslde appeared to be almost destitute to traffic. The great buildings. wherein men sought the gold all day were now given over to watch men and the rats, as the bodies of the seekers would one day be given over To the earth whence they sprang. Alban de- pcted a great army of the servants of money asleep in distant homes, and he could not but ask what happiness they carried there, what capacities for rest and true enjoyment.
 Was 1t true, as he had begun to be- leve that the life of pleasure had cares of its own, hardly less supportable than those which crushed the poor to the very earth? Was the daily round of abund- ance, of lights and music and wine and
 women-was it but the basest of sham.s scarce deceiving those who practiced it :? His brief experience seemed to answer the question in the affirmative. He wondered if he had known such an hour of true happiness as that which had come to him upon the last night he had spent in the Caves. Honesty said that he had not and to the Caves he now turned as one who would search out forgotten pleasures. The building in St. James, street had made great advance since he saw it, but he observed 10 his satisfaction that the entrance to the subterranean passages were not absolutely closed, and he did not doubt that many of the old night hawks were still in possession His ds- tonishment, therefore, was considera u 2 when. upon dropping into the first of the passages, a figure sprang up and clutcned him by the throat. while a hand thrust lantern into his face and pair of blacl, eyes regarded him with amazed curiosi- ty.
 "A slap-up toff so help me Jimmy i And what may your Royal IIghness be doing this way-what brings you to this pretty parlor? Now speak a1p, my lad. or it will go queer with you Alban knew in an instant-'his long ex- perlenee taught him-that he had fallen into the hands of the police and his first alarms were very real.
 fsNt-baf ripbt have NotI n oIJpztfou me. .t'