The Washington herald., 1907-07-14

Conyers rose and turned away, he saw
him restlessly lingering it again.
! GOD help u.s. II this lasts much longer
we shall ali go crazy, he thought. az
he hastily left the room: but II was from
himself that he was vainly trying 10 es-
cape. he knew. as he wandered cut again,
Apart almost from any volition OF his
own. his feet carried him along the path
they had so often trOdden of late-tO the
Round Wood. where. between two silver
stemmed birehes, the hammock Of gaily
eoiOred twines still hung. He stood gaz-
ing at it for a blank. desolate moment,
then he moved aimlessly away. taking, as
sleep-walker might. the first narrow
path which offered A few listless steps
along the slippery, glistening carpet of
pineneedles. and like the sleeper awak-
ening, ne was brought up with a sudden
shock-he was on the brink of the riveri
The broad stream lay dark and classify
still under the overhanging trees and the
dense screen Of alder bushes which hem
med IL in on either SIDE, their branches
dipping 10 the slow. gliding water. Con-
yers looked around him with a freezing
thrill of dread, a dread which, though
fiercely repelled was steadily growing
for this was the Alder Pool the thought
Of which haunted the poor mother, sleep
ing or waking Did the answer to that
unanswered question lie here among the
knotted roots of the crowding alders, or
amid the long water weeds swinging in
the slow current? Had Isobel's light feet
trodden the same path. had she stood
where he now stood, listening to the cool
lap-lap Of the water? Had shea cry al
most broke from him as up from the
Swallowed depths something white seemed
slowly to float toward him.
Then he tried to pull himself together,
for IL was only a pun of white vasOr
sailing high overhead, and doubled In the
dark, placid surface, but as he looked
from the soaring trees, ranged like silent
spectators on the banks, 10 the sullen wa
ter, he suddenly recalled Sir David's
twitching fingers. seeking the clairvoy-
ants letter again. Little wonder If he
were ready TO snatch at any means TO
burst the bonds Of sense and wiring some
answer frcm the silence.
If stay here much longer" Basil put
1t 10 himself. modern fashion, I'm soon
De as bad as the poor old chap, ready to
try any sort of hRnky panky"
The words We're light, but he could not
50 easily thrust the boding horror of the
walked
swiftly away, going where he did not
heed. so long as il was away from the
river, feeling only the need for some
swift movement, anything TO break the
trance Of numb hopelessness which SEEM
Cd settling down upon him Before his
mind began 10 clear, he had left the many
trees Of the park behind him. and the
dense irwoods which clothed the lower
slopes OF the sheltering hills. then the
dwindling scrub Of hirches. and found him.
self at last out on the open moorland
/ fronting the sunset.
Beneath him lay the broad valley, with
| its checker work OF field and meadow,
and somber planting" its gentle slopes
and swelling uplands ever rising and
darkening toward these far-off peaks. pur-
ple-hooded by distant storm clouds Al
! his feet. where the river. sweeping sea
ward, broke in silvery shadows over its
shingiy bed was the great turreted, many
gabled house. From the old central tow
ct round which the more modern build
ings clustered, the flag, with the Stormont
! blaZOl. a sturdy oak and the Stornont
motto: Il dare" rufied out bravely In
the evening breeze. That stubborn, age
long defiance to time and TO foes alike
aw0ke a kindred chord. Involuntarily his
hands elenched themselves
i will not give Up hope-I Will mott
will not; ! Will find her" he repeated.
dOggedly, though the spacious evening
stiffness. the wide calm Of indifferent
nature settling down 10 night and 10 re
pose, seemed to embody that one haunt
ing. battling. unanswerable question:
s"yVhere7''