The citizen. [volume] (Berea, Ky.) 1899-1958, 1908-11-05
{. e.
Il THE FOOTSTEPS OF FEAR lib
lHlI By FANNY KEMBLE JOHNSON Il*I
By FANNY KEMBLE JOHNSON
r.
Copyright. by shOrtstOry Pub. Coz

was as IL bone grazed bone. After Ave
minutes he began to feel that the steps
would enter the church II he sat there
longer-so near they were-so loud.
He hurried out in the middle OF the
prayer. II was a winter morning, but
in that southern city II was like early
spring. The grass In the square was
green, and border OF white violets
had FASTENED to bloom. II was Fri
day, and he gathered a few of them
for her Saturday letter. He stood for
a moment holding them, conscious
only of the sunshine. II deadened him
to himself again. II filled the city as
wine fills a cup, with a life-giving.
sense-stealing potency. But even in
the sunshine the cough nagged him.
Listen" IL whispered.
You need a rest" said Herrick's
mind TO his body, "or you won't last
even your time. I've been going too
fast for you. curse you, but I've had
such a good time"
He looked at his arm with disgust.
Il couldn't row a mile with you" he
said. Il would be ashamed to go in
side any gym with you. You would
have let that tough knock me down
last night If hadn't had a pistol along
TO help you. Oh. l suppose you do
need a rest, only you can't have 1t.
you know. shant go back home and
wait--by myself. And I'm not brute
enough to take her back. now-even
II her mother would kindly die and
give me the chance"
He went on through the sunshine
with his violets. and climbed TO his
room. wrote his daily letter, shutting
the flowers up in the thin sheets for
her to dream over.
A few weeks later Herrick did
something he had not expected 10 do.
He returned home. He wrote the girl
that it was TO get well. In his heart
he knew that It was to die. He had
resisted coming back; but he did not
know what else to do. He was dying
so fast that he had not strength
enough for a pretense Of work among
the living. He was just in the way.
and people, when they did not swear
at him, looked sorry for him. II was
simplest to get out of the way and
away from the people.
The garden was greener than ever.
and he had yiolets OF his own to put
in her letters. He wrote them every
day. They we're mostly lies. He de-
sired TO keep her away He did not
wish her to have his dying face to re-
member. He very well knew what II
would look like. He heard the foot
steps all the time They advanced
steadily. He could almost name the
date OF that gray spring morning when
they would enter his room. and that
CHASTITY occupation of HIS living. strug-
Cling body would ensue. Warm days
he dragged himself to the garden seat.
and looked lovingly back at his beau
tiful home, with the sunshine entering
at the wide doors.
The old house. the old pictures, the
room of books. the green garden. and
the yiolets underneath the oaks-all
these things Herrick devised with a
lovers pleasure to the girl he loved He
seemed gathering a handful of flowers
to send her. and. indeed. when the
trihing legality was concluded. IL was
as IL he had done as sligh. a thing.
He smiled as he thought OF the
stories he had meant TO write They
seemed to be so little worth while. He
read Marcus Aurelius. as the author
best fitted to dwarf the footsteps In
many moods he ignored them, or
raocIod ~ Thorn hut ha aIxuovv lrpov
that at the end Fear would possess
him. He did not mind waiting as
much as he had supposed that he
would He did not know IL 1t were
philosophy, or II death benumbed.~ He
had done with letters to the girl, be-
cause his brain served him no longer
to invent lies, and he found II a relief
He tiled not to think about her; but in
May even dying man may not forget
his love.
Perhaps Herrick's sick yearnlng
called her back in telepathic ways;
but more likely some meddler had
written her the truth. At all events,
she came home to him one day. But
her fresh youth and beauty could not
give him back life. and she had better
have stayed away. She only made 1t
harder for him to die a week later. AS
II CHANGED, he died in the night and
alone. They would not let her see
his dead face. She sobbed that she
could never forgive them for that. But
those who found him dead probably
knew what they were about.