The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-09-10
You iian believe me. !
You

l. Broke" I echoed. Why. my dear vocabularyp
 ''There hasn't heen-uutil the present time." he sigheds and, rising. he went | to the window and looked gloomily out.
 I was quickly at his side. my hand upon his shoulder Look here, Granny I said, whats | the use of beating about the bush ? Tell me the truth-tel1 me all that happened in London" | He made no answer. His chin had fallen upon his chest. Beyond the open window lay the tall white houses and red roofs of Pera. the quarter of the embassies, and be- hind. in the hot afternoon sun, shone the still waters of the Golden Horn. Up in that we'll furnished room of the smart hotel we were away from the sQualor and noise of the streets, the gray dogs and the bagSy- -tr0usered, befezzed Turks. that varied, chatter ing. cosmopolitan crowd that is per- haps the mast interesting in Europe.
 had hee1 in the sultan's capital twice beapre, and was we'll kndWn at both the French and British embas- sies. At the sublime porte I had chat ted with the grand vizier rand with Tewfik Pasha, who, by the way, was my intimate friend. I had been presS ent at the salan11ik, or Friday prayers of his majesty the sultan, and had re- celved hospitality in number of Fur k1sh houses. Therefore I felt myself quite at home and that unfamiliar, mixed crowd. where the east joins the west.
 I repeated my question in a voice of deep seriousness.
 TT can't tell you, Phil" was his broken response.
 "Why?" I cried.
 But he only shook his head mourn fully
 Surely you-wel1. you'll still face the music?"
 Whats the use?' he queried. "My enemies have succeeded in crushing me. I can't extricate myself. I'm in such a devil of a hole"
 They may have crushed you, my dear old fellow. but they haven't crushed me!'' I declared. "why not explain the whole truth about that af- fair in Radcliffe Gardens? I've come out here in order to learn it from your own lips. Now. take me into your confidenca-do," I urged, lowering my voice.
 T can't"
 "WRy?"
 For two reasons. Phil.'' he an swered. unsteadi1y. looking me in the face. First, should lose your fnend- ship forever. old fellow. And you are to-day the only friend I have in the whole world.' and there was a catch in his voice. And, secondly, Il should--'
 Should what?" I asked "Come, out with it. This isn't like you Gran- n.y."
 "Td break faith with woman"
 I said nothing. What could I say?| No man was ever more loyal to women than Granville Cough. The other sex liked him for his merry. easy-going ness. his brimming good humor and his natural bonhomie. But as In busi- ness, so in love. I had never known
 
 '"Then you've pledged your word eh? To whom?''
 ''To somebody you don't know" he replied.
 And that somebody knows the whole truth concerning the affair in 1 Radcliffe Gardens?"
 Undoubtedly"
 "W11o is she? May I not, at least, | know her name?" asked. my hand ] again upon his shoulder.
 For a moment he did not reply. l Then, looking me in the face again, 1 his clean-shaven countenance twitch- | ing convulsively. he said
 ''Her name is Elfrida Maynard" ment. Then. without comment upon l what he had told me. said:
 "Conf1de in me. dear old fellow. Why | have you fled like this? Surely you are not actually gui1ty?"
 His chin sank again upon his chest, | and his eyes were downcast. -.
 "Ask herr he whispered, hoarsely. | Ask her. She knows the awful truth | Ah!'' he suddenly cried in a wild voice, | ''wlly have you come here, Phil? Why 1 have you come here to taunt me? It l is awful-horrible! You cannot dream | how terrible is my punishment!'
 And standing before me he exhibited l his trembling palms. and then turned | on his heel and paced the room with | his hands to his brow in g. frenzy of | widest despair. |
 He was, saw, haunted by the recol- l lection of that terrible night.
 CHAPTER xXIV. 1
 By the Blue BosphorI1s