Camas Prairie chronicle. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1901-1917, 1909-02-05

Breen is, too. Your lines are different,
hats all. You'll get your FIVE thousand
hat l promised to-day. Just sit tight
md call for anything you want. Well
re good frien Is yet Captain
Negley, have Mr.. Crusoe quartered pleas
antly aft, and tell Macready to serve him
with anything he desires. I'll be back
with the ladies in about an hour. You'll
If course have the ship keyed for sprint
10 Fort de France"
Constable hurried down the ladder, and
IN instant later was again in the launch,
which was aimed at the low-hanging pail,
back of which lay the tortured city. 1t
was now twenty-five minutes to nine. He
could make the plantation house slightly
after the hour.
1t was but a moment from the pier to
the carriage, and then the half-strangled
ponies struggled CALAMITY through Rue
Victor Hugo and up the morne toward
the plantation house. Uncle Joey's rig
was at the gate, good evidence that the
mails had been brought.
Constable entered the house hastily at
ten minutes past nine. There was a
word of cheer upon his lips. No one was
in the library or the music room; no one
but maid servant was on the lower
floor. She was gathering up the litter of
broken envelopes and newspaper wrap
pings upon the library table. Constable
imagined that the maid servant regarded
him strangely. He ran to the stairway
and called:
"Are you almost ready, ladiesY
He heard footsteps above and low
voices; then a door opened and Mrs.
Stansbury crossed the upper hall and
appeared at the head of the stairway. Al
ready he was filed with a confusion of
alarms.
Pardon me for calling you, but every
thing is ready-as soon as you can come"
I'VE are not going on your yacht, Mr..
Constable" the elder woman said coldly.
He sprang up the stairs and faced her
in the dim light. Two or three times in
his life he had become cold like this,
some trait of his breed equipping aim
with an outward calm, when the issue of
the moment was won or lost, but lifted
from his hands.
What is the latest difficulty, please?"
Il would rather not discuss the mat
ter, Mr.. Constable"
MAY l speak with Miss Stansbury?"
1t was not given to the mother to ac-
cede or refuse, for the door behind her
was opened and the glrl stood in the aper-
ture, her anguished eyes intent upon him.
II returned to announce that every
thing is ready" he said quietly, land your
mother tells me that you are not going"
"No, we are not going" she repeated
in lifeless voice.
"Is it too much for me to ask why?"
She did not answer at once, but seemed
trying to penetrate his brain with her
eyes. '"Ihen, you have not seen the New
York papers?" she said. you may have
this. The others are below"
She handed him the front page of
daily journal, dated three weeks before.
His own name was there, and not in
honor. When he locked up from the pa
per the door was shut. Constable went
below.
where is Mr.. WALTZ" he duly inquir-
ed Of the maid servant.
"He went out to the plantation, sir,
Immediately upon bringing in the nails"
"Where is Mr.. Breen?"
"He went down to the city, sir"
Constable left the house and walked
rapidly out the driveway, turning toward
Saint Pierre. Here the mans pride in
tervened. He had committed a folly,
perhaps, but no broad evil. The state
ments of the press were farcical. Lara
Stansbury should not have allowed her
mother and the New York reporters to
shake her trust. With reaction pifing
upon him it's most bitter and tragic
phases, Peter Constable conceded his fail
ure as a lover, and turned to his second
airy passion-Pelee.