Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1909-04-30

and hushed. But no
sense of GOODNESS or re-
pose had come to the man whose rack
ed body had been tenderly borne there
In the snowy dawn which saw the
blackened ruins of Aniston's most per-
feet ediice.
Hugh had sunk into Inconsistencies
with the awe struck exclamation ring
ing in his ears, Good God. it's Harry
Sandersonr' He had drifted back to
conscious knowledge with the same
words racing in his brain. They i'm
piled that 80 far as capture wen the
old. curious resemblance would stand
his friend till he betrayed himself or
till the existence of the real Harry
Sanderson at Smoky Mountain did SO
for him. The delusion must hold till
he could have himself moved to some
place where his secret would be safer.
till he could get away.
This thought grew swiftly para
mount; it overlapped the rigid agony
of his burns that made the bed on
which he lay a fiery furnace; 1t gave
method to his every word and look
He took up the difficult part and. after
the superficial anguish dulled. COM
planned no more and successfully coun-
terfeited cheerfulness and betterment
He said nothing of the ~curiously re-
current and sickening stab of pain.
searching and deep seated, that took
his breath and left each time an in
creasing gfddiness. Whatever inner
hurt this might betoken, he must hide
it the sooner to leave the hospital.
where each hour brought nearer the in
eyitable disclosure.
He thanked fortune. now for the
chapel game. Few erVel in Aniston
would care to see the unfrocked. dis
graced rector of st. James. He did not
know that the secret was Bishop Lud-
lows own until the hour when he
opened his eyes after a itful sleep
upon the latter's face.
The bishop was the first visitor, and
it was his first visit, for he had been
in a distant city at the time of the fire.
Waiting the waking, he had been mys-
titled at the change a few months had
wrought in the countenance of the man
whose disappearance had cost him SO
many ~sleepless hours. The months of
indulgence and rich living on the
money he had won from Harry-had
taken away Hugh's slightness, and his
fuller cheeks were now of the contour
of Harry's own. But the bishop dis
tinguished new lines in the face on the
pillow, an expression unfamiliar and
puzzling. The firmness and strength
were gone, and in their place was a
haunting something that gave him a
fitting suggestion of the discarded that
he could not shake off.
Waking, the unexpected sight of the
bishop startled Hugh. To the good
mans pain he had turned his face
away.
MY dear boy" the bishop had said,
"they tell me you are stronger and bet
ter. 1 thank God for it,"
He spoke gently and with deep feel
ing. How could he tell to what ex-
tent he himself, in mistaken severity.
had been responsible for that %unaccus-
toned look? When Hugh did not an
swer the bishop misconstrued the 81
lence. He leaned over the bed. The
big cool hand touched the fevered one
on the white coverlid, where the ruby
ring glowed, a coal in snow.
"Harry," he said, you have suffered
you are suffering now. But think Of
me only as your friend. I ask no
questions. We are going to begin
where we left off,"
81 would like to do that" said Hugh.
'to begin again. But the chapel is
gone" q
"Never mind that" said the bishop
cheerfully. you are only to get well.
We are going to rebuild soon. and we