Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1909-09-22


and the dark, saturDine face of a trust
ed servant appeared behind it. This
secret espionage had been going on for
days In the chateau. Scarcely move
was made or word spoken by the
white people that escaped the atten-.
ton of the swnrthy spy. And, curious
y enough. these spies were no longer
reporting their discoveries to Hollings-
worth Chase.
The days passed. Hollingsworth
Chase now realized that he no longer
had authority over the natives. Rasu-
la made the reports for the islanders
and took charge of the statements
from the bank.
Every morning Chase rode boldly
into tue town, transacted what bust
ness he could, talked with the thor
oughly disturbed bankers and then de-
family made his way to the chateau.
lie was in love with the princess
desperately in love. He understood
perfectly-for he was man of the
world and cosmopolitan-that nothing
could come of it. She was princess,
and she was not in Il story book; she
could not marry him.
So far as Genevra was concerned, on
her part it could mean no more than
n diversion, Il condcscension to coquet-
ny. u simple Irritation: it meant the
passing of IL few days. the killing Of
time, the pleasure of gentle conquest,
and Observation-Disclosures. All this he
knew.
At first she revolted against the
court he SO plainly paid to her i'll these
last few days. 1t was bold, conscience
less. impertinent. She avoided him;
she treated him to Il short season of
disdain; she did all in her power to re-
buke his eTrontery-and then in the
end she decided to give him as good
us he sent in this brief battle of folly.
1t mattercd little who came off with
/ the fewest scars, for in Il fortnight or
two they would so their separate ways.
no better, no worse. for the conflict.
And, after all. it was very dull in these
last days, and he was very attractive
and very brave and very gallant and,
above all. very sensible.
They rode together in the park every
morning, keeping well out of range Of
marksmen in the hills. Their conflict
was with the eyes. the tone Of the
voice, the intervals of silence; no touch
of the handwriting except the strate-
gies of Eros.
What did it matter if a few dead
impulses. u few crippled ideals, few
blasted hopes. We're left strewn upon
the battlefield at the end of the fort
night? What did anything matter SO
long us Prince Karl of Brabetz was
not there?
F, One night toward the end of this
week of enchanting rencounters-this
week Of effort to uncover the vulner-
able spot in the others armor-Ge-
nevra stood leaning upon the rail
which inclosed the hanging garden.
She was gazing abstractedly into the
! black night. out of which far away
blinked the light III the bungalow. 1t
was the first night in Il week that he
| had missed coming to the chateau.
! She missed him. She was lonely
He had told her of the meeting that
was to be held at the bungalow that
| night at which lie was to be asked to
deliver over to Kasula's committee the
papers. the receipts and the memoran-
| da that he had accumulated during his
months of employment, i'll their behalf
She had Il feeling of dread-a numb.
sweet feeling that she could not ex-
plain except that under all of it lay
the proud consciousness that he was
! a man who had courage. IL man who
WAS not afraid.
How silly ami" she said half aloud
! in her abstraction.
She turned her gaze away from the
blinking light IN the hills. Il queer
guilty smile om her lips.
Across the garden from where she
was laying herself bitterly Lady Dep.
Iln@9am.s husband Wis Is. sl!!lylng IN lo.w,