The Comrade. (Winnfield, La.) 1890-1914, 1910-09-16
CHAPTER IX.-Continued.

CHAPTER discontinued.
And he, too, longed for some hour
to come when he might with right and
decency and dignity speak the words
which some day he must speak or die
He was not versed in the ways OF
women. He had no store of knoWl-
edge, no lesson of experience to fall
back upon. He knew but one woman.
He could not predicate from any petty
maxim or from any ancient aphorism,
or from any worn out philosophy,
what she would or would not do under
certain conditions. Indeed, he only
Thought that he loved her and he must
tell her or die in the concealment.
And so matters ran on and on. It
needed but: spark to ignite the pow
der, it would have seemed, and yet
a vast cataclysm of nature only
brought about the explosion. He had
never touched her except to take her
Eand. Her person had been as in
violate to him as if she had been a
star above his head. And she had
been careful under no circumstances
TO allow more than that. Their hands
had clasped often. Indeed, with every
Good night" and "Good morning" the
circuit of touch was made and broken,
but that was all. They usually parted
at night on the sands where she had
drst been thrown ashore. He would
stand and watch her as she glided
away from him in the darkness toward
the cave that was her home She
had impressed upon him how she
trusted him, the absolute assurance,
she entire confidence that she had
that he would respect the agreement
between them and he would have died
rather than have transgressed the law,
stepped over that imaginary barrier,
as potent as the circle of Richelieu,
which kept them apart.
And yet she would never know
what horrible constraint he put upon
himself. How he stood with clenched
hands and quivering body and stared
after her, long after she had gone. She
would never know how that intensity
OF longing grew and grew until some.
times he felt that he could not over
master 1t. She would never know how
he plunged away staggering through
the woods and threw himself down
upon the sands On his side of the
island, disdaining even the rude shel-
ter Of the cave which was his home,
and fought it out. Sometimes she
saw evidences of internal conflict in
his soul the next morning. The calm
serenity, the Indifference, the animal
like satisfaction with which he had
faced life when she first knew him
had long since disappeared. There
were deepening lines upon his face
which told Of thought, Of struggle, and
OF character thus developed by these
two potent factors in shaping human
destiny.
And he could never know what was
In her mind, either. He never dreamed
that she could love hin. She was so
Tar above him, so supreme, in his eyes
that the possibility never occurred so
him. If he bad known for a moment
how she thought of him, the great
passion in both hearts would have
overleaped every obstacle and in a
moment he would have had her in his
arms, Well, indeed, it is that the
power to read human hearts Is re-
served for the Mind which towers
above human passions because it is
divine.
And so these two while drawing
together as inevitably and as irresist-
IDLY as the tide comes in were still
kept apart. Their feelings were in so,
luton as it were. A precipitant must
he thrown into the atmosphere In
which they moved and lived and had
their being to disclose them to each
other.
On one certain balmy night, they
parted as usual. Was the hand clasp
longer, was the glance with which he
8peered at her under the moonlight
more self revealing than usual? Did
something In his own breast call to
the surface that which beat around
her heart? At any rate, it was with
"a great effort that she tore herself
away at last and for the first time in
his life, although she knew it not, he
followed after her with q few noise 1
less steps only to stop, his face white .
III the moonlight, drops Of sweat bead
ing his brow in the violence of his
effort. Having transgressed even to.
that degree the law. he turned in
afantlr sNhout waiting to watch her