Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-08-07

THE SKY-MAN
BY
Henry Kitchell Webster.

Copyright. 1909. 1910,
By the Success Company

from. and then it came to him 1t was a
part or two lines from the Hymn on the
Nativity"
Somehow the thought of Christmas gave
his soul wrench that brought it back
into the world again. They had lost their
reckoning of time and, for anything he
knew, this might be Christmas day. Per-
hapS those stars were caroling their
Christmas chimes. Perhaps down in the
world of men, the windows were hung
with holly and doorways with mistletoe.
Before his thoughts had advanced as
far as that he was flying down toward
the cliff-head. He could only guess at
the length of time that had elapsed since
ne lett Jeanne on her heap of skins, there
in the mouth of the snow tunnel. 1t
must have been an hour or more, for the
moon had been shining when he started,
and now almost the last of it's twilight
had died on the horizon.
a sharp sense of his own delinquency
in having left her to her own resources
for so long, when She had so few re-
sources to draw upon, increased to a
sudden alarm for her safety, when he
made out the black mouth of the tunnel
and saw that there was no light at the
farther end of it. She couldn't have been
waiting all this time, out in the cold; and
yet his eyes. as he lowered, seeking the
exact spot to alight certainly made out
dark object lying there upon the snow.
His heart felt like lead as he dropped
close beside it and scrambled clear of his
wings.
1t was Jeanne; and for moment he
thought she was dead. She seemed as
white and cold as the snow itself And
Yet she was not dead: not even frozen.
The hands he chafed so frantcally We're
inert, but not rigid; and, as he drew her
up in his arms and pressed his head
down against her breast, he could hear.
very family and slowly, the beating of
her heart.
He picked her up in his arms ard car
ried her into the pilot house. The air
here was still warmer than that out of
doors, but it was no longer exhausted
and poisonous
He laid her down for long enough to
light the lamp. to throw off his stiff
leather jacket and to get a little brandy
out of the key. This he mixed with
little water and, with the aid of a small
ivory spoon, he succeeded in getting a
little of it between her lips.
He took off her heavy seal coat and
the wooden jacket she wore under it, and
as we'll as he could, loosened the other
clothing about her waist. Last of all. he
gathered her up in his arms again, wrap
ped the great sheepskin bag about them
both and. with the brandy and water
within arm S reach. settled down TO at
tempt to get some of the warmth and vi
tally of his own body into hers.
She was not fully unconscious now. for
the next time he offered her brandy she
swallowed 1t. Her eyelids were nutter-
ing little, too. and presently she sighed.
He was thrilling all over with tre-
mendous sense of power He felt he
could have brought her back from the
very dead. His arteries seemed to be
running with electricity, rot blood.
Her lips were moving now, and he bent
close to catch the whisper that barely
succeeded in passing them.
'Don't-bring me bach-Philip. It's-so
much-easier to go-ths way
His only reply to that was to hold her
little closer.
ha did resist whom he held the
drink to her lips again; but, after she
had taken two or three sips of II, she
said:
II shan't need any more. I'm getting
quite beautifully warm again.
He knew it was true. She no longer
felt lifeess in his arms. though she still
lay there quite relaxed. He knew he
could let her go now, safely enough. And
yet he held her fast
Il thought you were dead when | saw
you lying there on the snow" he said at
last. not very steadily. IF YOU had been
it would have been my own doing.
She contradicted him with sharp mega
tive gesture:
You left me well enough wrapped up
to have resisted the cold for any length
of time. Besides if I'd wanted to |
could have come back in here. But-but,
Philip Oh, it seems a dreadful thing
to confess now you are here with mel
didn't want to. | just lay down on the
snow. thinking / could go to sleep anu
and that would be the end-such an easy
end,'
She felt him shudder all over as she
said 1t. and she clasped his shoulders
and held them tight. in desire to reas-
sure and comfort him.
Did you mean to do that. Was
that why you asked me to fly away for a
while?"
mo. No. 1t was something | saw
while you We're gone. something that ter
ritied me. Philip, do you remember how
many of the people of the Phoenix died
of what father called the ice madness.
He nodded graveiy.
well. what I saw made me think that
] was going that way. too. PhIilp, l was
watching the moon go down. and gradu-
ally it spread out into three, quite far
apart. and then they changed INTO strange
colors, and stranger shapes. and began to
dance like witches"
He laughed, but the laugh had some
thing very like sob mixed up in it.
You poor child. No wonder it fright
ened you. But that's the orthodox way
for the moon to set in the arctic. It's
part of the same refraction that plays
such strange tricks with the daylight col
ors. No, you're a long way from the ice
madness. Jeanne"
But that wasn't all | saw, Philip. 1t
wasn't the worst. | saw snip against
the moon, only it seemed too high above
the horizon. somehow. That's the crown
ing impossibility And then the moons
began to dance, that wicked wltchlike
dance of mockery So | lay down in the
snow and hid my face in my arms to
I" to go to sleep. 1t seemed SO easy
and, somehow. seemed right, too; not
wicked, anyway.
(To be continued tomorrow