The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1910-06-10
CHAPTER xvI.-(Continued.)

at Cairo was bruited about IN all the
papers.
On the fly leaf of French Bible. in
:. woman's hand-an odd hand with
peculiarly forcible strokes-were these
entries:
Married January 10, 1899, Cerisse
Corella Wayne, daughter of Desiree
and John Francis Wayne, and Ham
seye Hackleye, third son of Sir Walter
and Lady Evelyn Hackleye.
Born, November 1st 1900. to Ce-
risse Corella Wayne Hackleye and
Hamleye Hackleye. a son. Walter
Hamleye Hackleye.
Born, October Is, 1901. to Cerisse
Corella Wayne Hackleye and Hamleye
Hackleye, a daughter, Paula Cerisse
Hackleye."
Gradually there became fixed more
securely the public idea that Hackleya
had murdered his wife. And the grow
ing impression was that Hackleye and
Harcourt were one and the same. but
the most inexplicable of all was the
dual resemblance between the two
women, but at that the Man-Aperil-
La puzzled.
Mark Flanders, the old attorney from
whom Hackleye had rented the house
at "a Briarsweet place. was so upset
by the sensation in which the staid old
home was figuring that he nearly went
wild AS it was. he cut short his Eu-
ropean trip. and came home in a jiffy
to see that the beloved old homestead
was not whitfield to bits by enterpris-
ing sleuths who were seeking further
for secret passages and subterranean
ways.
Mrs. Desterle died early in the fall
and her heart-broken husband took
their accumulated savings and went
home to Paris. Harold Harcourt was
still sitting behind the bars of the
Jail. The British government did not
come and lead him out of captivity.
Harcourt's wife was slowly getting
better in the hospital to which they
had removed her There had been
shocking days of rawlings so extraordi-
nary that the nurses had stood abash-
ed at the horrors revealed; there had
been times when Mrs. Harcourt's
strength outranked that of even the
lence she had essayed to kill herself.
but oftenest she was weak as a sick
kitten. and lay inert and helpless on
her narrow bed. moaning as if within
her slender frame fermented the an
;guish of the world. Philip Hartley
came daily to see her. His quiet pres
,ence always had a calming effect upon
the sick woman. and she seemed TO
recognize him. Philip called first be-
cause the paper sent him. and yet, as
the months drifted by and the Wayne
murder mystery was relegated grad
snally from first to a second. and then
place in the paper, he went because
he wanted to. not confessing to him.
self why. He couldn't have told. He
couldn't resist the emotion that drew
him to the sick woman.
The most expert doctors were called
In attendance. Mrs. Harcourt's condi-
ton was most battling. One day there
drifted in an aunt of the inferno, a
gray-haired doctor who had done mis-
sionary work in India for thirty five
years. The inferno discussed the case
with his aunt. and took her around to
see the patient. The old doctor-Foth-
ergill was her name-examined the
young woman closely.
i think. john" she said, after she
had looked at Mrs. Harcourt, accord
Ing to the prescribed ritual for medici-
nal inspection. that the poor little
thing has been drugged to death. They
do these things beneath the tropic suns
very frequently. There are weird drugs
put to queer purposes over there.
Where they stop at murder, even by
slow poison. death in life is no more
than a convenience to them if thew so
desire. l think she's drug-sick. Give
ner light food. stimulants, and plenty
OF morphine. It's the best rea gent I've
found for those indiscriminate drugs
that grow over there. Also a powder
I'll bring YOU
me inferno quoted his aunt to the
Atteholng physicians. And because Of
tne fame of DR.. Fothergil. which ha
travelled even across the broad saa.
and the line of sex. they listened r.
what she said. They followed NJ
F'othergiifs advice and slowly but .ura
~ MRS Harcourt began to imnrova
One day she reused from her st,,ro.
sat up and looked at her nurses
I do not remember" she star
ed I cannot remember, and,
glad. for the hurt has all gone ,ron,
here" oil'
AS she spoke she pressed ona ~,
to her heart. and the other to her No.,
There Philip Hartley found her NJ -
he came an hour later. He had = CO. 49,
ing bunch Of asters for her-la vanasr
whites, soft pinks-and ashes or rosas
Sweet flowers with their color,
burned away" she murmured as she
reached out for them. There was th.
same innocent friendliness between
these two pure-souled ones az ther,
might have been between two sera.
our flowers Of the north conn
Tres seem so pale-and yet 50 pure.
sne continuew. as she buried her fac,
witnin the shaggy petals. But the,
nave no perfumes"
An. yes. they have" denied Hart
we have rose gardens here toe
INC violet beds in sprinetime. ana "a :
lions IN June. when the roses a.,