The county record. [volume] (Kingstree, S.C.) 1885-1975, 1912-09-19

dragged him into the library. Not un.
til he placed him In the middle OF the
floor. beneath the blare OF the lamp
light, did O'Rourke have an oppor-
tunity to observe his features. But
low as ne dropped to his knees beside
the hody, his wondering cry testified
to immediate recognition.
The ,a:eSt name 10 be inscribed on
the long and blocd-stGined death-.oll
of the Pool Of Flame was that Of Paul
Maurice. Vicomte des Trebes; O.. Il
there were life enough LEFT IL the
man to enable hin to insist ucoa his
nom de euerre (the wanderer reflected
grimlyD Raoul dc Hveres.
What next?" wondered O'Roa:'';e
Wat can the meaning o. Il :" ."
now?"
With each development the mystery
was assuming more fantastic proper
tons, becoming still more impene-
.rable and unsolvable. But he had no
leisure in which to ponder it no". il
pes Trebes were to be restored. And
O'Rourke worked over the man as
enderly as though they had been life
ong friends with skillful fingers es-
mating tn" nature ana extent or his
wounds, with sound knowledge OF
rough and ready surgery doing all
that could be done to bring him back
10 consciousness.
At last Des Trebes sighed feebly; a
spot OF color. febrile, tickle, eyanes-
cent dyed his cheeks; his breath rat
lied harshly in his gullet; his eyelids
twitched and opened wide. He glared
blankly at the face above.
"Des Trebes." cried O'Rourke. "Des
Trebes!"
His voice quickened the intelligence
of that moribund brain. A fash Of
recognition lighted the staring eyes.
The lips moved without sound.
"Des Trebes!"
"Ah, yes the Irish.
The whisper was barely articulate.
O'Rourke put to his lips a cup OF
brandy diluted with a little water.
Drink" he pleaded, and try to tell
me what's happened to ye. Who gave
ye these wounds? Try TO speak
But :. no shall
not tell"
"But-good God. man! we've been
murdered"
The white lips moved again; the
adventurer bent his ear low to them.
I'VE have both lost
but you your wife Z.
my wife,"
In a frenzy O'Rourke resumed his
efforts to strengthen the dying man
with spirits and water. but Des Ire
bes, with a final effort, obstinately
shut his teeth, moving his head i'm
perceptibly from side to side in token
Of his stubborn refusal.
So he died. implacable. In death
the chiselled features remained set
in a smile sardonic and triumphant.
Dying, he gave no comfort to his
| foe.
For a little time longer O'Rourke
knelt at Des Trebes' side, watching
and wondering. Eventually he sighed
heavily, shook his head, shrugged his
shoulders and rose. And, rising, he
perceived for the first time that he
was no longer alone with the dead in
that place.
kneeling In silence by the vicomte's
side he had till then been hidden from
the inner doorway TO the room by the
drapery of the center table. And evi-
dently 1t was this circumstance which
had emboldened man to slip In from
the main hall and approach Sypher's
desk at the back OF the room.
AS O'Rourke appeared he was con.
scious first of something moving in
the room-a movement caught vaguely
from the corner OF his eyes. Then he
heard stif1ed cry Of fright. He had
already his revolver In his hand, so in.
stant had been the obedience of his
brain and body to the admonition Of
instinct
He swung about with the weapon
poised, crying: Stop" The other
man was apparently trying to escape
by the door to the hall, but was much
too far from it to escape the threat
ened bullet. a jet OF fire spurted from
his hand. O'Rourke heard a crash
and clatter of broken window-glass be-
hind him. Without delay or conscious
aim he fired and saw, still indistinctly
through pungent wreaths of smoke,
the figure reel and collapse upon
itself
The man had hardly fallen ere
O'Rourke stood over him, with a foot
firm upon one arm, while he bent and
wrenched revolver from relaxing fin.
gers. Then. stepping back, he took
stock Ct the murderous-minded in
truder, AID saw at his feet, writhing,
coughing and splitting, a Chinese
coolie--a type of the lowest class, his
face a set yellow mask, stolid, un.
| apontiono1