Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-02-21

How long g. time elapsed between the
beginning of that query and its last words
Col. Harris could not say. The utterine
or the words was a terrible effort. They
seemed to choke him ere they reached
his lips. A buzzng and singing filled his
ears SO that he did not hear Sir Thomas
reply, but through a strange veil which
half obscured his vision he saw his
brother-in-laws slow nod Of affirmation.
For the first time in his life, the man
who had fought against naked savages
In the swamps or sands of Africa, who
had heard, unfiinching. the news Of the
death of his only son. felt himself totally
unnerved. He heard as in a dream the
hum of the busy city in the street below.
hansoms and omnibuseS rafting along the
road, the cries of news vendors or hawk
ers, the hustle of humdrum, everyday life
and through it the ticking of his own
watch in his waistcoat pocket.
He remembered afterward how strange
~ this had impressed him--that he could
hear the ticking of his own watch. He
had never been conscious before Of such
an acute sense of hearing. And yet the
buzzing and singing in his ears went on.
And he was horribly, painfully conscious
Of silly, trivial things-the ticking of his
watch which Obsessed him, the irregular
ity in the design Of the wall paper, the
broken top of the inkstand on Sir Thomas
desk.
The great. all-important fact had es-
capped momentarily from his conscious
ness. He forgot that Philip de Mount
ford had been murdered. and that Luke S
stick, blood-stained and damning, had
been found inside the ratings Of the park.
A cycle of time went by-an eternity. or
else a few seconds. Sir Thomas Ryder
pulled open the long drawer of his monu-
mental desk.
Col. Harris watched him doing it. and
long before Sir Thomas took certain
something from out the drawer, the
colonel knew what that something would
be.
A familiar thing enough. The colonel
had seen it over and over again in Luke
de Nountford's hand. A slender stick Of
fich-looking, dark wood, only very little
thicker at the top than at the base and
with a silver band about six inches from
the top. On the band the initials L. de
NJ. daintily engraved.
Col. Harris hardly recognized his own
voice; he had spoken more from a sud-
den instinct Of shrinking from loathsome
objects than from any real will of his
own. One glance at the stick had been
enough. 1t was thickly coated with mud,
and about six inches from the top there
where the silver band showed a deep
dark cleft between it and the length Of
the stick, there were other stains-obvious
stains of blood
Yet Col. Harris had seen worse sights
than this in Zululand and at Omdurman
But on this stained stick. that discolored
silver band, he felt it impossible to look
Il have broken it to you Will, as gent
ly as l could said Sir Thomas. not quite
as placidly as before. He, too. was not
unmoved by the distress of his old friend.
You see that had no option, but to tell
YOU all. You must keep out Of all this,
old man. and, above all. you must keep
Louisa out of it. Take her abroad, Will,
as soon as you can 49,
..She won't go!'' murmured the father.
DULY. 49,. .--s- .sst
Nonsense r
"She won't co., he reiterated. .She
has given her heart to Luke
She'll soon forget him.
Not she!' r.
And she'll be horrlfied-when she
knows" sa.5f5
She'll not believe Il"