The Greenville journal. [volume] (Greenville, Ohio) 1850-1918, 1912-11-28

she herself would never have married
him, she ragged inwardly at the possi-
bility Of his wanting another woman.
To her the social fabric which holds
humanity together. was merely con-
venience; the moral significance
touched neither her heart nor her
mind. In her the primordial craving
Tor ease, for material comforts, pref
ty trinkets and gowns was strongest
developed. It was as II this sense had
been handed down to her, untouched
by contact with progression. from the
remote ages, that time between the
fall of Roman civilization and where
modern civilization began. In short
beautiful barbarian, whose intellect
alone had advanced
Fortune was asleep. The mother
went over to the bed and gently shook
the slim, round arm which Ay upon
the coverlet. The child's nature say
revealed as she opened her eyes and
smiled. 1t did not matter that the
smile instantly changed to a frowning
inquiry. The mother spoke truly
when she said that there were times
when she stood in awe of this, her
flesh and blood.
my child, wish to ask you a ques-
tion, and for your own good answer
truthfully. Do you love Horace?"
Fortune sat up and rubbed her
eyes. mo" Had her wits been less
scattered she might have paltered.
The syllable had a finality to it
that reassured the mother more than
a thousand protestations would have
done.
Good night" she said.
Fortune lay down again and drew
the coverlet up to her chin. With her
eyes shut she waited, but in vain. Her
mother disrobed and sought her own
bed.
Ryanne was intensely dissatisfied
with himself. For once his desperate
mood had carried him too far. He
had made too many confessions. had
antagonized woman who was every |
bit as clever and ingenious as him
self. The enterprise toward which |
they were moving held him simply be-
cause 1t was an exploit that enticed |
wholly his twisted outlook upon life.
There was a forbidding humor in the
whole affair, too, which he alone saw,
The possible rewards were to him of
secondary consideration. 1t was the
fun Of the thing. 1t was the fun of
the thing that had put him squarely
upon the wide, short road to perdi-
ton, which had made him first a
spendthrift, then thief The fun of
the thing; sinister phrase! A thous-
and times had be longed to 60 back.
'or he wasn't all bad; but door after
door had shut behind him; and now
he single purpose was to get to the
end of the road by the shortest route.
He did not deceive himself, His
desperate mood was the result of an
rage against himself, a rage
against the weakness of his heart.
Fortune Chedsoye. Why had she not
crossed his path at that time when he
night have been saved? And yet,
would she have saved him? God alone
Knew.
He heard Jones stirring in his room
lext door. Presently all became still
70 sleep like that! He shrugged,
brew off his coat, swept the cover
rom the stand, found a pack of cards,
md played solitaire till the first pallor
# dawn announced the new day.
Reclining snugly against the para {
'et, wrapped in his tattered arbiyeth, {
# cloak, his head pillowed upon his
can arm, motionless with that pre- {
ended sleep of the watcher, Mahomed-
GlGebel kept his vigil Miles upon
niles he had come, across three bleak.
old, binding deserts, on camels, in
rains, on camels again, night and day, |
ay and night, across the soundless, I
elbow plains. Allah was good to the
rue believer. The night was chill, '
ut certain fires warmed his blood. All !
ay long he had followed the accursed, 8
wing giaour, but never once had he S
Jandered into the native quarters of /
he city. Patience! What was day, 7
week, a year? Grains of sand. He I
ould wait. Inshalla!