Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1912-02-06
CHAPTER XVIII. Continued.)

DFOIl0T as lOVOT III uI6 6y LupdIIy. LAW
patient she had been during all those
Uncomfortable hardships! How brave
and steady; and never murmur! The
single glass Of wine had brought the
color back to her cheek and the
sparkle into her eye; yet he was sure
that behind this apparent liveliness
lay the pttiful desperation of the help
less. He had not spoken again about
old Mortimer. He would wait till after
he had sent a long cable Then ne
would speak and show her the answer
of which he had not q particle OF
doubt. As matters now stood, he could
not tell her that he loved her: his
auixotic sense Of chivalry was too
strong to permit this step, urge as his
heart might upon it. She might mis-:
interpret his love as born OF pity, ano
that would be the end of everything.
He was confident now that Ryanne
meant nothing to her. Her lack OF en-
thusiasm, whenever Ryanne spoke TO
her in these days: the peculiar
horixontality of her lips and oroWs'
whenever Ryanne offered trifling
courtesy all pointed to distrust.
George felt guilty gladness. After all,
why shouldn't she distrust Ryanne?
George concluded that he must &C.
uuire patience She was far too loyal
to run away without first giving him
warning. In the event Of her refusing
Mortimer's roof and protection, ne
knew what his plans would be. Some
one else could do the buying for
Mortimer & Jones; his business would
be to revolve round this lonely girl, 10
watch her and guard her WIN,
out her being aware OF II. "
what use were riches II he cotla
not put them to whatever use ne
chose? So he would walt near ner'
to see that she came and went I'M
molested, till against that time wneh
she would recognize how futile her
efforts were and how wide ana nlen
the wall oftthe world was.
That mother of hers! To his mind IL
was positively unreal that one so
charming and lovely should BE- at
heart strong as the wind and merciless
az the sea. His mother had been every
thing. hers, worse than none, an
eternal question. What a drama she
had moved In, without understanding!
George did not possess that easy
End adjustable sophistry which made
Ryarne look upon smuggling as
clever game between two cheats. Ills
noint of view conceded with For
tunes: it was thievery, more or less
condoned. but the ethics covering II
were soundly established. He had
come very near being culpable himsen.
True, he would not have been guilty
of smuggling for profit; but none the
less he would have tried to cheat the
government. His sin had found MIN
out: he had now neither the rug nor
his thousand pounds.
All these cogitations passed through
his mind, disjointedly as the dinner
progressed toward its end. They bade
Alderman good-by and godspeed, as
he was to leave early for Beirut, upon
his way to Smyrna. Fortune went TO
he'd: Ryanne sought the billiard-room
and knocked about the balls: while
George asked the manager If he could
send cable from the hotel Certainly
he could. It took some time to compose
the cable to Mortimer; and 1t required
cold besides. Mortimer must have a
fair view Of the case; and George pre-
sentcd it, requesting reply be sent
to Cooks in Naples, where they ex'
pected to be within ten days.
Glow much will this be-"
The porter got out his telegraph
book and studied the rates carefully.
Twelve pounds and six, SIR
The porter greeted each sovereign
with a genuflection, the lowest being
the twelfth. George pocketed the re-
ceipt and went in search Of Ryanne.
But that gentleman was no longer IN
the billiard-room. Indeed, he had gone
quietly to the other hotel and written
cable himself, the code Of which was
not to be found In any book. For
long time he seemed in doubt, for he
folded and refolded his message half
a dozen times before his actions be-
came decisive. He tore it up and threw
the scraps upon the floor and fastened
into the street, as If away from
temptation. He walked fast and in
directly, smoking innumerable cigar
cites. He was fighting, and fighting
hard. the evil in him against the good,
the chances Of the future against the
irreclaimable past. At the end Of an
hour he returned to the strange hotel.
His Nps were puffed and bleeding. He
had smoked SO many cigarettes and
had pulled them SO impatiently from
his mouth, that the dry paper had
cracked the delicate skin.
He rewrote his cable and paid for
the sending Of 1t. Then he poked about
the unfamiliar corridors till he found
the dingy bar. He sat down before a
peg Of whisky, which was followed by
many more, each one a bit sitter than
its predecessor. AT last, when he had
had enough to put normal mans
head upon the table or to cover his
face with the mask of inanity Ryanne
fell in the old habit Of talking aloud.
Horace, old top, what's the use?
We'd Just like to be good If we could
Ell? But they won't let US. We'd grow
raving mad in a monastery. We were
honest at the time, but we couldn't
stand the monotony Of watching
green olives turn purple upon the
silvery bough. Nay, nay!"
He pushed the glass away from him
and studied the air-bubbles as they