The Bridgeport evening farmer. [volume] (Bridgeport, Conn.) 1866-1917, 1912-03-11

life.
"Will you make me a promisn?" he
said, smiling at me, lnccking at me-
NO." answered.
81 was going to ask you after my
death to take my heart and send 1t
back to my people at Orme castle, Cor
don Arms, in England-you know
where. It would be a kindness to the
family" gaxed at him In sort of
horror, but he smiled and went on.
"We're medieval today as ever we
were. Some of US are always making
trouble, one corner or the other of the
world. and until the last Gordon heart
comes home to rest there's no peace
for that generation. Hundreds of
years they've travelled all over the
world and been lost and stolen and
hidden. My fathers is lost now some
where. Had it come back home to
rest my own life might have been diff
ferent. l say. Cowles, couldn't you do
that for me?"
It is not for me to say whether or
not made promise to Gordon Orme
or to say whether or not things medic
val or occult belong with us today.
Neither do I expect many to believe
the strange truth about Gordon Orme.
1 only say it is hard to deny those
about to die.
"Orme,' said. Il wish you had laid
out your life differently. You are a
wonderful man.
1.-THE great games" he smiled
''sport. love, war; Then his face sad
dened. Il say, have you kept your
other promise to me?'' he asked. Ibid
you marry that girl-what was her
name Miss Sheraton?''
"NIiss Sheraton is dead"
"'Married?" he asked.
''No. She died within two months
after the night I caught you in the
yard. 1 should have killed you then,
Orme"
He nodded. Eyes, but at least I
showed some sort of remorse-the first
time, l think. Not bad sort, that
girl, but niadly jealous. Fighting
blood. imagine. In that family"
YES" said. ''her father and broth
er and I, all three, swore the same
OATH"
'"The same spirit was in the girl" he
saidA nodding again. "Revenge-that
was what she wanted. That's why 1t
all happened. 1t was what wanted
too. You blocked me with the only
woman
"Do not speak her name," said to
him quietly. 1.-THE nails on your fin
gers are growing blue. Orme. Go
with some sort of squaring of your
accounts"
! He shrugged shoulder. "My Swami
said we do not die-we only change
worlds or forms. What! l. Gordon
Orme. to be blotted QUITO lose my
mind and soul and body and senses
not to be able to enjoy! No. Cowles.
somewhere there are other worlds.
with women in them. do not die-1
transfer" But sweat stood on his
forehead.
you're an awfully decent sort. Give
me bit. of paper. want to write
l found him a pencil and some pages
of my notebook.
ITO please you. ri try to square
some things" he said. you've been
so deuced square and straight with
me all along. Tm-I'm Gordon. now.
I'm English. Word Of fighting man,
my-my friend
He leaned forward. peering down at
the paper as though he did not clearly
see. but he wrote slowly for a time.
absorbed in thought.
Tn oil fhn
country knew in thousands during
those years doubt if any more un'
believable than this ever had occur
renee. 1 saw the blood soaking all
his garments, lying black on the ground
about him. l saw his face grow gray
and his nails grow blue, his pallor
deepen as the veins lost their contents.
saw him die. But 1 swear that he
still sat there. calm as though he did
not suffer, and forced his body to do
his will, at last smiling again as he
looked up. "Fingers getting dread
fully stiff. Tongue will go next. Mus
Giles still under the power for a little
time. Here, take this. You're going
to live, and this is the only thing.
It'll make you miserable, but happy
too. Goodby. I'll not stop longer"
Like flash his hand shot out to the
weapon that lay near him on the
ground. l shrank back. expecting the
ball full in my face. Instead it passed
through his own brain.
At last / rubbed the blood from my
own face and stopped to read what he
had written. Then I thanked God
that he was dead. These were the