The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1912-01-27

gesting that they two. he and his. part 3 ner, should etake the air for awhile. and HiEdegarde thanked him with her eyes They tramped the port side. say ing nothing. but thinking much. His arm was under hers to steady her. and he could feel the catch each time sue breathed. as when one stifiPS sobs that are fearless. An. to hold her close and to shield her. but thousand arms may not intervene between the heart and the pain that stabs it. He knew he knew all about it. and there was murder in his thought whenever his thought vas of Breitmann. To be alone with him somewhere and to fight 1t out with their bare handsI
 She had been schooled In the art Of acting. but not in the art of disSimu
 lation She had been of the world
 wit thOut having been worldly, and sometimes she was as frank and sim pie az a child. And wordliness makes a buffer in times like these Catbewe thanked God for his own shell. tough
 ened as 1t had been in the war of life.
 They paused by the rail. Without
 warning she bent swiftly and kissed
 his hand. which Iay upon the rail
 HOW klnQ you are 10 me! 'Oh. pshawr' But the touch of her lips shook his soul.
 Cathewe was one of those sure. quiet men. a staff to lean on. that a
 woman may find once in a lifetime
 They are as a usual thing always low
 ing deeply and without success. but always invariably cheerful and buoy ant-genuine philosophers. He knew ,t1.l- -R -l<, von Mitter had yielded to another
 But 1t had been thrown. as it were. against a wall There was this one
 hope. dimIy burning. that some day
 he might catch 1t on the rebound
 Why are not all men like you7" she asked.
 tel esting. Some men shall be fortu-
 nate and others shall not. Everything has to balance in some way"
 ITO have met you" chiIdishIy. Don't talk like that. It always
 makes me less sad than furious.
 We'll go on as we have done in the
 past. good friends. Call me when you need me. and wherever l am shall
 come"
 } How pitifuIly weak I must seem to . you"'
 You would be no happier if you
 wore a mask. Hildegarde. what has . happened! What power has this ad-
 Venturer over you: l cannot under stand. He was man enough to say . that you were gIIiltIess of any wrong"
 He said that?' turning upon him sharply. She could forgive murh. He could not see her face. but by the tone of her voire he knew 1t had frightened. "HiIdega rde."( and he pressed his hand down hard over hers. "I could ind a priest the day we land if you would love me You will always remember that" ? ''As if l could ever forget your kind
 ness. Much as I know him there are
 still some thrilled pages. would call him a Ecoundrel did not know , that in parts he has been a hero. 7 What sacrifices the man has made
 and with what patiencer' D ITO what end?" quietly. 3 "No. no. Arthur! l have promised
 him"
 . He took her by the arm roughly. , ''Let us make two or three rounds : and go back. We shant grow any Q more cheerful talking this way" | "He loves her. I saw it in his eyes. and I must stand aside and watchT' , ''So must l." he said Aren't you ? just little selfish. HiIdegardeY' 4 "I am wreIched. Arthur. and I am a F fool besides. Oh, thHt were cold , bl0oded like your women that 1 could
 eat out my heart in secret, but can'e. l can'tP'
 "But you have courage. Only use 1t. If whut you say of him is true rest Gyt se- a,, nH., not be impressed by an adventurer of : his breed.''
 :'Thank your with a broken laugh. "I am only an opera singer. here on " sufferance."
 "Oh. did not mean it that way. ' Let us finish the waIk.'' savaRely.
 On the afternoon of the second day :, out tea was served under the awning, !. and Captain Flanagan condescended : to leave his bridge for half an hour. ' Say" said the captain. drinking his :. tea. not because he liked it. but be- ]. cause it was customary, i've got a
 character forwards. I'm aIlus shippin odds and ends.s Got a Frenchman. . hands like a lady."
 Breitmann leaned forward. and Nj. = Ferraud sat up.
 !, "Yessir." continued the captain. ''speaks I-talyan an English. An if I 1 ever meets a lady with long, sOt
 hands like hisn I'm for a pert tall l. straigbtway.'
 O Whats the matter with his handsY Q asked the admiral
 v ''Why. commodore. they're as soft a: f Miss Laurn's here. an yet when tn f big Swede who handles tn bagGag'
 was a-fOoIin' with him this mornin' it l. was the SweGe who begs off, Nary q n callOus. an yet he bowls tn big ont
 round tn deck like he was a line ? beiD' pierced by sassy tug. An , what gets me is he knows every bolt ,. from stem to stern. sir. an an all , around good sailor int tn bargain. an , it don take me mOre'n twelve hours D find that out. Well. I'm or t tn r bridge. Good day, ladies'"