Newark evening star and Newark advertiser. [volume] (Newark, N.J.) 1909-1916, 1913-09-04
THE VALIANTS OF VIRGINIA

green gilt against the lapis-lazuIi Of
the sky, and listening to the insect
noises dulling into the woven chorus
of evening. Uncle Jefferson was long
in returning, and he grew impatient
finally and began TO prowl through
the dusty corridors like a leopard.
then to the front porch and finallV
to the driveway, listening at eveTS,
turn for the familiar slouchinp stan
When at length the old NEGRO an
peared, Valiant took the note he
| brought, his heart beating rapidlv
and carried 1T hastily in to the
candle-light. He did not omen II Of
once, but sat for a full minute PRESS
ing it between his palms as though
to extract from the delicate paner
the beloved thrill of her touch. r.
hand shook slightly as he drew the
folded leaves from.the envelope. How
would 1t begin? my knight of +ba
Crimson Rose?" or Dear Gardener9,,
(She had called him Gardener fine dav
they had set out the roses) or per-
! haps even Sweetheart" II wo1,Id
not be dong, only a mere Eyes" or
Come to me-" perhaps; yet even the
shortest missive had its beginning
and its ending.
| He opened and read.
| For an instant he stared uphs-
| lovingly. Then the paper craclxled
to ball In his clutched hand, and he
made hoarse sound which was half
a cry, then sat perfectly still, his
whole face shuddering. What he
crushed in his hand was no note op
tender love-phrases; it was an abrupt
dismissal The staggering contre-
temps struck the color from his face
and left every nerve raw and CULVER
ing. To be nothing to her, as she
could be nothing to him?' He felt
| a CHASTITY inclination to laugh
Nothing to her! The meaning of the
lines was monstrous. 1t was incon.
| ceivable.
Presently, his brows frowning heav-
ily he spread out the crumpled
paper and reread it with bitter
| slowness, weighing each phrase.
Something which she had learned
| since she last saw him. which Law he
tween them" She had not known it,
then, last night, when they had kissed
beside the sun-dial! She had loved
him then! What could there be that
thrust them irrevocably apart?
He sprang up and paced the floor in
| a binding passion of resentment and
revolt. you shall! You shall!', he
said between his set teeth. 1--WE be-
long to each other! There can be
| nothing! nothing to separate us!s
Again he pored over the page. "She
could not see him again, could not
! even explain" The words seemed to
| echo themselves, bleaksas hail on a
| prison pane. IF he went to st. An
| drew's, he might find the reason why"
| What could she mean by the refer
| ence to st. Andrews? He caught at
| that as a clue. Could the old church
! tell him what had reared itself in
| such dismal fashion between them?
Without stopping to think of the
| darkness or that the friendly doors of
| the edifice would be closed, he caught
up his hat and went swiftly down tho
drive to the road, along which he
| plunged breathlessly. The blue star
| sprinkled sky was now streaked with
clouds like faded orchids, and the
| shadows on the uneven ground under
| his hurried feet made him giddy.
Through the din and hurly-burly of
his thoughts he was conscious OF
dimly-moying shapes across fences,
the sweet breath of COWS, and q negro
pedestrian who greeted him in pass
ing. He was stricken suddenly with
the thought that Shirley was suffer-
ing, too. 1t seemed incredible that he
| should now be raging along country
j road at nightfall to find something
that so horribly hurt them both.
1t was almost dark-save for the
starlight-when he saw the shadow Of
the square ivy-groWn spire rearing
stark from it's huddle of foliage
against the blurred background. He
pushed open the gate and went slowly
up the worn path toward the great
iron-bound and hooded door. Under
the larches on either hand the out
| Sc ncfn nod no L
Idly, and from the beethoven came
the faint inquiring cry of small owl.
Valiant stood still, looking about him
What could he learn here? He read
no answer to the riddle. A little to
one side of the path something
showed snow-like on the ground, and
he went toward it. Nearer, he saw
that it was mass of flowers, staring
up whitley from the semi-obscurity
from within an iron railing. He bent
over. suddenly noting the scent; it
was cape jessamine.
With q curious sensation of almost
prescience plucking at him, he took a
box of vestas from his pocket and
struck one. 1t flared up illuminating
fiat granite slab in which was cut a
name and inscription:
EDWARD SASSOON.
Forgive us our trespasses."
The silence seemed to crash to earth
like a great looking-glass and shiver
into a million pieces. The wax
dropped from his fingers and in the
supervening darkness a numb fright
gripped him by the throat. Shirley
had laid these there, on the grave OF
the man his father had killed-the
cape jessamines she had wanted that
day, for her mother He under
stood.
1t came to him at last that there
was a chill mist cropping among the
trees and that he was very cold. &.
He went back along the Red road
stunmblingly. Was this to be the
end of the dream, which he had fan
cied would last forever? Gould 1t pc
that she was not for him? Was IT
no hoary lie that the sins of the
fathers were visited upon the third
and fourth generation?
Ito Be Continued Tomorrowo