The daily sentinel., 1914-05-27
CHAPTER XIV.
A Chief BOrrOro, From g Chset.

A Ii through the remainder of the night lucille
chung to the child she had nursed through
her illness. And now the situation between the
pair strangely reversed and she, the
petent white woman became the child, racked
and well nigh broken by the pertinacity and
boldness of Hugo Loubeque's pursuit of the sack
she had in her possession, while the little brown
savage, recognizing with that feminine instinct
common to all races and creeds that consolation,
comfort and sympathy was the panacea which
most needed by this wonder of the
fair skin, sat beside her silently all through the
night, her hand clasping the trembling one, her
lips silent but her eyes speaking words which
would have put to shame any service the lips
might have performed. .-. ..
Sleep out OF the question. There could
be no sleep while the mighty spy dogged her
steps, knew where she was. Morning came and
passed, the sun striking obliquely down upon
the village before she dared stir outside the
hut, the little daughter of the chief at her side,
silent and shy but always comforting by her
presence.
Lucille felt great desolation upon her
sense of fighting useless battle that day. What
had 1t all amounted to, the risks, the situations
she had managed to handle, long Hugo
Loubeque was undeterred in his efforts. A
mighty of nostalgia seized her in its grip
and she felt she could willingly give over every
thing to be back in Manila.
Hurriedly she went back to the hut, signify
ing to the child that she wished to be alone.
Inside, she flung herself upon the pallet of
rushes giving vent to uncomfortable sobs. Her
father-she could see him transacting the duties
of his Office like the grim old warrior he was
but with broken heart at the absence of the
girl he had been father, mother, everything to;
Lieutenant Gibson-she longed for the tender
tones of his voice, the caress of his fingers as
they twined about her own; the friends-the
friends and the gayeties and the hops and all
the little trifes dear to her woman's heart. How
she missed them all How she longed to be away
from this savage village, this unclean place with
never voice lifted in her own tongue save the
dreaded voice of who would stop at nothing
to wrest from her the thing which haa brought
her herei
She took the sack from her bosom and wept
upon it. For the first time she wondered wheth-
er 1t had all been worth while, wondered wheth-
er the grief her madcap enterprise had caused
those dear to her would not be greater than any
joy at her coming safely through the ordeal with
the stolen papers intact could ever be.
1t was the only natural outlet for the strain
under which she had been SO long time and,
when she dried her tears, 1t was the Lucille who
had urged her little across the parade
ground to the aviator to plead with him that he
land her aboard the Empress who smiled brave
ly out upon the world She was shamed for the
Weakness which had taken hold of her, shamed
erd douby determined that she should not fail.
Only weak girl, only the refined product OF
prominent ancestry-yet would she prove that
under all the fragility composition which
had neeGed but the ordeal of love denied to turn
it ntS steel, steel against which even such
Hugo Loubeque might hurl himself in
vain
She had determined to get away immediate
ly. There nothing to gain and everything
to lose by remaining here. Primarily. she wished
TO ma some netnou VI RcttIHB pdch 10 chiiIh-
ton The papers meant nothing to anyone save
Loubeque here, and Loubeque, with his Infinite
resources cosh undoubtedly manage to get away.
Eecondarily, Louheque knew where she and
his futile, unscrupuous brain would find a meth
oA o. gaining them. She must get away.
ksA Was quite positive difficulty would
pre>-,l Hse,s In making escape from the
native esl.zds who had fairly defed her from
the rsomens a. the childs recovery. But they
should be easily e,uded, that should be readily
sur1zr;Antoble difficulty in the light of what she
hc,l already accomplished.
On going into the little street she noticed
the chief in earnest conference with his daugh-
ter and old native woman whom Lucille had
no recollection of seeing about the village be-
fore. Had she but known this was but another
seville tool OF Hugo Loubeque's what future dan
gers she might have been saved. Coming closer
she knew that it stranger; moreover, from
the light upon the crone's wrinhled countenance
and the furions gesticulatons she made toward
her. felt that she the object of controversy
And the daughter of the old chief seemed adding
her pleas to those of the old woman with effect
Lucille stood little apart, watching tho
conference it dishsnded She had picked up