The daily banner. (Cambridge, Md.) 1897-2008, 1914-09-21
Copyright. 1914. by Louis Joseph Vance

gown with wafst-cord of crimson silk,
from the thighs down was covered by
black woollen rug. He stared I'M
blinkingly at nothing: man seven
eighths dead. completely paralyzed
but for his head and his left arm
Presently a faint clicking signal dis
turbed the stiffness. Seneca Urine put
forth his left hand and touched one
of row of crimson buttons embedded
in the desk. Something else clicked
this time a latch. There was the
faintest possible noise of a closing
door, and a smallish man stole noise
lessly into the light, paused beside the
desk and waited respectfully for leave
to speak.
"Well?"
"a telegram, sir-from England"
"Give 1t mel"
The old man seized the sheet of yell
low paper, scanned it hungrily, end
crushed 1t in his tremulous claw with
gesture Of uncomfortable emotion.
Send my daughter Judith here!"
Two minutes later young woman
in street dress was admitted to the
chamber of shadows.
You sent for Lie, father"
"Sit down."
desk, and obediently settled herself
In it.
"Judith-tell me-what day Is this? ?"
"My birthday. / am twenty-one."
And your sisters birthday: Rose,
too, is twenty-one."
YES"
"You could have forgotten that" the
old man pursued almost mockingly.
DO you really dislike your twin-sister
so intensely"
The girls voice trembled you
know" she said, I'VE have nothing in
common-beyond parentage and this
abominable resemblance. Our natures
differ as light from darkness"
And which would you say was
light"
Hardly my own: I'm no hypocrite.
Rose Is everything that they tell me
my mother was, while THE girl
smiled strangely-"T think-I am more
your daughter than my mothers"
A nod of the white head confirmed
the suggestion. ct is true. I have
watched you closely, Judith, perhaps
more closely than even you knew.
Before I was brought to this"-the
wasted hand made significant ges-
ture-I was man of strong pas
sions. Your mother never loved, but
An fc fhn
mirror of her mothers nature, gentle,
unself1sh, sympathetic. But you, Ju-
dith, you are like a second self to
me-"
An accent Of profound satisfaction
Informed his voice. The girl waited
In q silence that was tensely expect
ant.
Then, If on this your birthday
were to ask service Of you that
might injuriously affect the happiness
of your sister,"
The gifl laughed briefly: Only
ask I.
And how far would you go to do
my will?"
Where would you stop in the serv-
ice of one you loved?"
Seneca Urine nodded gravely. And
after brief pause, Rose is in love-"
he announced.
ooh, I know-I know" the father
affirmed with faint ring of satisfac-
ton. 81 am old, cripple. prisoner of
this living tomb; but all things
should know-somehow-I come to
know In course of time!"
Its true-that Englishman she
scraped an acquaintance with on the
Riviera last year-what's his manner
Law, Alan Law"
I'm the MAN," the father corrected
mildly, you are right. Only, he's not
English. His father was Wellington
Law. of Law & Son.
She knew better than to interrupt,
but her seeming patience was belied
by the whitening knuckles Of a hand
that lay within the little pool of blood
red light
And presently the deep voice rolled
on: Law and were once friends;