The Washington herald., 1914-06-07

I'm Culmore Square" he replied, "jus,
where you disappeared round the corner '
"You are the Mr.. Algernon knox," she
asked, "who came up Just too late and
who had to appear at the inquest?"
Yes"
Tell me how you found me out?''
Half by accident" he explained THE
man Behal, Just when he was dying, NUT
tered 1,3s' I fancied that 1t must be Q
telephone number. and I found that II
was the telephone number of your mani
cure rooms"
so that was IT," she murmured. half
to herself. well. what now"
Cant you gress?' he replied gravely.
IT want to discover the murderer. Tell
me his .name?"
She looked at him steadily across the
table. You can ask me that question. "
| she said, "a million times. You could
put me. IL you had the power. through
the most hideous tortures that were ever
invented. You cdlld kill me a hundred
times over. But never-never." she re-
peated, with ringing emphasis. would
tell you or any one else d single word"
Knox poured himself out some more
coffee What was Mr.. Behal to your
he asked.
He was a client at Errfngton's. and I
had been foolish enough to go out with
! him-too often That do not mind tell
ing you because It concerns no one save
myself. He Is dead now. have nothing
more to say about him or against him.
But as regards the person who killed
him. II thought that there was any
chance Of your discovering who he was.
think that God would give me strength
enough to plunge this knife into your
heart
Her nervous fingers had clenched for
a r1oment the knife upon the tablecloth-
Watching her intentlv. Knox realized
the extraordinary tension under which
she was suffering; realized. too. that he
might as well attempt to summon the
murdered man before him as to move
her. He made no further effort.
II wish you would allow me to say"
he remarked. as they parted at the door
Of the restaurant that am very. very
sorry for you
She faced him under the gas light. and
there was q curious glow in her eyes.
You need not be-" she assured him. Tn
Knox for a few days was distrait. He
met Sammy Forde ono night at the
Milan and came in for . good deal of
chaff.
Hot on the scent, eh. my Sherlock
Holiness the latter exclaimed cheerful
ly. What mighty schemes are Matching
in your brain, wonder? Is the rope
Tightening. eh?''
TT win not be long" Knox promised
him.
Nevertheless. there were times when
Knox hated himself and his self-imposed
task. -Four times he followed Louise
from ner work. and on each occasion she
went alone to her lodgings. only to reap
pear shortly and make her way to a great
church near the Marylebone road. Each
time he left her there without having dis |
covered a thing. One evening. however, |
he followed her inside. Always after |
ward he remembered the little thrill with |
which he entered the building; the close, |
damp odor, mingled with some faint watt !
of what seemed to him like incense: the |
little patches OF fog or mist which |
seemed to hang about the gloomy spaces: |
distance the low pealing of the organ. He |
took his place In ono of the back seats.
1t was long since he had been In a church.
and the faces Of the congregation puzzled
him. They were mostly young-young
men and wonderland whatever cares Of
the world they had brought with them
they seemed. in a sense, to have cast
away as they crossed the threshold. He
listened to the subdued murmur of their
voices as they Joined in the responses.
There was a peculiar quality of eager
ness in their faces as they looked up the
church toward the cross at the end of
the chancel. an expression which re-
reminded him instantly of Louise He
felt that in the midst of a life which he
had thought to be all comprehensive he
had come upon something outside his ex-
perience, something half mystical and
half beautiful. altogether Incompetent
sible. Then suddenly the lights grew
brighter. A tall figure in a cassock and
white surplice. unseen at first from where
Knox was sitting. came slowly down the
chancel steps and made his way into the
pulpit. The lights flashed up above his
head. and Knox felt his hands grip the
worn oak pew.
The face was the face of the man for
whom he had sought throughout Lon
Ion. and the voice was his voice.
What followed seemed to him almost ,
ike dream. He heard a sermon against !
'in-a strange. fantastic outpouring, In {
is way. which finished in a storm Of ,
ervent and impassioned pleading. Knox c
eit constrained into half unwilling yet $
Wholly intense admiration. The man who !
lad leveled the pistol at his heart fell
nto the background Of his memory. He !
aw only the great enthusiast, pleading Z
or things he loved. I
Life is so beautiful. love is SO beauti-
ul. and both are so short were the S
'reacher's last words. "Rich and Door I
ravel the same path. It Is as easy for d
'ou with a pound a week to climb as /
our neighbors in Mayfair whose feet Q
must press the same rungs Of the same I
adder. Remember that the glory of a
gell-lived life. the peace which passeth I
IL understanding. can be yours day by
ay. in the warehouse and the factory; s
ot in the next life alone, but In this" d
Knox sat there almost as though dazed. [
t was only the swelling Of the organ d
nd the passing out of the people which
old him that the service was over Then a
e rose to his feet and made his way to- a.
Iard the vestry. There were four or five Z
eople waiting outside. One by one they s
isappeared and came out, each with
OF the same expression In their d
aces. the expression which once baffied
I. Paul. And then his turn came He a
ysa the last He nushed imam fho 5.o. | .,