The Greenville journal. [volume] (Greenville, Ohio) 1850-1918, 1915-03-25
CHAPTER |.
rhs MESSAGE From the Deep.

The Message From the Deep.
The two old men sat in the library
eyeing the unresponsive blue envelope
Chat lay on the end of the long table
nearest the fireplace, where merry
but uRnohced bed Of Goals cracked
fiercely Ia the vain effort to cry down
the shrieks of the bleak December
wind that whistled about the corners
OF the house.
There was something maddening IN
the fact that the envelope would have
to remain unopened until young Fred
eTick Brood came home for the night.
They found themselves wondering If
by any chance he would fail to come
in at all. Their hour for retiring was
ten O'Clock, day in, day out.
Up to half-past nine they discussed
the blue envelope with every inmate
of the house, from Mrs. John Des-
mond, the housekeeper, down to the
voiceless but eloquent decanter Of port
that stood between them, first on the
arm Of one chair, then the other. They
were very old men; they could solilo-
quize without in the least disturbing
each other. An observer would say,
during these periods of abstraction,
that their remarks were addressed to
the decanter and that the poor decan-
ter had something to say in return.
But, for all that, their eyes seldom left
the broad, blue envelope that had lain
there since half-past eight.
They knew that 1t came directly or
Indirectly from the man to whom they
owed their present condition Of COM
fort and security after half century
of Vicissitudes; from the man whose
life they had saved more than once
in those old, evil days when comforts
were so few that they passed without
recognition in the maelstrom of
events. From midocean James Brood
was speaking to his son.
Twenty years ago these two old GRO.
MES had met James Brood in one OF
the blacklist holes of Calcutta, dere-
lict being swept to perdition with the
swiftness and sureness of tide that
knows no pause. They found him
when the dregs were at his lips, and
the stupor of defeat in his brain.
Without meaning to be considered
SamaritGns, good or bad, they dragged
him from the depths and found that
they had revived man. Those were
the days when James Broods life
meant nothing to him, days when he
was tortured by the thought that it
would be all too long for him to en-
dure, yet he was not the kind to muir
der himself as men do who lack the
courage to go on living.
Weeks after the rescue in Calcutta
these two soldiers of fortune and an
other. John Desmond, learned from
the lips Of the man himself that he
was not such as they, but rich in this
worlds goods, richer than the Solo
mon of their discreet imagination.
What Brood told them of his life
brought the grim smile of appreciation
to the lips Of each. He had married a
beautiful foreigner-an Austrian, they
gathered-of excellent family, and had
taken her to his home in New York
city. to the house in lower Fifth ave
nue. where his father and grandfather
had lived before him-the house in
which two of the wayfarers after
twenty years, now sat in rueful con
temptation of blue envelope
A baby boy came to the Broods II
the second year Of their welded life
but before that there had come &
mana music master, dreamy-eyed
handsome, Latin; a man who played
upon the harp as only the angels may
play. In his delirious rawlings BrooC
cursed this man and the wife he haC
stolen away from him; he reviled tn,
baby boy, even denying him; hi
laughed with blood-curdiilg glee owe
the manner in which he had cast oU
the woman who had broken his hear
and crushed his pride; he walled il
anguish over the mistake he had mad
In allowing the man to live that h
might gloat and sneer in triumph. Thi
much the three men who lifted hin
from hell were able to CLEAN from lip
that knew not what they said, an
they were filed with pity. Later OF
in a rational weakness, he told then
more, and without curses. A deer
silent, steadfast bitterness succeede
the violent rawlings. He became a way
farer with them, quiet, dogged, fatal
where they went he also went; wha
they did, also did he. Soon he led, an
they followed Into the dark place
of the world they plunged. for per-
meant little to him, death even les:
They no longer knew days of privt
tion-he shared his wealth with them
but they knew no rest, no peace, n
safety. Life had been whirlwind bC
fore they came upon James Brood;
was a hurricane afterward
Twice John Desmond, younger tina
Danbury Dawes and Joseph Riggl
saved the life of James Brood b
acts Of unparalleled heroism; once
a South African jungle when lioI
ess fought for her young, and agai
in upper India, when single-handeC
he held off a horde of Hindus fo
days while his comrade lay wounC
ed in a cavern. Dawes and Riggl
in the Himalayas, crept down tn
wall of a precipice, with five thol
sand feet between them and tn
bottom of the gorge, to drag him fror
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