The Greenville journal. [volume] (Greenville, Ohio) 1850-1918, 1915-05-20

moment. he had not tnougnt OF them
except in their relation to a completed
state of happiness for his father. In.
distinctly he recognized them as essen
tials.
Ay. he was lonely. The house was
as bleak as the steppes of Siberia. He
lOnged for companionship. friendship.
kindness-and suddenly in the midst
of it all he leaped to his feet.
I'm going out, gentlemen" he ex-
claimed. breaking in upon an unappre-
ciated tale that Mr.. Riggs was relat-
ing at some length and with consider.
able fierceness in view of the fact that
Mr.. Dawes had pulled him up rather
sharply once or twice in a matter of
inaccuracies. Excuse me, please"
He left them gaping with astonish-
ment and dashed out into the hall for
his coat and hat Even then he had
no definite notion as to what his next
move would be, save that he was going
out-somewhere, anywhere, he did not
care.
Somehow, as he rushed down the
front steps with the cool night air
blowing in his face, there surged up
within him a strong, overpowering
sense of filial duty. 1t was his duty to
make the first advances. 1t was for
him to pave the way to peace and hap
piness. Something vague but disturb
ing tormented him with the fear that
his father faced grave peril and that
his own place was beside him and not
against him, as he had been in all
these lily directed years. He could
not put 1t away from him, this thought
that his father was in danger-in dan
ger Of something that was not phys
ical, something from which, with all
his valor, he had no adequate form Of
defense.
At the corner he paused, checked by
an irresistible impulse to look back.
ward at the house he had just left To
his surprise there was light in the
drawing-room windows facing the
street. The shades in one of them
had been thrown wide open and a
stream of light flared out across the
sidewalk,
Framed in this oblong square OF
light stood the figure of a man. Slowly,
as if drawn by force he could not
resist, the young man retraced his
steps until he stood directly in front
of the window. A questioning smile
was on his lips. He was looking up
into Ranjab's shadowy, unsmiling face,
dimly visible in the glow from the
distant street lamp. For long time
they stared at each other, no sign of
recognition passing between them. The
Hindu's face was as rigid, as emotion
less as if carved out Of stone; his
eyes were unwavering. Frederic could
see them, even in the shadows. He
had the queer feeling that, though the
man gave no sign, he had something
he wanted to say to him, that he was
actually calling to him to come back
into the house.
Undecided, the man outside took
several hating steps toward the door
way, his gaze still fixed on the face in
the window. Then he broke the SPELL
1t was a notion on his part, he argued.
If he had been wanted his fathers
servant would have beckoned to him.
He would not have stood there like
a craven image, staring out into the
night. Having convinced himself of
this, Frederic wheeled and swung off
up the street once more, walking rap
idly, as one who is pursued. Turning,
he waved his hand at the man in the
window He received no response.
Farther off he looked back once more.
The Hindu still was there. Long after
he was out of sight of the house he
cast frequent glances over his shoul-
der as if still expecting to see the
lighted window and its occupant.
AS he made his way to Broadway,
somewhat hazily bent on following that
thoroughfare to the district where the
night glittered and the stars were
shamed, he began turning over, in his
mind queer notion that had just sug,
gested itself to him, filtering through
the maze of uncertainty in which he
had been floundering. 1t occurred to
him that he had been mawkishly sen
timental in respect to his father. His
attitude had not changed--he was seri
ously impressed by the feelings that
had mastered him-but he found him
self ridiculing the idea that his father
stood in peril of any description. And
suddenly, out of no particular trend OF
thought, groped the sly, persistent sus
picion that he had not been altogether
responsible for the sensations of an
hour ago. Some outside influence had
nodded his emotions for him, some
cunning brain had been doing his
thinking for him.
Then came the sharp recollection
OF that motionless, commanding figure
in the lighted window, and his OWL
puzzling behavior on the sidewalk out
side. He recalled his impression that
someone had called out to him just
before he turned to look up at the
window. It was all quite preposterous
he kept on saying over and over again
to himself, and yet he could not shake
off the unoanny feeling.
Earlier III the evening, without warn
ing, without the slightest encourage
ment on his part, there had suddenly
leaped into existence a warm, tender
and wholly inexplicable feeling toward
his father. At first he had beer
amazed By this unwonted, almost un
natural feeling, which later on devel
oped into something quite tangible IL
the way 0, an emotion, but he was be
ginning tc realize that the real mys
terry lay outside of any self-analysi:
he could make. Like shot there
flashed into his brain the startling
question: Was Raniab the solution
Was it Ranjab's mind and not his owl
that had moved him to such tender
resolves? Gould such condition bC