The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1915-09-04

p1es at. sunset, as we saw it when we, first steamed in on the. old City of Ser lin, Helena"
 No answer.
 And do you recall Fujiyama, with the white top-remember the rcksha rides together, Helena P
 No answer.
 ,'"And then the f1ords of Norway and the mountains or the chalk cliffs off Dover? And those sweet green fields of England as we rode up to London town? And the taxis there, just you and I, Helena. with Aunt Lucinda hap oily evaded-just you and I? Yes, am thinking of forcing Aunt Lucinda to walk the plank ere long. Helena. l want q world all my own. Helena the world that was meant for us, Hele- ma, made for us-a world with no ltv ing thing in it but wonder mocking bird that's singing. and you and me" A"Cou1d you not dispense with the knocking, bird-and mel" she asked.
 No. q winced. at her thrust, how. ever). ''No. not with you. And you know in your heart. in the bottom of your trif1ing and fckle and worthless heart, Helena Emory, that if it came to the test and if life and hlI the world and all happiness were to be either all yours or all mine I'd go anywhere, do anything and leave it all to you rather than keep any for myself"
 -l"Go, them" f-.5=
 'If I might should. But male and female made he them. I spoke of us as units human, but not as the unit homo. Much as I despise you. Helena, I cannot separate you from myself in ny Va a n be like old Webster's idea of the Union tone and indivisible..s And. since L cannot divide us in any thought, I, John Doe alias Black Bart, alias the man you once called Harry, have re, solved that we shall go undivided, sink or swim, survive or perish. If the world were indeed my oyster. r should open it for both of us. But, say ing both, Ishould see only you. Isn't it odd, Helena ?,
 ''It is 11:3O,'' said she.
 Almost time for luncheon. Do you think me good provider,' Helena P
 "Humphi NIT. Davidson was. While your stolen stores last in your stolen boat I suppose we shall not be hun gry."
 .aOr thirsty P shedshrugged.
 fsOr devoid of guitar strings ?"
 ''I shall reed none!
 "Ah, but you will! It be1ilzes me much, fair maid. to disport me at ease this very eve, here on the deck, under the moon. and to hear you yourself. and none other, .fairest of all my cap lives. touch the 1ute, or whatever you may call it, to that same air you and I, fair maid. heard long ago together at lattice under the Spanish moon"
 E I !, I,ir cIo me without a word and threw open the door of her suit.
 And that night-that very night, that very Wondrous, silent, throbbing night of the Sabbath and the south, when all the air was, as it seemed to me, in satnrd tfon, in a suspense Of ecstasy, to be broken, to be precipitated, by a word a motion, a careSs, a note-that night, say, as I sat on the forward deck alone, I heard. far off and faint as though. indeed.-it were the lute of Andalusia. the low, slow, deep throb of guitar! My whole. heart stopped. was rloSmores than a focused demand of life. Reason Nass gone from me, not intellect but emotional that is it's basic thing, after all, emotion born on earth, but reaching to the stars. l1s- tened. not hearing. It was the air we had heard long ago-a love song of old Spain, written, perhaps. before De Soto and his men .perfshed in these very bayous and forests that now shielded us against all tumult, all turmoil, all things unhappy or unpleasant. The full tide of life and love swept through my veins as I listened.
 F rose, I hastened. At her door I paused "Helena.s called raucously. AHelena!''s And she made no reply. sHeIena!' called again. 1t was the same old air. This Is sospain again! An, I thank you for that same old air. Hel- ena, forgive me. May I come in-wil you come -out2"
 halted. A cold voice came from the companion way door. You have