The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1916-10-27

| out our own salvation In our own way.
Out there In the desert he may find
peace"
! "And you?'
| my pardon and release were con-
firmed an hour ago. It was his own
request, and they could not refuse In
a few weeks l shall go back to Eng
land. My father has given me the
rough memoranda Of his plans. | shall
| work them out in detail-if possible to
| perfection. They will be offered in
| due course to the government I hope
that even now l may serve my coun-
try"
81 know you Will" The old fire
flashed into her voice. bat she did not
| look at him. She felt the piercing
eyes on her face: they seemed to reach
the innermost thought in her. They
silenced an empty phrase that she was
forcing to her lips.
Perhaps l am disturbing you." he
said abruptly. "You are writing let
ters?"
Yes"
"f To whom?''
She looked up with a touch Of fierce
defiance.
"Have you a right to ask?''
81 don't know am afraid"
"Of whom-of what?'
"Of you-of my happiness"
She was silent an instant, battling
with weakness.
''The letter is to you. Richard"
MAY / read itf'
mot now"
He took it from her, and she did not
resist. The roughness in his voice and
manner shook her as no gentleness, no
pleading could have done. This man
was indeed afraid. and this fear, linked
with that great strength Of purpose,
was at once terrible and pathetic. She
did not move, and he read the letter to
the end in silence. Then he tore it de-
liberately across and across. and the
pieces fiuttered to the ground.
II know all that guessed It, he
said brutally. "Yet out there on the
plateau you told me that you loved
me-"
SlC IOSG duu IdCSu uIu.
II do love you,' she said firmly. Il
am not ashamed to tell you so-even
now, for love like mine cannot hurt
you. But in those days it was all diff
ferent. believed that we were equals
that we were two outcasts who had
erred, not meanly or wickedly. but
recklessly, and that we We're fighting
our way back to the thing we had lost.
You were my comrade in exile, and
was yours. That was what believed.
But 1t was not true. You had lost
nothlng-and now your exile is over
'And SO you meant to desert me?
Had fate not brought me back here,
should have had to hunt the world over
for you"
81 thought that you would under
stand-that 1t was just"
What? That when was dying.
hunted and friendless. n vertable
worthless scamp, as you believed. you
condescended to love me. to go forward
shoulder to shoulder with me and make
life worth living. Now that I have
come into my own. that I appear more
worthy of happiness, am to be left to
march the desert alone. Is that jus
tice?"
"Richardt'
Haven't l had enough Of the desert
haven't you had enough? If you leave
ME now" His voice steadied. He
smiled wryly. I'm not threatening.
dear. BY this time have learned your
lesson: there han't be any more throw
ing down of teapons. Whatever hap
pens-whetf you stand by me or not
Il shall go "a. But 1t will be hard
going on-and 1t might have been q
glory"
She turned to him with 81 gesture of
helpless pain.
"Richard-my dear-don't you un-
derstand? 1t is fear Of dimming that
glory that drives me away from you.
What am 1? What should be to you?
\ drag-a heavy burden. Even II [
would cannot go back into the old
life. The world has passed Judgment
on the woman | was-the doors are
shut against her. Only Insignificant
little Gabrielle Smith can go her way
In peace
II care nothing for the worlds judg-
ment," he interrupted quietly. "Nor
| do you. IF there is anything behind
| those closed doors worth having
| which | doubt-we shall batter them
in. And 1t is not to the woman who
| was that am speaking. | do not ask
! her to go back anywhere. l ask her to
| go on with the life which we began to-
gether two years ago when she helped
n desperate. intoxicated boy up Mrs.
| Ferrier's stairs-incidentally back to
! reason and seif-reSpect. From that
night We have been comrades The
! grim laughter in his eyes faded. He
| held out his hand as though to take
| hers, then let ii drop. leaving her free.
And from that night I have loved
| Gabrielle Smith" he went on gently
''That was something you did not quite
! realize when you meant to leave me.
| Under one shape or another | have
| loved you all my life. Only when you
| first came | did not recognize you. You
hid behind the little gray shadow of
yourself and followed the mirage
| over the desert And ] suffered hadiy
Until found you. the reality .. all l
| believed in-thc oasis. DO you think
am going to let you turn ne out into
the loneliness and des0lation? You
| know that | shall not. Gabrielle" He
paused an instant. watching her. He
saw the light dawn behind the mist of
pain, and then he took her hands and
held them with a joyful strength. "YOu
saved my life twice" he said. And
you saved something greater than my
| life-my faith. That is q bond be-
! tween us no olc-not even you-ean
| break. We belong to each other as u
man and woman belong to each other
| norilnnS nll.L. IN q gCncIa;i iAn. Y02