The Greenville journal. [volume] (Greenville, Ohio) 1850-1918, 1916-04-20
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\ sharp attack of fever followed
H"rry's exposure and immersion. The
old woman of the inn knew no medlca-
m"utS. but she knew fever She piled
blankets on Gerry and let him sweat
il ont. On the third day nature, assist
"d by his magnificent physique, finally
routed the attack
He called the old woman. He asked
her If she remembered him. She peered
At him. mo, master" she said. Il do
n0' remember you. You are like the
forcg gner who was drowned, but he
is dead"
Gerry shook his head. mot dead"
he said, only disappeared"
You are not he" said the old wom-
an. He could not talk words that
"ne could understand"
Gerry nodded gravely. He felt as
though words could never make him
smile again. II have learned" he said.
Now tell me what became of the
things left here" He went through
the list.
fhe old woman checked off each
stem and then shrugged her shoulders
She led him to a little dark room
whose only light came from the inter
niceS Of the tiled roof. AS his pupils
expanded he began to make out one
after another of the bags that had
made up his travelling kit.
There is letter." she said, and
went off to fetch it. Gerry dragged
the bags out into the light. Their locks
were all sealed with the seal of the
american consulate at PernambucO.
He started knocking off the brittle
wax. The old woman came back with
The letter and handed 1t to him. He
fore il open. 1t was a note from the
consul saying that by order of Gerry's
wife his things had been sealed and
left at the inn, telling him where to
fud the keys. The room. he learned
7rom the old woman. had been paid
for regularly, at first by the month,
then by the year. She felt no resent
ment at his return. only resignation.
You are the only guest I've had since
you went away" she said quantity and
with a sigh.
Fear nothing" said Gerry kindly.
You have been faithful. You may
consider the room engaged by me for
the next ten years."
fe carried his bags into the room
overlooking the river and then lay
down. He was too tired after the fe-
yer to open them. He knew that the
opening Of those dust-covered bags
with their rusted metal fittings was
going to be another ordeal.
The next day Gerry sat before his
unpacked bags. He had turned out
all their contents. On the bed, the
floor. the table and the chairs was
piled such an array of linen and shoes
and suits of various cut and weight as
ne had once deemed the minimum with
which a man could decently travel.
Now they seemed to him wasteful and
futile. The clothes did not carry his
mtnd back as he had expected. The
starch in the linen had gone yellow.
He had always hated yellow collars.
The suits struck him as belonging to
someone else-all except one. One
sturdy suit of tweed had a cut that
was different from the others. OF all
the clothes it alone seemed to have
a personal note-the note he had ex-
pccted to find in the bags and had
shrunk from.
Then he remembered. This suit had
been made by his own tailor. He had
worn it during a flying visit to Red
Hill. He had had it on the day he
Eeft New York. He had worn it that
morning in Alix' room. Red Hill came
back to him, Alix stood before him.
Through the suit he saw her room, the
shimmering blue Of her dressing gown,
her crown Of hair and her thin fingers
busy with it He felt again the nip
Of the dear air as it had streamed in
through the open window.
The worst of the food was over
Gerry engaged search party. All day
SOng they sought for Margarita and her
child. Towards night they found them,
Ehe little boy tight clasped in his
mothers arms. Gerry laid them ten
derly In the canoe and in silence the
party crawled back up the river to
Plranhas. No one looked curiOusly at
fhe burden they carried up through