The Brandon news. (Brandon, Miss.) 1892-1961, 1916-06-22

the stubs or pegs hung MS clothes ana
Margarita's and, on the lowest peg o.
all, tho Lilliputian garments Of the
Man. The floor was bare and rolling,
for the boards, roughhewn from hard
wood giants of the forest, had warped
steadily through many years. In its
center stood the great rustic bed that
Gerry had made from the twisted
limbs of trees and Bonifacio had plait-
ed with thongs. BY raising himself
to the full length Of his arm Gerry
could see Margarita lying uncovered
on the coarse, yellowish homespun.
On her bare, brown arm lay the black
head of her son.
Gerry shuddered at the nearness--
the familiarity-of everything. The
seams of elementary life stood out bru-
tally. For the first time he saw them.
From the touch II the coarse homespun
that covered him, his mind went back
to the feel Of Lieber's fine linen, and
from that it poised on Alan and then
flew back to Alix-Alix, who, seen
through the years, became doubly ethe-
real and fowerlike. Where was AK?
What had Alan done with her? He
must ask him. That, at least, he must
know. But before he could ask he
must decide about Margarita and steel
himself to his purpose. He thought OF
the long, still days at Fazenda Flores
before Alan had come to Lieber's-the
struggle and the reward that had been
his-and the firmness in him, the
steadfastness that had led Alan to
name him The Rock, rose up in de-
tense Of Margarita and her son.
Gerry was up early. AS he was
saddling True Blue Margarita came on
to the veranda where art thou go
ing" she asked.
Gerry looked up. He was a
little pale from the wakeful night
and there were slight shadows under
his eyes. II am going to Lieber's.
There is sick man there-he is dying
and I must help. He is my fellow
countryman."
Margarita's eyes searched his face.
Her bosom rose and fell rapidly. "Do
not CO." she said, and Gerry started at
the passion in her voice.
He looked at her and smiled. IL
must see this man before he Dies he
said, half to himself.
"Ah," said Margarita, beating with
her little brown fist on the veranda pill
lar, 81 know. know. 1t is not death
that calls thee Why should one turn
from things that live to fondle death
1t is the stranger thou wouldst see"
Gerry dropped the reins Of his horse,
and, hurrying up the steps, took Mar
garita in his arms.
"And why not, my beloved? 1t Is
not woman go to see, but a man.
Shall l not talk with man that is
at deaths door?'
'Let him but die" pleaded Marga-
rita; "let him but die and thou shalt
90 and bury him. See, the day Is
beautiful. There is cloud. Perhaps
It will rain. Come, my Geree. let us
go down to the river and swim. We
will take the Man. He shall sit on the
bank and the river will play with his
bare toes. He viii laugh"
Gerry smiled but shook his head.
Tomorrow, my beloved, tomorrow we
shall play with the Man and the river"
Margarita's arms fell to her sides
in pathetic surrender. She watched
Gerry mount and ride slowly up the
slope to the bridge where Kemp await
ed him. Then she went back to the
veranda steps, sat down and wept
with her face hidden in her hand. She
did not know why she wept, but she
knew she wept for things that were
going to be.
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