Bonners Ferry herald. [volume] (Bonners Ferry, Idaho) 1904-current, 1916-07-21
CHAPTER VI-Continued.

Richard Nameless turned back to the
desert The Arabs had risen and an
elder was praying aloud, his aged,
tremulous voice leading the richer uni
son of the worshipers behind him.
with my face to Mecca and with a
sincere heart l offer my prayers to
Allah"
Miragel For those dark faced desert
children Mecca opened the gates Of
Paradise; for this dream Of unknown
happiness they waited and prayed, and
when their time came passed through
the great shadow with fearless, trium-
plant confidence.
He went back to his work. With
fierce, logged energy he pulled away
the deep-rooted weeds and brought
pathetic look OF care and order into his
corner Of the wilderness. For a mo-
ment he fingered over the grave which
Goetz had tended. The bald yet elo-
quent inscription touched him. He
wondered vaguely who Philip Grey
had been; If he, too, had paid price
and In the last hours of horror had still
been satisfied.
Two women had entered the GENE
terry. Their white-clad figures flashed
gayly In between the dark graves, and
clear, silvery laugh mingled with the
final Arab prayer
la Ilaha lila 'llahup'
The younger woman stopped an in
slant and pointed with the tip Of her
parasol at the broken remnant of a
cross.
"Look at these beadsl Aren't they
ridiculous? And the inscription-just
a number, like a convict's." She
glanced back over her shoulder at her
companion. miss Smith, believe you
are frightened. Do you think there are
ghosts here? Well, perhaps there are,
but don't mind"
AS yet the man standing immobile,
hidden amid the forest Of crosses, had
escaped her notice. But he had heard
her now, and, shadowy and ghostlike
enough in the dying light, awaited her
approach. At the foot of the English
mans grave she hesitated. The inscrip-
ton attracted her. With puckered
brows she spelled out the badly cut
letters, her soft voice touched with
Just the faintest ironical interest.
philip Grey-No. 3112-Foreign Lee
gion."
Then she looked up involuntarily and
saw the man who watched her, his
hand gripping the head of the cross.
1t was very quiet now. The Arab
prayer was silenced, and the white
figures of the worshipess had vanished
in the long olive k<nve leading back
to Sidi-bel-Abbes .syfvia Arnaud's
voice, when she spoke ct last, sounded
strained and harsh "a the absolute
quiet
FarquharP
He shook his heaarv mot Richard
Farquhar now" he ans erred. "Rich-
ard Nameless."
She seemed not to understand. Her
lips were little parted in the ex-
preston that he remembered. She
looked piteously frightened and incred-
ulous.
81 am sorry to have frightened you,'
he said gently. II did not mean that
you should ever see me-but you came
30 suddenly, and out in this desolate
place you were the last person l ex-
pected. Forgive me.'
''Yes-yes, it is a desolate place-it
makes me frightened. But 1 was told
1t was something l ought to see-and
few minutes ago wasn't frightened
at all. Now-I see ghosts every
where"
81 am one of them" he said.
She brushed her hand over her fore
head as though indeed trying to dispel
some terrifying specter. Her feeble
effort to regain ner previous laughing
courage failed. She was white and
trembling.