The Mena weekly star., 1916-08-03

put OduTlelle CulLu hln AyA etclI to see the extended hand. There was hard line about the fine mouth, and without greeting-almost as though goaded by an impatient contempt-she went out of the open French windows into the brazen glare of the afternoon, Sylvia Arnaud watched the slight up- right figure vanish into the archway beyond the courtyard. She was vague ly disconcerted-like an actress left suddenly without her cue-and be. heath the tranquil consciousness of vir. tue there stirred the old hatred. the old mistrust
 In the sickroom all was still again. The blinds were drawn, and in the green-tinted shadows Desires face showed like a white light. She went softly over to his bedside and sat down. looking at him. His eyes were closed and he appeared to sleep. X cold wonder crept over her. He had changed so completely in those few months of their married life that the change ceased ato be terrible. This was not the man whose fieeting, un- known fascination had caught her rest less fancy-not even the man she had grown weary of. He was nothing-a mere husk of something that had once been. Still, as she sat there and looked back on those months, many things became triumphantly clear to her. She understood why she had grown weary, and why wearlness had changed to nausea. He was a bad man. He had sinned; he had let another suffer for him, and had pursued his victim with a relentless hatred. Her woman's in- stinct had recognized the evil and had passed judgment Beside him Rich ard Farquhars figure gleamed in the limelight of her imagination--a cheva- Tier of the old school, quixotlc and romantic. But she did not love him. Perhaps there was even somewhere in her vague contempt-at least a slightly patronizing pity strengthened by the knowledge that now his salva- tion was in her hands. Her thoughts passed on from him to the implacable, ruthless man who had come back to her out of the jaws of death, and to whom she was going with the sur render of her whole self And as she thought of him invisible hands tore down the veil, and she saw the pie ture that he had painted of her-saw 1t and shrank from it even though she knew that it was the insignia of his power.
 Desires eyes opened. They rested full on her face, and in their recogni- ton, tEeir r thetic, helpless worship she regained herself and the heights of her virtue. She bent over him.
 Are you better, Desire?"
 Sylvia" His hand groped feebly for hers. She touched 1t kindly. She would not reproach him. She was for giving him. He was going to die. And then she would be free. She did not think of her freedom. It was like a hidden pulse-beating persistently, feveriskly.
 T heard you call" she said. "Is there anything want? The nurse will be back in a moment"
 
 He caressed her hand with an in. finite tenderness.
 They are going to shoot him at daybreak," he said very gently And then all will be well, will it not? You will forget him. You will learn to understand-everything. We shall be- gin new life together in a new world, my wife. There will be no shadow between us where we are going"
 She shrank from him, half in horror. half in vague fear. He was dying. and he seemed so sure. He did not ask for forgiveness; there was no re- morse in his sunken eyes-rather a grave, serene pity. His hand still held hers. There was power in it's weakness which terrified her; she felt as though she would never be able to free herself.
 "Sylvla--yon will not leave me? feel as though 1 could rest with you beside me. You will stay2"
 'Yes-yes."
 'I have loved you so greatly, my wife l have been down to hell for love of you, and now I am fighting my way back-to you-to the light. Love ie stronger than sin-than death-than God himself" His voice trailed off again, his eyelIds dropped, hiding the pale light of ecstatic dellrium.
 The nurse entered on tiptoe.
 There Is a mana soldier-in the drawing room, madame" she whis- pered. He brings a message for