Roanoke Rapids herald. [volume] (Roanoke Rapids, N.C.) 1914-192?, 1917-08-31
"What answer did you give hlm2"


HE mentioned no names at ALL"
John was silent for n moment. A
bewildarIng thought had taken hold OF
him. Surprising she were to be there
Stephen, watching him, read his
thoughts, and for moment lost con-
troll of himself.
Were you thinking about that wom-
am" he asked sternly.
"What woman?"
"The woman whom we sheltered
here, the woman whose shameless pic
ture Is on the cover Of that book"
John swung round on his heel.
"Stop that, Stephen !" he said men
acingly.
"Why should ~ the older man re-
torted. "Take up that paper, II you
want to read a sketch of the life Of
Louise Maurel. See the play she made
her name in-La Gioconda'"
"What about III"
Stephen held the paper out to his
brother. John read few lines and
dashed II into corner Of the room.
There's this much about 1t, John"
Stephen continued. 1.-THE woman played
that part night after niaht-played It
to the life, mind you. She made her
reputation In It. That's the woman
we unknowingly let sleep beneath this
roof! The barn is the place for her
and her sort 7"
Johns clenched fists were held firm
ly to his sides. His eyes were blazing.
That's enough, Stephen !" he cried.
"No, it's not enough !" was the fierce
reply" 1.-THE truths been burning In my
heart long enough. It's better out.
You want to find her a guest at Rayn.
ham castle, do youf-Raynham castle,
where never q decent woman crosses
the threshold II she goes there, she
goes WellT
An anger that was almost paralyz-
ing. sense Of the utter impotence OF
words, drove John In silence from the
room. He left the house by the back
door, passed quickly through the or
chard, where the tangled moonlight lay
upon the groHnd In strange fantastic
shadows; across the narrow strip Of
field. a field now q golden stubble; up
the hill which hooked down upon the
farm buildings and the churchyard.
He sat grlmly down upon a great
bowlder, filed with hateful sense N
unwreaked passion, yet with a sheer
thankfulne8 In his heart that he had
escaped the miasma of evil thoughts
which Stephens words seemed to have
created. The fancy seized him to face
these half-veiled suggestions Of his
brother, so far as they concerned
himself and his life during the last
few months.
Stephen was right. This woman who
had dropped from the clouds for those
few brief hours had played strange
havoc with Johns thoughts and his
whole outlook upon life. The coming
OF harvest, the care Of his people, his
sports, his cricket. the early days upon
the grouse mOors, had all suddenly
lost their interest for him. Life had
become task. The echo Of her half
hooking, half.challenging words was
always In bis ears.
He sat with his head resting upon
his hands, looking stcadfastly across
the valley below. Almost at his feet
lay the little church with Its grave
yard, the long line OF stacks and barns.
the laborers' cottages, the bailiff's
house, the whole little colony around
which his life seemed conferred. The
summer moonlight lay upon the ground
almost IKE snow. He could see the
sheaves Of wheat standing up In the
most distant of the cornhelds. Beyond
was the dark gorge toward which he
had looked so many nights at this
hour.
Across the viaduct there came a
blaze OF streaming light. a serpentlike
trail, a family heard whlsle-the Scot
fish express on Its way southwark
toward London. His eyes followed II
out Of sight. He found himself think
ing Of the passengers who would wake
the next morning In London. He felt
himself suddenly acuhely conscious OF
his isolation. Was there not something
almost monastic In the seclusion which
had become a passion with Stephen,
and which had Its grip, too, upon him
q waste Of life, burying Of talentsl
He rose to his feet. The half-formed
purpose Of weeks held him now, def
mite and secure. He knew that this pill.
grimage Of his to the hilltop, his rapt
contemplation Of the little panorama
which had become so dear to him. was
In a sense valedictory.
After all, two more months passed
before the end came, and II came ther
without a moments warning. II was
a little past midday when John drove
slowly through the streets Of Market
Ketton In his high dogcart, exchanging
salutations right and left with thu
tradespeople, with farmers brought
into town by the market, with nc
QuaintAnces Of all sorts and condi
lions. More than one young woman
from the shop windows or the pave
ments ventured to smile at him, ant
the few greetings he received from tn,
wives and daughters Of his neighbour
were as gracious as they could pOsslbl.
be made. John almost smiled once, II
the net Of raising his hat, as he real
lied how completely the whole charm
Of the world. for him, seemed to lie Il
one woman's eyes.
At the crossways, where he shoul
have turned TO the inn, he paused Will
a motorear passed. 1t contained
woman, who was talking to her host