The Bismarck tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, N.D.) 1916-current, 1917-07-14

few BYlgT' 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
knocking, half-challenging words was
always In his ears.
He sat with his head resting upon
his hands, looking steadfastly 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 Tbailin's
house, the whole little colony aroun6
which his life seemed conferred. The
summer moonlight lay upon the ground
almost like snow. He could see the
sheaves of wheat standing up in the
most distant of the cornfields. Beyond
was the dark gorge toward which he
had looked so many nights at this
hour. &.a.s
Across the viaduct there came
blaze of streaming light, serpentlke
trail, family heard whistle-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 fell
himself suddenly acutely 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
a waste of life, a burying Of talents:
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 it came Their
without a moments warming. It 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 the
tradespeople, with farmers brought
into town by the market, with &C:
uuaintances Of all sorts and cOndi'
lions. More than one young woman
from the shop windows or the pave
ments ventured to smile at him, and
the few greetings he received from the
wives and daughters Of his neighbors
were as gracious as they could possibly
be made. John almost smiled once, In
the act of raising his hat, as he real.
lied how completely the whole charm
of the world, for him, seemed to lie In
one woman's eyes.
At the crossways, where he should
have turned tol the bhh, he paused while
a motorcar passed. 1t contained o,
woman, who was taldngi to her host,
She was not in theA]Bast like Lou
1SC, ulll NCL lIlSlIlCtlNCIy AIC hAC"k ll0V
she was of the same world. The per.
lection of her white-serge costume, hel
hat so smartly worn, the half-insolent
smile, the little gesture with which she
raised her hand-something about hel
unlocked the floodgates.
Market Ketton had seemed well
enough few minutes ago. John ha6
felt healthy appetite for his midday
meal, and certain interest concerning
a deal in barley upon which. he was
about to engage. And now another
world had him in its grip. He ,ficked
the mareI with hfs Mhlpv turned away
from the inn, and galloped up to the
station, keeping pace with the train
whose whistle he had heard. Standing
outside was a local horse dealer Of his
acquaintance.
'"Take the mare back for me to Peak
Hall, will you, jenkins, or send one OF
your lads?" he begged. II want to
catch this train"
The man assented with pleasure-it
paid to do kindness for Strange
wey. John passed through the ticket