The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1917-10-19
CHAPTER xI-Continued.

ingly. "He thinks l am someone
named 'Ellnor,' and he calls me that.
AS my own rame is Sarah, it's rather
pleasant
Ward had been shot on Sunday
night. BY the following Wednesday
he was out of danger.
On that same Wednesday the rector
Of Saint Jude's brought himself and
his rheumatism back to his parish.
For three days Elinor had hardly
slept or eaten. Never once had she
been in Wards room, but always, day
and night, she was just outside. When
on that Wednesday evening the doctor
said Ward would live, she went down
once more into her garden.
Many times during those three days
had EIinor tried to pray to Wards
God and found herself voiceless and
inarticulate. But now, out of the
depth of her great relief, came yelling
the first prayer of her life. She stood
waist-deep among her phlox and lark
spur.
"I thank thee" she said. Il thank
Nothing had been heard Of Huff.
The assault en- the assistant rector Of
Saint Jude's had been Of line with
the other mysterious happenings
around the village The little town
was hag-ridden with fear. Extra con-
stables had been sworn in, and from
the hall, during her long night vigils,
Elinor had seen many lighted win
dows. where there had been but the
one.
The problem of her future began to
obsess her. 1t was plainly impossible
to stay on here-not that she feared
exposure; she was quite past fear
but the thought of going on with her
life was intolerable. To meet Ward,
TO see again the scorn and loathing in
his eyes, more than all, to continue to
deserve them-those were the things
THAI to Elinor seemed worse than
Heath itself.
All the philosophy that old Hilary
hat ought her failed her now. The
revolt of the individual against laws
made for the masses-what had 1t
brought her but isolation and grief?
OF what use was revolt? All must go
through the mills of the gods. She
knew that now. There were no eX-
ceptions. And something else she had
learned: that If one is to live through
great crises one must have a higher
power to turn to for help, She had
felt it vaguely at the time of her IA
thers death. Sitting outside Wards
door she had known it. Every breath
had been a prayer to something, she
knew not what, to save him.
"I thank thee" she said again.
The phlox and larkspur quivered
about her as if under the touch of a
gentle hand.
Boroday had been free for three
days, but beyond a telephone message
announcing his release she had heard
nothing of him. Over the wire he had
advised extreme caution. She judged
from that that things were not going
we'll
She knew that Huff's reckless crime
would demand q scapegoat. There
were bound to be arrests. All this
Elinor knew quite we'll 1t was in such
an atmosphere that she had drawn her
earliest breaths-the play of cunning
against cunning, wit against wit.
She did not send for Boroday. She
dared not But because the intimacy
between her and the middle-aged Rus
sian had always been very close, he
seemed to feel her need. And so, on
that Wednesday night. an hour or so
after midnight, he came.
Old Henriette came down and
tapped softly at Elinor's door.
''Boroday," she whispered. "He has
ruRg from the arbor."
That was one of old Hilary's de-
vices: hidden wire from the arbor
to the house. It prevented collisions.
Unless otherwise summoned, no men,
Der Of his band ever came directly to
the house.
Elinor went out and found him
there. He bent over her hand and
kissed it, as was his custom, and then.
realizing that she was crying, he held
out his arms and she went into them.
Very tender was the Russian with .-er
that night, very fatherly. He put her
into one of the arbor seats and sat
down beside her.
Now tell me-" he commanded,
"everything from the start. 1t was
Walter, I know But why?"
When she did not speak, the Rus
sian nodded.
Jealousy, of course, but what mad
ness!"
There in the arbor, with her hand
between two Of his, Elinor sobbed out
the story of the pearl ard her attempt
to return it, Huff's threat against
Ward, Wards evening visit, and the
scene between them; and last of all,
the shot that had nearly ended every
thing in this world for Ward and for
her. Boroday listened quietly; better
than old Hilary ever could, he under
stood. He had been reared on an an
cient faith.
HE is recovering"
YES"
"And he cares for you of course?"
mo. l think, perhaps, before he
knew"
BAH" said the Russian. and rose
"What sort Of love Is that which
changes2 1 have seen the man. If he
cared at all, he still cares"
He stepped to the door of the arbor
and drew long breath. Over on the
next Hill, sleeping through all this tur-
moil, lay old Hilary. Under these same
stars Huff fled the law, Ward tossed
on his bed, Elinor sat despairng and
ashamed. What did It all mean2 What
was the answer?
Perhaps, had he known it, old Hen
s'~tte coaid have told h!,n-~HenTistts.