The Pulaskian. (Pulaski Heights [Little Rock], Ark.) 1915-1929, 1919-05-30
CHAPTER xxxIi.
The White Niqht.

-, ~ Going to bed. Tell Ling 1 don't
rant any dinner. He'll want to fuss
w. something. / don't want to see
food
rbe day, confused and jumbled,
.,,rnoa across his eyeballs; turmoil
~ hustle and hurry of insurrection. He
I'D made swift stand against that.
H. ,pas TO be minded to the last man.
s.ol, Of them, or anyone would go, his
.,s,.oot including the engineers, Silent,
Itch wooster, Hardin himself. This
was no time for factions, for leader
feeling.
In he'd. the day with it's limitations
faIl away. He could see now the step
ahead that had been taken the last
trestle was done; the rock-pouring
we'll on: he called that going some
He felt pleasantly languid, but not yet
sleepy. His thought wandered over the
resting camp And then Innes Hardin
came to him.
Not herself, but as soft little
thought which came creeping around
the corner of his dreams. She had
been there, of course, all day, tucked
away in his mind, as though in his
home waiting for him to come back to
her, weary from the pricks of the day.
The way he would COME home to her,
please God, some day. Not bearing
his burdens to her, he did not believe
in that, but asking her diversions. Con-
tentment spread her soft wings over
him. He fell asleep.
Richard wakened as to call. What
had startled him7 He listened, rails
ing himself by his elbow. From dis
lance, a sweet high voice, unreal In its
pitch and thrilling quality, came to
him. It was Godfrey, somewhere on
the ievee, singing by the river. 1t
brought him again to Innes Hardin.
he pulled aside his curtain which
hung over the screening of his tent
and looked out into a moon-fiooded
world Richards eyes fell on little
tent over yonder, white shrine.
white as that fine sweet soul of
hersl'
Wandering into the night, Godfrey
passed down the river, singing. His
voice. the footlights, the listening
great audiences were calling to him.
To him, the moon-fiooded levee, the
gstening water, made a star-set
scene. He was treading the boards,
the rushing waters by the bank gave
the orehestration for his melody-"La
Donna Mobile" He began it to Gerty
Hardin she would hear it in her tent
she would take it as the tender re-
proach he had leased her with that
afternoon in the ramada.
He gave for encore a ballad long
forgotten; he had pulled it back from
the eobwebs of two decades; he had
made it his own.
But, my darling, you will be,
Ever young and fair to me-
1t came, the soaring voice, to Tom
Hardin, outside Gerty's tent on his
lonely cot. He knew that song. Dis
dained by his wife, a pretty figure a
man cutsl If his wife can't stand
him, who can? He wasn't good enough
Tor her. He was rough. His life had
Kept him from fitting himself to her
taste. She needed people who could
TAX like Richard, sing like Godfrey.
PEOPLE, other people, might miscon-
strue her preferences. He knew they
We're not fiirtations; she needed her
Ill
KIND, She would always keep straight;
she was straight as a whip. Life was
as hard for her as it was for him; he
could feel sorry for her; his pity was
divided between the two of them, the
husband, the wife, both lonely in their
own way.
On the other side of the canvas
walls, Gerty Hardin lay listening to
the message meant for her. The tickle
sex, ne had called hers; no consistency
III woman, he had declared, fondling
ner hair. He had tried to coax her
INTO pledges, pledges which were also
uisaVoWals to the man outside.
Silver threadsl Age shuddered at
ner threshold. She hated that song.
oruei, lie had been to her; none of its
promises had been kept. To be happy,
"hy' that was a humans birthright;
sraD It, that was her creed! There
was a chance yet; youth had not gone.
iie was singing it to her, her escape
Darling, you will be,
Ever young and fair to me-"
godfrey, singing to Gerty Hardin,
aau awakened the camp. Innes, in
nef tent, too, was listening.
Darling, you will be,
Ever young and fair to mel"
30 that is the. miracle, that wild
susa OF certain feeling Yesterday,
aOuoting, tomorrow, more doubts but
,vnight' the song, the night isolated
'nell, herself and Richard, into a
morid OF their own. Life with him on
any terms she wanted.
CHAPTER xxxIII.