Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1919-08-08
Copyright. 1918. by Harper Bros.)


uEMET her walking among the trees,
- very near the place where they had
had their first long talk, months before,
when Jethro Fave was a prisoner in
the hut in the woods. Then it was
warm, singing summer; now, beneath
the feet the red and brown leaves
rustled, the trees were stretching up
gaunt arms to the winter, the woods
were no longer vocal, and the singing
birds had fed, though here and there
black squirrel, not yet gone to win
ter quarters, was busy increasing his
stores. A grounding scuttled across
/ his path. He smiled as he remembered
| telling Fleda that once, when he was
n little boy. he had eaten grounding.
and she had asked him if he remembered
the gipsy name for groundhog-hot-
chewitchi was the word. Now, as the
shapeless creature made for its hole,
it was significant of the history of his
life during the last summer. How
long it seemed since that day when
love first peepcd forth from their hearts
like young face at the lattice of a
sunlit window. Flcda had warned him
of trouble, and that trouble had come
In his mind she was a woman like
none he had ever known she could
| think greatly. act largely, give trcmen-
dously. AS he stood waiting, the Won
derful, ample life of her seemed to come
like n wave toward him, In his phi
/ losophy, intellect alone had never been
the governing influence. Intellect must
find its play through the senses, be
vitalized by the elements of physical
life, or it could not prevail. There was
not one sensual strain in him, but with
sensuous mind he loved the vital
thing. He was sure that presently
Gabriel Druse would disappear, leaving
her behind with him. That was what
he meant to ask her today-to be and
stay with him always. He knew that
the Romanys were gathering in the
prairie. They had been heard of here
and there, and some of them had been
seen along the Sagalac, though he knew
| nothing of that dramatic incident in the
woods when Fleda was kidnapped and
Jethro Fave vanished from the scene.
As Flcda came toward him, under
from the sun months ago-now nearly
naked and bare-something in her look
and bearing sharply caught his interest.
He asked himself what 1t was. So
often n face familiar over half a life
time perhaps, suddenly at some new
angle. or because. by chance, one has
looked at it searchingly. shows new
expression. new contour never before
observed, giving fresh significance to the
character.
There was that in Ingolby's mind. a
depth of desire. resolve to stake two
lives against the chances of Fate. which
made him look at Fleda now with re-
vealing intensity. What was the new
thing in her carriage which captured
his eye? Presently it flashed upon him
memories of Mexico and the southern
United States; native women with jars
of water upon their heads: the erect.
we'll balanced form; the sure, sinuous
movement the step measured. vet free ;
the dignity come of carrying the head
as though it were pillar of an Atnen-
ian temple. one of the beautiful Carya-
tides yonder by the Aegean Sea.
1t smote him as sudden breath of
warm air strikes face in the night
coolncss of the veldt. His pulses quick
encd, he flushed with the soft shock
of it. There she was, refined. civilized,
gowned like other women. with all the
manners and details of civilization and
social life about her; yet in spite of it
all, she did not belong; there was about
her still something remote and alien
1t had not to do with appearance alone.
though her eyes were 50 vivid. and her
expression so swift and varying; it was
to be found in the whole presence
something mountain like and daring
something Eastern and reserved and
secret. something remote-brooding like
a Sphinx. and prophetic like a Sibyl.
But suppose that in days to come the
| thino that did not belong which was