The Washington herald., 1920-03-04
YeHou Men Sleep
cHAPrER ao.-continued.
By JEREMY LANE,
Tlcopyrsbt. 1919. b. rhs csntury o.,

CHAPTER 20.-Continued.
Helen. in her great heaviness Of
heart. stared down at nothing. Flu
An gave up the task Of comforting
her. at the request OF his sister, who
rode close beside the princess.
Fansa's attention was In fact sorely
divided between the marveis Of an
unknown world and the sorrows of
her mistress. The Mongolian driver
showed Lexington into the lead. and
the white man was alternately
alarmed and joyous. He looked
back often. and his nerves crawied
each time he fancied q pun Of dust
in the south.
His best friend was gone, where
he had wished to go. Con saw what
had been in Andrew March's mind
when he told Of the seed poison
that leaves no dream behind, only
a stilied body. Con was not holding
that against his friend. The quiet
Investigator. who had weathered so
much. whose worldly grasp had
seemed SO strong and sufiicient, had
been broken when his illusion failed,
woman waiting for him, but in
another world. Just now. Leving-
tons deepest hurt was to recall
what he had seen in the devotional
chamber underneath the palace, his
princess in the same fragrant thrall.
Her father had come and gone by
strange laws.
NoSthward the camels strode,
stumbling into ravines Of chalk,
where the jutting walls marked
man and beast with a ghostly, chok-
ing frost-valleys full of red, twist
ed rocks that crumbled like burnt
paper at the touch. No halt through
the high noon, and the wind was
holding. Unless the riders had
taken the trail within an hour after
the departure. there would be no
following the little flying caravan.
whose path opened and closed in
passing. Before sunset they reach
ed the edge of a marsh of Oil that
glimmered purple and green. The
camelS whimpered and rolled back
their lips as the slime stuck to their
feet and they slipped against hid
den stones. Fumes arose from the
spoiled earth. A spring Of colored
Oil bubbled and sucked where they
passed. and O nest Of reptiles worm
ed rapidly through the ooze at the
approach OF Levington's head camel
Anxiously and often Con turned in
the saddle. peering into the south,
but the huge expanse gave no sign.
Helen seemed to live in a dull
tangle OF pain. She rode with eyes
closed. Training prescribed thoughts
of her father, the affectionate
stranger who had mastered the path
to her lofty city. only to meet ruin
in the yellow mans form of sleep.
The shock of his death brought a
heaviness that was uncomfortable, a
new destiny dropping down about
her like a cloak. But. oddly. the
images that passed before her vision
were not of Andrew March. He was
but the background.
She was thinking Of Chez Ming,
the brutal marks upon his head
lin that last moment, his dignity in
rage, the magnitude Of his defeat.
Pictures of his kindness came again
and again-how patiently he had
taught her. how he had brought
for her the pretty things of the
world. Once he had laughed out
right when a golden butterfly had
wan4ered in at the window and
rested upon his nose.
And at the same time in her own
way she was considering Lexington,
whom she trusted. hated, feared, ad-
mired-she could not define her feel
ing. Whenever he spoke to her all
the images of her dreams were shat
tered, and neither he nor she was
absshed by IL. She lived over the
moment when he had dared to come
to her apartment. had bent over
her. his strong arms trembling, and
every utterance straight from his
heart. The beating of her heart
must have told him that she was
not asleep, and yet she would not
have opened her eyes then for the
world.
(To Be Continued.)