, 1923-12-05
p III
Flight.

followed Pierre Lands because he laid
his hand upon her wrist, and there
was another Joan who fled up the
mountain-slde at sight of him. as
though the fire that had once touched
her shoulder had burnt its way into
her heart. Then there was n third
Joan, II Joan astray. II was this Joan
that had come to Lazy-Y Ranch and
had cooked for and bullied 1.-The outfit"
whose W years lonely battle with
life had twisted her youth out of its
FIRST cOmely st~raightness. In Joan's
brief code Of moral law there was
one sin-the dealings of a married
woman with another man. When
Pierre's living and seeking face looked
up toward her where she stood on
the mountaln-side above Prosper's
cabin, she felt for the first time that
she had sinned. and so. for the first
time, she was a sinner. and the In
evitable agony Of soul began.
She fled and hid till dark, then
prowled about till she Knew that Wen
Ho was alone In the house. She came
like a spirit from hell and questioned
him.
''What did the men ask? What did
you tell themY
The men had asked for a lady. He
had told them. as Prosper had once
instructed him, that no lady was liv-
Ing there, that the man had just gone.
They had been satisfied and had left.
But Joan was still in terror. Pierre
must never find her now. She had
accepted the lie of a stranger. had
left her husband for dead, had made
no effort to ascertain the truth. and
had dealings with another man."
Joan sat In judgment and condemned
herself to loneliness. She turned her
self out from all her old life as though
she had been Cain. and, following
Wen Hos trail over the mountains,
had gone into strange lands to work
for her bread. She called herself
Jane" and her ferocity was the ar
NOR for her beauty. Always she
worked In fear Of Pierre's arrival,
and. as BOT as she had saved money
enough for further travelling, she
moved on. She worked by preference
on lonely ranches as cook or harves-
ter. and It was after two years Of such
life thai she had drifted into YarnaIl's
kitchen. She was then greatly changed.
as n woman who work to the full
stretch Of her strength. who suffers
~privation and hardship. who gives no
thought to her own youth and beauty,
and who. moreover. suffers under a
scourge Of self-scorn and fear, Is
hound to change. OF all the people
had seen her after months of
such living, Jasper Moreno vas the
only one to find her beautiful. But
with his sensitive observation he had
seen through the shell to the sweet
ess underneath for surely Joan was
sweet. n Fridays child. II was good
that Jasper hnd torn the skin from
her wound. good that he had broken
up the hardness Of her heart. She
left him and Yarnall that afternoon
md ven away to her cabin In the
trees and lay face down on the bare
boards OF the floor and was young
again. Waves of longing for love
and beauty and adventure flooded her.
For a while she had been very beau
tiful and had been very ~passionately
loved; for a while she had been sur
rounded by beauty and taught Its
meanings. She had fed from II all.
She hated II. yes. but she longed for
Il with every fiber of her being. The
last two years were scalded away.
She was Joan. who had loved Pierre;
Joan. whom Prosper Gael had loved.
Toward morning. dawn feeling with
white fingers through the pine boughs
into her uncurtalned window. Joan
stopped her weeping and stood Il
She ySas very tired and felt as though
all the hardness and strength had
been beaten from her heart. She
opened her door and looked at pale
stars and n still. slowly Frightening
world. In n hollow below the pines
n stream ran and poured Its hoarse.
hurrying voice Into the silence. Joan
bent under the branches. undressed
and bathed. The Icy water shocked
life back into her spirit. She began
to tlngie and to glow. In spite Of her
self she felt happier. She had beer
stony for so long. neither sorrowful
nor glad now. after the night Of sharp
pain, she was aware OF the gladness
of morning. She anne up from her
plunge, glowing and beautiful, with
loose, wet hair.
In the corral the men were watering
their tennis; above them on the edge
OF a mesa, against the rosy sky, the
other ponies. out all night on the range,
we're trooping, driven by a cowboy
who darted here and there on his
nimbie pony. giving shrill cries. In
the clear air every syllable was sharp
to the ear. every tint and line sharp
to the eye It was beautiful. very
beautiful. and II wns near and dear
20 har nafiye IN hpr-thfs loneliness