Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1923-04-18
CHAPTER VIII
The Princess.

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Lexington was angry with himself
for having slept, for he had intended
to spend the night hours in finding
some chance of escape, and now, in
daylight, he knew no more of the city
than before. He could not accept the
imnossbility of such a task, for his
thoughts ran continually upon plans
for flight.
Breakfast arrived-fruit and tea
and brown biscuit, with the added
courtesy of cigarettes in an ivory box
The round-headed gray negro squatted
nearby while his master ate, and Con
wondered how many kinds of blood
were mixed in his heart.
The roof was blue with morning
shadow The city seemed to lie chiefly
on the opposite side of the palace, out
of LevingtOn's view, for only few
poor houses bordered the edge of the
fields he saw to westward. A white
fog was steaming up, Obscuring the
low hills that marked the western
boundaries of Tau Kuan. The gray
visaged monkey was also present,
waiting nervOusly at one end of the
bench for his share. He grabbed up
a biscuit, but was as disappointed as
Con had been. There was no salt IN
it. But the tea was fragrant and
Scalding, and the tobacco was sun
gold from Tartary.
Hadn't you better go home to
breakfast?" suggested Lexington.
The little beast did not think so.
He stared at the white man, his beady
bright eyes seeming to express mute
warning, with centuries of regret.
When the gray boy had taken away
the Dishes Con stretched and renewed
the process of wondering. His nor
NAL powers of thought, that had been
Snatched away in surprise and fatigue,
had returned He wanted to talk 20
himself, to quicken his own American
identity. He smiled to think OF him
self as a United States secret agent.
Wolves or wine or the jab Of q blade
in the dark, any fight in the open
Con prayed for these hearty strlfes'
But the desert city, the palace maze
was against hope. This evil gentle
ness was a strain upon him. 1t was
far from cheering to remember that
Andrew March had lost his nerve.
Con looked at himself in the clear
shield, and did not recognize the haru
brown face reflected. The sun that
had darkened his skin had bleacheo
his soul. The garb of a Tartar trans
formed more than mere appearance
white blouse above a wide sash, legs
wrapped from hip to knee in Whlte.
He removed the snug turban, ana
glanced again, to see if any semDlance
remained of himself. He saw IN ms
own eyes the tension of one VINO
knows death to be near.
Impatience seized him, ana ne
crossed the roof to the stairway. No
one prevented his going down. TO the
left were a walled gar,len, the sing
ing of a bird, and a dull rhythlnic
sound like pumping. He went TO the
open gate. The garden, close waiieu'
was rooted with vines, which con-
Cealed the bird. A bronzed Save
nearly naked, lounged against tue
arch at the gate. A radiance, SOFT anu
cottony, was reflected upward from
the smooth tagging of the path. Lev,
ington did not Immediately understand
the persistent beating.
This garden was a green and fras-
rant stiffness in which rested paIan-
quin with curtains parted. Beside
this, on the gray stones, men were
kneeling, five of them, old warriors
whose day was nearly done. A~seconu
slave stood near. humping bone