Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1925-12-21
SIR HARCRANE wENDEvER LOUNCED AGAINST

heavily on my left side. I've had a
queer spell or two since. and Dudley
our local man-thought I'd better
see YOU"
The physician nodded and stretched
out for his stethoscope.
1t was about half an hour later
when Hargraye Wendever passed
through the portals of the house in
Harley street and hesitated upon the
steps. Then he strolled down the
street.-the same street. the same
houses on either side. the same heavy,
gray atmosphere and slight drizZle of
rain. Yet he seemed suddenly to be
far removed from it all. to have step
ped into some foreign and to be sur
rounded with objects familiar enough
in themselves but belonging to some
other part of some one clse'S life. The
sort of shock which he had just re-
ceived might possibly have happened
to any one else, might have been dis
covered in the pages of fiction. might
have flashed across the mind for a
moment. conceived by the workings of
"A freakish ina Gination, but that it
should have happened to him.
strong. we'll living man in the prime
of life, was incomprehenSible. He
walked mechanically along the broad
pavement, and mechanically raised his
stick as he came across Il wandering
taxicab
Leaning back in the corner he tried
TO think. His mind. however, for the
moment refused to go forward or to
dwell upon that brief period OF drama
from which he had just emerged. 1t
fixed itself obstinately upon those few
breathlesS moments which had i'm
mediately preceded his accident. He
recalled the throbbing excitement of
the run, the inspiring sensation of a
fine horse moving under him. the sud
den realization that he was a little de-
tached from the rest of the field. The
fence ahead was unfamiliar. thicker
than he cared about, and that stunted
oak tree just in his line. Which side
should he take it? He made up his
mind and afterwards never hesitated.
jammed his hat a little farther down
upon his head, and went for it without
doubt or fear.
Then came the sudden vision of that
unexpected widening of the ditch,
almost pithole. on the other side
the crash, and darkness. Yes, it had
been a bad fall, but he had suffered
worse. He had recovered conscious
ness within few minutes, had almost
decided to dine with friends that
night, but had been dissuaded. And
now-what was it the doctor had said
of him--of no other man-of him,
Hargrave Wendever? The thing was
incredible.
That night Hargrave Wendever
gave dinner party to three men. all,
Is it CHANGED, old school fellows, at
his fiat in Berkley square. On his
right sat Philip Gorse, a clergyman of
the most modern type, miracle
worker. who few years previously
had taken over q great barnlike
church in the heart of London with
an occasional congregation of a few
score, which he now filled to overflow
ing three times on Sundays and twice
n, week. He had two great gifts
earnestness and eloquence-and he
was possessed of a nervous, almost
passionate hatred of all sorts of hum:
bug. He was a fair, rather delicate
looking man, clean shaver. with a
lined face, a sensitive mouth, and
clear gray eyes. He wore ordinary
dinner clothes, cut in the most correct
fashion. and his tempered enjoyment
of his hosts hospitality left nothing
to be desired.
On the latter's other side sat Lord
Edward Pellingham, a young man who
had played at diplomacy and dabbed
in politics, but was best known in his
world by reason of delightful dispo-
Sition and a philosophy which entailed
placid acceptance of the good things
which fall to the lot of even tho fourth
son Of a duke with an adequate allow
ance.
he~concluding member of the party
was John Marston--pink and white
and prosperous, with faXen hair
brushed close to his head, a partner in
the firm of stock brokers which Har-
graves great-gra ndfather had found
ed and in which, for a short time,
Hargrave himself had been Il partner.
They had been speaking of Philip
Gorse's amazing success. and during
a pause in the conversation, Hargrave
asked him a question.
Tell me. Philip" he inquired, did
you ever try to account for the amaZ-
ing hold you seem to have acquired
over those astonishing congregations
of yours? OF course, we all know
you have the gift of speech-we real
lied that at OXford-but there must