The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1936-12-04

She saw that ne was shaking,
and flushed and hot. There was
whisky remaining in the glass, and
she gave 1t to him. "Here," she
said, and managed a wry smile.
"You need this, yourself"
He drank the liquor, gagging over
the fiery draught. "She was all
right not twenty minutes ago." he
protested. as though dazed. Nancy
thought dispassionately that he
must be cold, in wet trunks and no
other garment.
"Dry yourself, Father" she
urged. "Get into some clothes"
She went out OF the room, and
Dan followed her, took her in his
arms. The door behind them closed.
She stood in his arms, rigid and
unyielding; and he said whisper
ingly:
\ "Sweet. sweet. I'm so sorry for
you'll"
SIT doesn't seem real. So-quick-
ly-" She cried: 1T can't bel
There must be something we can
do"
eff there was, your father" He
tried to lead her away. "Come
downstairs. sweet. Out of doorsl"
His arm through hers, he COM
PEELED her gently coward the stairs;
but then her fathers door opened,
and Doctor Breeding appeared, al
ready dressed save for his coat and
tie. He said: 81 can't seem to
think what to do"
Nancy went toward him; and Dan
said gravely: "I'n wake the serv-
ants-Thomas and the Others" He
left them together, went down the
stairs and along the path.
Nancy made her father come
downstairs. They stood before the
hearth where-though the night was
warm enough-a small fire burned.
She came beside him, and his arm
encircled ner. They STOOD thus for
a long time silent. side by side.
She felt herself outside wall, felt
a harsh barrier between them. His
arm burned across her shoulders.
|. Suddenly he said: "Im going
out, Nancy. Alone. / can't stay
here. Ask Dan to do-whatever is
necessary"
| He freed himself almost roughly,
and departed. This departure was
like fight. Doctor Greedinf fled
like a man pursued, out of the
house and along the tortuous path
through the dark woods. He barked
his shins against boulders without
knowing it, blundered into trees,
still stumbled on.
He went hall around the island
thus, needless of anything except
the desire to be alone, to hide. Then
he came to where the path crossed
an open ledge, and paused there,
painting. peering furtively all about.
Shadows surrounded him on three
sides; the dark water slumbered at
his feet. The very shadows, and
the black water, seemed to his ter
| ror-ridden fancy to hide ominouS
shapes; yet he could brave them.
But when he looked up, he saw
the unwinking stars, and could not
support their steady scrutiny. He
shrank hack into the covert OF the
| DARK WOOU dIlu CIOuCllCU IIlC1Ss IllS
| mead in his arms. trembling and
alone, waiting the stroke that must
pe even now preparing his destruc-
ton.
But by and by, since the human
soul can by use accustom itself to
any agony, be became calm again;
.eason, stif1ed at first by fear. lift
ed its head. He began to contem-
plate in the clear light Of normal
minds ms situation-and to take
| hope therefrom.
For none need ever know the
truth-since to any sober sense,
truth it could not bel He bounced
exultantly upon this thought. Truth
it could not be! Coincidence, GER
| tainly; a black and terrifying Co
incidence. But nothing more. It
would be madness to think other
wise. His wife was dead: and grief
must be his portion. But not fearl
And suddenly-his fears thus as
suaged-he grieved because Myra
was dead, and wept for her, and
| faore uara hiS easement