The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1936-02-07
STORM MUSIC

of people like Pharaoh and Pharaoh's
crowd. The times out of joint, my dear
John; and If I'm to help reduce 1t,
I've got to step out of my beat. And
here we are. Don't look. I'm going to
get off,"
As she gave me the reins, / had
the maddest impulse to throw myself
off my horse and take her into my
arms.
AS 1 pulled myself together
you're trembling, John. Are you
cold?"
"No," said l. "Pn dreaming. You
know how dogs shake and culver when
they're dreaming some curious dream"
"What are you dreaming?" asked
Helena.
"That you and / have ridden up
through the forest to the castle to
which you belong; that the dawn's
coming up, like the frost on a glass
of cold water to wake a workaday
world; that you're standing there with
Sabre, looking at me and smiling"
Her smile deepened into laugh.
"Am l so unreal?"
"Oh, no. You're wonderfully real.
But all the rest is fantastic-the hour,
the setting, our having the world to
ourselves. And you've done it all,
Helena. You've made the magic, Gre
ated the atmosphere. When you go,
it's going to go, too. It's terribly
hard to explain" I concluded feebly
enough; "but 1 think you've a power
you don't know of, and that's the
truth"
81 shall have to be careful" said
Helena.
1t was twelve hours later that I
opened a door of the Rolls and re-
garded the petrol-gauge. This was dis
concerning. There was fuel enough for
us to do our patrol; but If our quarry
appeared there was not enough fuel
for pursuit. There was nothing for it.
Before we did anything else we must
drive to some petrol-pump. For long
time / hesitated, considering whether
or no I should not go out forthwith
and fetch it alone. But in the end I
decided that, though 1t was most in.
convenient, had not sufficient warrant
for breaking my promise not to leave
Plumage by day. I, therefore, content
ed myself with cleaning and oiling the
engine. I drove the car on the apron
in front of the house, and in this
way the car was all ready and when
the time came, we should have but to
leave our saddles and take our seats.
Then I washed my hands and sat
down to write to my cousin; but he
never had his letter, for before / had
written page the farmers wife came
smiling to serve my tea.
What that good woman thought Of
Helena will hardly go into words All
her talk was of the Countess-of her
wisdom and understanding, Of her
lively beauty and charm, and since she
had seen her christened, she had mem
cries by the hundred to illustrate ev-
erything she said.
OF the Count, however, the woman
said nothing at all.
That evening I strolled in the mea-
dows, until it was time to change, and
I shall always remember the stiffness
that hung like mantle about the
meadows and woods. Not that the air
was heavy; there was no sign of thun-
der; the sky was clear. Yet the calm
was that which sometimes precedes
the tempest-a strange, unnatural con-
dition that was not peace.
.
When 1 rode into sight of Yorick, I
saw that a flag had been hoisted on
one of the towers. l could not see the
device, for the breeze had fallen to
nothing, and the bunting was lying
lifeless against the staff. No flag had
been flying on Tuesday, when Godfrey
and had visited Yorick for lunch, but
I supposed that today was some festi-
val which 1t was the custom to honor
Throughout the land.
My supposition was wrong.
AS / was ushered into the library,
Helena rose from table and took my
hand.
my brothers arrived" she said.
"He's only been here twenty minutes,
and, as he's brought friend with him,
I've had to put off dinner till half past
eight. But that's nothing. What really
matters is that he's rather a hand
full. :"
I took my seat beside her on a sofa.
"John," she continued, Il ought to
have told you before, but / thought
that he'd give me more notice. I'd
only time to send the car to the sta
ton to meet his train"
Remembering what she had told me
of other guests
'And his friend" said l.
She shrugged her shoulders.
"Oh, the usual sort, suppose. /
haven't even seen him. Never mind.
The point is this. Valentine must know
nothing of what is afoot. He doesn't
know of the gold, and he must not
know. He mustn't know about young
Florin, except that he's dead. I've
told him I've lent you Plumage-you
and your cousin, Of course: that your
cousin painted our uncle Is reason