The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1939-01-20
CHAPTER 1

The blow was as heavy as swift,
for till then I had always been given
the best that money could buy.
From the day / was born ! had
wanted for nothing at all, and,
though my parents were dead, /
had never been led to expect any
other estate. And then, one fair
June morning, when the sills OF the
windows Of Oxford were gay with
flowers, / learned that my sole trus-
tee had gambled my fortune away.
BY the help Of the Head Of my
College, / soon obtained work In
London for which I was paid Just
35 shillings a week, and though l
believe that might have done bet
ter than that, in my efforts to rise
] met with so much unkindness that
I presently withdrew from battle
for which / was i'll equipped.
had another reason for staying
in Red Lead Lane.
had companion in misfortune
Ia man Of some fifty summers,
who, too, had seen better days. His
name was Matthew Gering-or so
he said: for though he looked Eng
lish enough, his speech sometimes
betrayed an alien blood. That he
was of gentle birth was unmistak-
able and I think that he may have
been gifted-till misery dulled his
wits. He seemed the better for my
coming to share his lot, and after
two or three months ] moved to
the humble lodging at which he had
lived by himself for IS years. 1t
was soon after this that / knew that
could not leave him, If only for
PHYS sake.
This was the way Of it.
The manager Of the warehouse at
which we were used as clerks was
q man upon whose vita1s class ha-
tired seemed to feed. Disappointed
Of bigger game, he preyed with a
bitter fury on what he had. For 10
years poor Gering had been his butt,
enduring "the sings and arrows"
of what I can only describe as "a
mind diseased: but my arrival did
something to take the strain, for he
had to divide his attentions if was
to have my share Of inhumanity.
And so ! stayed where / was for
nearly two years, when two things
happened together, to set me free.
One gusty, April morning poor
Gering could not rise. and when I
had brought him a doctor, against
his will, the latter told me plainly
that he was a dying man.
'He has no resistance" he said.
ga chill could have put him out
and this is congestion of the lungs"
OF course did what could, but
when / came back from my work on
the following day, I knew at once
that Gering had seen his last dawn.
And so did he.
.'Not very long now. Exon" he
said quietly -.
It must have been near ten
o'clock, and we had spoken no word
for nearly an hour, when he put a
hand under the blankets and drew
out sheet Of foolscap, folded in
four.
II would like you to read this"
he said. II wrote it down years ago.
But no one has ever read it. Tit
would not have been well received.
/ have even considered all day
whether should show it to you-you
who have done so much for a bro
ken man. You see, am like dog
that has been i'll used for so long
that he is suspicious Of kindness
and ready to bite the hand that
makes to caress his head"
With his words he began to cough,
and the paroxysm which followed
frightened me out of my life. At
least five minutes went by before
the seizure had passed, and this left
him so weak and shaken that even
child would have known that the
end was at hand. Indeed, had for
gotten the paper, when his trem-
bling fingers thrust it against my
sleeve.
/ sat back on my heels and read
the following words.
NV true name is Rudolf Gilbert Virgil
and am the ninth Count Of Brief-an
ancient Austrian House. My mother died
when was three. Her only other child
was my twin-brother. born an hour after
myself. He was, as they say. bad hat.
In 1910 married an English girl and a
daughter was born to US In 1912 We
lived with my father at Brief, which
stands to the east Of Innsbruck. from
which it Is distant hundred and twenty
miles. In the spring of 1914 my father
received some news from the English
police My twin-brother was under ar
: rest on charge Of forgery. ! left for
England that night TO see what could be
done. Arrived In London. ! sought q
solicitor. and, on my going surety. my
brother was admitted TO bail
The case was unanswerable. And from
what the solicitor said It was perfectly
clear that II Ferdinand stood his trial.
re would be sent TO prison for several
years. When we were at last alone. my
brother fell on his knees and begged mo
a the name Of our mother to help him
70 make his escape. Like fool
agreed 70 do 90.
The day was Thursday. Early on Fri
day LEFT my brother n my rooms and
went out to make arrangements for him
to leave. Al did. did surreptifiously.
A ship was TO sail for South America at
noon on the following day. / booked his
passage IN an assumed name. ] pro-
cured him an outfit and had the things
sent on board. That evening I returned
"a to my rooms 70 ten him that an Waa wall