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The following diagrams illustrate the method: tea cartas, plenches, tableaux, etc., peuvent itre filmte k des taux da reduction diffArents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour itra reproduit en un seul clichA, il est film* i partir da Tangle aupArieur gauche, de gauche A droita, at de haut en bas. en prenant la nombra d'images nAcessaira. Las diagrammas suivants illustrent la m4thoda. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 MICVOCOTY RESCHUTION TBT CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) !■■ 178 U£ I^H ti& |a2 tii Hi |X6 m us Im u 12^ 2.0 1.8 ^ APPLIED IIVMGE '653 East Main Street (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone (716) 288 -5989 -Fox The RIDDLE of LIFE " ^"^ Z """ "'"" ofbiUemcss calUd Man A„w: I prefer if cookej, with social sauce. ' BRrnv.M.sG The Riddle of Life A NOVEL '?r % WESLE'i OHNSTON Author of '* Dwellers i.. Gotham," "Philip Yoakley," etc. TORONTO : WIL LI A M B R I G G S I<)03 COPYRIGin igoa BY JEA'X/XGS &• PYE ALL RIGHTS KESEfiVED l!i If) To Richard B. Kelly, Esq. New York, N. Y. in grateful recognition of sincere and generous friendship. \ 4 ii I The RIDDLE of LIFE 1EANING over the rail of the upper deck of the ^ Albany steamer, Stephen Derwent watched the passengers as they came on, closely scan- ning each group with niingled interest and amuse- ment. It was rather late in the season for the usual rush to Saratoga, still a goodly share of those who came on board were bound for the famous springs. Others were going farther up the State; some to Lake George, some to Lake Champlain, while not a few had certain outward and visible signs which suggested the Adirondacks. It now lacked only a few minutes of sailing time, and a shade of disappointment gathered on Derwent 's face ; for he had arranged to go up the river with Fred Westerhall, a young man of about his own age, with whom he was on intimate terms. As a usual thing, Westerhall kept his engage- ments, though sometimes not appearing till the last moment. But he always had a good excuse, and, being blessed with a nimble tongue and a lively fancy, he generally contrived to give valid 9 lo a a THE RILDLE OF LIFE reasons for his failure to appear at the appointed time. If soi-ie of the young ladies on the promenade deck gave Stephen Derwent a glance more kindly than critical, no one could really blame them. He was tali, close upon six feet ; his features were not only regular, but gave evidence of strength; there was a positive set about his shoulders which meant more than mere physical vitality; and ihat clean- shaven face of his indicated both energy and will. At a casual glance he looked full thffty years of age ; but when one came closer to him, his youth- fulness became more apparent, and it would be seen then that he was not more than twenty-four or five at the most. "Rather a good-looking fellow," one young lady remarked to another, referring to Derwent, whose position at the rail on the upper deck brought him within easy range of their observing eyes. "Yes, he is both good-looking and handsome," the other replied, after a critical survey of the young man, a proceeding of which she was emi- nently capable. "That is a distinction not always made," the first speaker respondtd, then looking at Derwent more closely than before. "Say rather a distinction seldom made," was the rejoinder, accompanied with a smile and look, both of which were suggestive. "Your friend at the rail, I notice, has managed to bestow his handsome form in very becoming THE RIDDLE OF LIFE a a 1 1 raiment. That iweed suit was not selected in the dark, neither did that soft felt hat get on his head by chance." Theie was something inapt as well as flippant in this reply, but it awakened no protest. The lis- tener knew the irritation and disappointment that were back of it; hence, being a wise woman, she said nothing. "That young man's face is familiar to me," the first speaker observed after a pause, "and yet I am unable to recall where I have met hiin,'' "Your father's name is Wimbourne, I believe," the other answered with an amused smile. "He is a director in the Gotham Bank, if I am not mis- taken. You have sometimes gone with him to that favored institution. While there you — " "I remember now," the younger lady inter- rupted. "He is a clerk, or a cashier, or som nhing. Papa sometimes has stopped at his windo\f and got money. But I do n't know his nam.e, and never met him anywhere else." "That is a pity," dryly observed the other. "Otherwise he might have relieved the tedium of this trip up the -'ver, and given you the joys of male companionship from now till sundown." As Mrs. Bromley said this she smiled pleas- antly, and a gleam of genuine mischief flashed from her honest gray eyes. Just a moment or two before the steamer's sailing-tim^, a carriage rolled up to the gangway, from which Westerhall stepped out with even more alacritv than usual. The- , much to Derwent's 12 a THE RIDDLE OF LIFE surprise, he assisted a young lady from the car- riage, only, however, as a preliminary to the more serious task of aiding a man of perhaps sixty years of age, who looked as if he had barely recovered from a severe illne'ss. Resting one arm heavily upon that of the young lady, and the other within the arm of Westerhall, the invalid slowly walked to the main deck, where he sat down wearily in a chair near the gangway. Westerhall then re- turned to the pier, seeing to the baggage, which was promptly disposed of, and, after gathering up such articles as had been left in the carriage, he came back to the steamer. The gangway was now drawn ashore, the ship's deep whistle blew, fol- lowed immediately by the heavy ..eat of the pad- dles, and, swinging out from her dock, the steamer was soon heading up the Hudson River. Derwent was much perplexed at the turn af- fairs had taken. Westerhall had said nothing to him about these people with whom he was evi- dently on such intimate terms. Only that morn- ing he had received a message from him saying he would meet him at the boat as they had ar- rar.t"!. He hardly knew, therefore, just what was expected of him under these new conditions. He resolved, however, to go down to the main deck, but had hardly reached the foot of the saloon stairs before Westerhall saw him, and at once brought him over to the place where his friends were yet seated. Soon after the formal introduc- tions, Derwent learned that Mr. and Miss War- riston were relations of Westerhall, and on THE RIDDLE OF LIFE a a n their way to the upper part of the State. Mr. Warriston had now partially recovered from the fatigue of his ride to the steamer, so, with the help of Derwent and WesterhaU, he was able to reach the saloon deck. Miss Warriston sat beside her father, and the eager, anxious care with which she regarded him was manifest in every look and movement. But this did not prevent her from enjoying the glorious view on either side of the river, and her dark, wistful eyes would rest first on one shore, and then on the other. The abrupt, sharp line of New Jersey, develop- ing finally into the Palisades, gives to the Hudson at certain points a grandeur exceeding that of the Rhine. Here and there during the season the foliage is perhaps excessive ; for it obscures the mighty bowlders and clif¥s, and interferes with effects which otherwise would be ri'ggedly mass- ive. Then, at other places, the banks are seen sheer and bare, as though cleft with a giant's ax, and tower hundreds of feet above the water's edge. But as the steamer swiftly beats its way, the New York shore takes on boldness, and even sublimity, and there are masses of rock thrown as from Titanic hands, which, projecting far into the river, threaten to stay the vessel in its course. After a tin^e the hills gently slope away, disclosing homes sufficiently imposing to suggest baronial halls and feudal castles ; then others less pretentious, though elegant and impressive ; then, again, towns and villages coming down to the river's edge, eager to catch its cooling breath. 14 a a THE RIDDLE OF LIFE Eleanor Warriston saw the sui. struggle with the clouds which all day had enfolded it, scat- tering them with a mighty effort, as a dying chief- tain repels the enemies who have gathered around him on the sward. Then she saw the waters take on the changing glories of the sky, until the steam- er's track shone in m\ >terious light. With a look of wonder she watched the hills cover themselves in robes of purple and gold, as though the coming night meant a coronation. After this the sun went down, not sullen and discontented as so many lives finish their course, but mighty and triumphant, conscious of supreme victory even in the hour and article of death. Mr. Warriston saw nothing of this wondrous panorama, for his eyes were closed; but he was seeing other things, and they were not pleasant things to see. This Eleanor knew, as she turned from looking at the sky to mark the expression on her father's face. She did not speak, however, having already learned the mysterious value of silence. And Mr. Warriston understood her; this she realized by the grateful smile which for a moment hovered over his worn features. The shadows were now deepening rapidly ; for the even- ing twilight in August, though brilliant, is short. Indeed, with sundown, night is close at hand ; par- ticularly on the Hudson, where the high banks, lift- ing themselves into the sky, shut out the light yet lingering on the hills. Derwent, with instinctive delicacy, withdrew from the Warristons almost as soon as they had THE RIDDLE OF LIFE ^ 15 been comfortably settled in their chairs, Wester- hall going with him, so father and daughter were lef* to themselves. After a long pause, Mr. Warriston, in a low, sad tone, said: "Your summer, Eleanor, thus far has been a strange one, and now that you are going away from home it is likely to be even more strange." This was not the first time Mr. Warriston had made this remark, nor the first time he had spoken to Eleanor of these things. And yet there was a wistfu' inquiry in his voice, as if he would have her reassure him. Her reply, therefore, was more to his tone than his words : "Strange it has been, undoubtedly, and sad as well; but now that you are so much better, brighter days are ahead." "You think so?" "Most assuredly." "You speak with confidence." "Why not? A country life is full of possibili- ties. Beginning all over again, with a chance to profit by our experiences, has many advantages. W' o knows to what proportions we may both develop? Already I can see you hale and hearty, eager for the sound of the dinner-gong, tramping through the fields, concerned about turnips and cabbages and corn, a learned authority on cattle- feed; then sleeping so soundly at night that you will know nothing till the new day breaks in pieces over your defenseless head." "And you?" "I shall wear heavv boots, hobnailed if T can ilis^ V i6 ^ Jt THE RIDDLE OF LIFE find them; dresses to correspond, a poke-bonnet of the coal-scuttle persuasion, and become a farm- eress of the first magnitude." "Even then the picture is a fairly attractive one," Mr. Warriston replied, looking affectionately at his daughter. "Thank you, sir, for my share of the compli- ment ; for, of course, you include yourself as a burly farmer in the center of the canvas." The words were spoken pleasantly, lightly per- haps, but Mr. Warriston did not see the pathetic little quiver on his daughter's lips, or the shade f sadness pass over her sensitive face. Neither spoke again for some time, though the silence was not the result of either reserve or em- barrassment. It was rather the silence of perfect confidence, when words are unnecessary. And so the evening wore on, the shadows fall- ing softly on the river, the li-ht gradually fading from the sky. Then night came, gathering the weary earth within its dusky arms and stilling it to sleep. Soon Mr. Warriston went to his room, Eleanor also retiring to hers, and, after a time, the decks were almost deserted. But how plainly one could hear the beat of the paddles, and the water swishing against the vessel's side! And, like a mighty courser, the steamer rushed on, breathing flame and smoke through Its iron nostrils, and quivering with the throb of its engine heart. CLOSE up to the paddle-box, well within both shelter and shadow, two men were sitting. One war about forty years of age, of dark com- plexion, with a restle.- but strikingly handsome face, which bore the marks of eager and varied contact with the world. That he was strong, dar- ing, unscrupulous, full of ambition and desire, would be the first impression suggested. Still there was something singularly attractive—fasci- nating, perhaps, would be the better term— in his appearance. The other man was considerably younger, ten years at least, and altogether unlike, both in bearing and address. "It seems to me," said the younger man, hoX ing his cigar between his fingers, looking o. meanwhile upon the moonlit river, which just then was like a broad, silver ribbon, with dark, heavy edges, "that the restlessness and discontent of which you speak are often unnecessary. In such a world as this," waving his hand so the gesture included not only the river and the hills, but the 2 17 BHI i8 M THE RIDDLE OF LIFE sky as well, 'life need not be the barren, hopeless thing you describe." "Contentment, my dear sir," replied the other, in light, mocking tones, is only a word of three syllables found in dictionaries and books of devo- tion, but nowhere else." "There is nothing startlingly new in that re- mark." "No?" "It has been used in various forms for thou- sands of years." "Possibly: the fact however remains, and to dislodge a fact which is bedded in the experience of the centuries requires wisdom as well as genius." "Suppose we permit the centuries to take care of themselves. They usually do. My concern re- lates to the present day and generation. Let us bring this matter nearer home." "For what purpose?" "That we may apply it to ourselves." "The proper study of mankind is man." "The only study of mankind is man. In what way does it affect us, how many stars there are in the ^sky, or the duration periods represented in the world's creation? A few million stars more or less, or a whole billion c * years one way or the other, do not touch the actual life of the world. And the life of the world centers in two persons — a man and a woman." "* nother Eden," the mocking tone deepening to a positive sneer. "Yes. another Eden, with an Adam and an Eve. L.._ THE RIDDLE OF LIFE 19 1- m. The man may be a soldier, a sailor, a merchant, a priest. He may sweep crossings in London, sell newspapers in Paris, wear a yellow jacket in Peking, or a frockcoat in New York, but in each ca-. he is the same man, and his name is Adam." "How about the woman?" Again the tone was mocking, the speaker mak- ing no attempt to conceal his derision. "What is true of the man is true of the woman," was the quick reply. "In Lapland she may live in a snow hut ; in Switzerland, in a chalet ; in London, have a mansion ; in New York, an uptown hotel ; but everywhere she is the same woman, and her name is Eve." "Adam talks to Eve over a telephone wire." "Yes." "Eve uses a sewing machine on her fig-leaves." "What of it, so long as the sewing is done?" "Adam digs with a steam-plow." "He digs nevertheless." "Eve finds her highest bliss at bargain coun- ters." "Only the fig-leaves in another form." "And where is the famous apple-tree?" "In to-day's wrongdoing; in to-morrow's news- paper. Every story of sin and crime is the story of Eden." "And the Serpent?" "Never was more manifest than now." "Faugh! The world has outgrown that Arabian Nights' fable." "But the idea of the lablc remains." 20 a a THE RIDDLE OF LIFE "The whole thing is absurd." "Pardon me ; the idea is anything but absurd." "It is an Oriental legend." "It is the most absolute fact in human life." "You mean that an Eastern parable born in the dreams of some Persian necromancer has any re- lation to people who are living now?" "Certainly. Can you think of a crime that is not connected with forbidden fruit? In every ruined life do we not see the work of the Serpent ?" "We started on the matter of discontent." "And what is discontent but a longing for the forbidden tree? And so intent are most of us upon the apple which we can not have, that the other trees are well-nigh forgotten." Mr. James Bodell leaned back in his chair be- fore making any reply. His lips curled derisively, and a mocking light flashed from his eyes. "As a theorist, Mr. Carlisle," he finally said, maintaining his flippant, bantering tone, "you are destined to attain eminent success. But we can not all dwell on such altitudes. Most of us, per- force, occupy the common level ; and on this level people have desires. These desires are natural; they attract the eye, stimulate the mind, and give to life all it has by way of enjoyment and variety. With some people these desires are stronger than with others, but it is all a matter of will. Then, again, there are those too indolent to strive for things which jm beyond their reach. Many a man is a half saint because he is too dull or stupid to be anything else. The reason many people THE RIDDLE OF LIFE ^ 21 have n't eaten that apple you talk about is because they lack the energy to pull away the fence or courage to climb the tree," It was now Carlisle's turn to pause. Though so much younger than Bodell. he was more cool and easy in conversation, rarely raising his voice above its regular pitch. But from the emphasis which Bodell gave to his closing words, Carhsle felt that the subject had reached its Umit. So he contented himself with looking at the river which just then was in comparative gloom, a thick cloud having overspread the moon. "By the way," said Bodell, after a pause of con- siderable length, "did you see Mr. Warriston when he came aboard?" "No," replied Carlisle. "Is he on this boat? Both tone and look indicated his eager in- terest. "Yes; he got on just as we were leaving the pier." "Was he alone?" This question was asked with even more eager- ness than the former one, Carlisle forgetting for the moment his calm, easy habit of speech. Bodell noted the evident anxiety of his questioner, giving him a keen, searching look. Then he replied : "No; his daughter was with him; also young Westerhall. Westerhall is Mr. Warriston's nephew or cousin, I do n't remember which." Nothing more was said for some time, each man waiting for the other to resume the conver- sation. The subject evidently was not a pleasant mtm w 22 ^ a THE RIDDLE OF LIFE one ; yet both felt, now it had come up, that some- thing more must he said. But, unlikf .1 game of chess, the first move would be a disadvantage. Bodell, conscious of a certain impatience which was growing stronger every moment, tried to work off some of his irritation by vigorous puffing at his cigar. He therefore blew out great clouds of smoke, accompanying each cloud with such stress of breath as to send it over the vessel's side. Then he moved restlessly in his chair, only to find each position more uncomfortable than the other one. More than once he flashed a keen and angry glance at Carlisle. But Carlisle's face was impassive. Whatever his thoughts were, he held them rigidly to himself. He sat with the utmost composure, giving no heed seemingly to the restless move- ments of Bodell. He had discovered, years before, that the quick, nervous man, however energetic or masterful, rarely has the power to sustain his speech at critical moments. He was familiar with the story of Samson, whose prodigies of valor, aided by the jawbone of a despised quadruped, are among the most wonderful on record; but he re- membered that this same Samson committed sui- cide with his own jawbone when he gave the secret of his life to Delilah. Ethan Carlisle was a lawyer, and was both keen and shrewd, but he had other and higher qualities of mind. Shrewdness and cunning seldom indicate breadth or vigor of intelligence. When a person approaches to the nature of a fox, he declines by just so much in real manliness. The wisdom of I ' J ' X THE RIDDLE OF LIFE ^ -3 * % I the snake always means a likeness to the snake itself. But Carlisle's type of mind was of a very different order. . „ "Warriston's aflair was of his own seekmg, said Bodell, turning upon Carlisle with ill-sup- pressed anger. ,. , • "So I have heard," Carlisle replied, m a tone void of all feeling. "But you do n't believe it," was the angry re- sponse, each word spoken with an intensity which sent it like a bullet from a rifle. "My belief one way or the other is a matter of no importance," said Carlisle, with the same achromatic tone as before. "Still, as I understand the matter, some one else was involved. A man like Warriston would not practically beggar him- self without urgent reasons." "You refer to his son?" "If you say the affair was of his own seeking, why do you refer to his son?" "I might have known better than discuss War- riston's affairs with you," said Bodell, rising from his chair, and with savage energy throwing his cigar over the ship's rail, watching it fly like a tiny rocket, then drop into the river. He was now furiously angry. But Carlisle seemed in no way disturbed. Not a sign of agitation revealed itself. To Bodell this was maddening. Heedless, there- fore, of all restraint, he burst out passionately : "The apple on your tree is Eleanor Warris- ton ! ' understand your parable now." Th. words were barely spoken before Carlisle 24 a a THE RIDDLE OF LIFE rose up, and with a quick, contemptuous move- ment walked away, not deigning to make reply. Except for a glint in his eye, seldom seen there, and a compression of the lips not usual with him, no one would have suspected how keenly he felt the coarse, brutal words of Bodell. Nor was the barbed sentence an arrow cast at a venture. The bow was dra\ n hastily, but his aim was keen, and with intern o reach his quivering heart. He knew that Bodell waa merciless, and to accomplish his purpose would use any means, however cruel. He could have replied, and with the same cool phrase as before — for his self-mastery was superb — ^but he refused to descend to the level Bodell had chosen. After he had gone, Bodell lit another cigar; but it did n't bu. a to suit him, so he threw it away. Then he leaned over the steamer's rail, looking at some farmhouses which stood out clear and peace- ful in the moonlight; but the frown only deep- ened on his brow, and the fire burned more fiercely in his eyes. After a time he returned to the saloon, hoping to find some people, acquaintances of his whom he had seen earlier in the evening; but the lights were turned down, and he saw only the stewards drowsing in their chairs, within easy hear- ing of the electric bells. Finding everything quiet, and being in no mood for a midnight promenade, he retired to his room. But Carlisle was not the only one who heard Bodell's words, or felt their terrible sting. Not far from where he sat when speaking with Bodell, L ^ 1JI,!L. .Ul."Hi.>> Hi ' . J *^ M THE RIDDLE OF LIFE a a 25 1 a sad-faced woman, at her state-room window, was looking out upon the mighty parable of the night. Though weary with the care and anxiety of many days, her thoughts were crossing and recrossing each other, like the shuttle flying through the warp, weaving a web of mysterious pattern. But the quiet sky was beginning to diffuse something of its peace upon her troubled heart: and the cool night-air, so grateful after the glare and heat of the day, was gradually quelling the fever in her blood. In another moment she would havr shut her window, calm and tranquil, ready for the burden of the coming morrow, when she heard : "Eleanor Warriston is the apple on your -ree. I understand your parable now." The voice she knew only too well, and \s -he recognition came both anger and shame. Qu.ckly she shut the window, fearful of hearmg the voice again. And now i* mattered little to her that the sky was clear, and the heavens filled with light. An awful darkness had fallen upon her soul, and when, after weary, despairing hours, her eyes closed in sleep, she could hear as in a dream : "Eleanor Warriston is the apple on your tree. I understand - parable now." ^^ IF Mr. Bodell had gone to the upper deck instead of the salof^n, he might have found companion- ship; for Derweni and Westerhall were there. Nor would their conversation have failed to in- terest him, as just then they were speaking of the VVarristons. "I didn't know they were going out of town," Fred said, in his impetuous way. "In fact, I al- most stumbled upon my uncle in the Fifth Avenue Hotel, about noon to-day, where I had an engage- ment with Sturgis. You know Win Sturgis. Mr. Warriston, though, is not my uncle, but a cousin of my mother. I have known him ever since I was so high/' laying his hand on the upper rail of a camp-chai^ "and I got into the habit of calling him uncle, which seemed the proper thing to do. Don't you think so?" To this Derwent assented, but without special enthusiasm ; for Westerhall's relationships did not concern him nutch. "Seeing Uncle Warriston was a grent surprise 26 ™i^"Wf!^^^ THE RIDDLE OF LIFE a 27 to me," Fred went en ; "but I was still more sur- prised to learn that he and my Cousin Eleanor were going up the river on this boat." "Mr. Warriston has been ill, has he not?" Der- went inquired. "Yes; but there has been more than sickness. I do n't understand it, for my uncle is very close- mouthed at times. Still, by putting sonic things together, I have reached my own conclusions." "Not always a safe thing to do," Derwent re- plied, indiflferently. Derwent had peculiar notions respecting the sanctity of personal matters. The noble virtue of curiosity, the only virtue some people seem to possess, had no place in his list of endowments. He therefore tried to divert Westerhall's thoughts in another direction. But there are times when the current is so strong that it rolls on, heedless of any attempt to change its course. This was now the case with Westerhall. "I won't say that Uncle Warriston was sand- bagged — that perhaps would not be the right term — but there was robbery, arrant robbery. Of that I am sure. It is likely that those who took part in it could not be arrested as burglars or high- waymen ; but that is the class they belong to. And there came near being murder as well as robbery, for Uncle Warriston had a shock which almost killed him. Then, his son Robert has gone ofif somewhere in disgrace, and the shame of this is worse than everything else. The whole thing is terribly sad. I am awfully sorry for my Cousin essvB ■Ml 28 a THE RIDDLE OF LIFE Eleanor, and I mean to do everything I can to help her." Westerhall stopped, for which Derwent was grateful. Already he had heard more than was his right; more, by far, than Westerhall should have told him. But men, and women too, need to be careful when they discuss private matters on river steamers. For the wind, instead of dispersing words as it does on land, bears them with singular clearness to listeners whom we do not dream of. Carlisle, after leaving Bodell, came to the upper deck anxious to find a secluded spot where he might think out, and fight out, something of the passion which had been aroused within him. Seeing a vacant chair under the shadow of a lifeboat, he sat down, and, taking off his hat, allowed the cool night-air to play upon his burning brow. Though his face was impassive as marble, and there was neither quiver nor movement on his lips, yet a mighty passion possessed him, a tempest, that stirred his deepest soul. These men who are calm, self-contained, suffer infinitely more than the creatures of impulse and anger. To open the sluicegates of wrath, and allow the raging torrent to escape, is an easy thing to do ; but to hold one's self as in the hand of a giant ; to grapple with the demon which has broken loose in the soul ; to take him by the throat with such a grasp that not even his incoherent ravings may be heard ; t(- force him back to his mysterious hiding-place, riveting anew the chains upon hi? mighty limbs,— to do all this, with a face in which no trace of passion can be <• THE RIDDLE OF LIFE ^ 29 tip found, requires an eflfort of which few are capable. This Carlisle could do ; but to him, as to all others of his kind, there came the terrible reaction. The waters, churned by the paddles, flung against each other by the remorseless beat of the iron blades, rushing as if in mad fury to break into waves of wrath on the river's bank, fierce, restless, rising a' 'f from unknown deeps, sug- gested the awful struggle in his soul. And still Bodell's words rung in his ears. Everywhere he turned, the m.ockim? face of Bodell presented itself. Then he would hear the taunting voice: "Eleanor Warriston is the apple on your tree. I understand your parable now." But a peace from a source far beyond the stars, and infinitely more gracious and healing than any anodyne of earth, came upon him, and looking up to heaven he silently gave thanks. After a time the murmur of voices broke upon him, in which the name of Warriston was spoken, and, before Carlisle could recover from his sur- prise, Westerhall had given Derwent the story to which he listened so reluctantly. "It is time to turn in," Derwent said, rising from his chair. "For fellows cooped up in the city as we are, a night on the Hudson is glorious. And such a night, too ! But there is a to-morrow which has for me a long train-ride. I will therefore take the balance of my moonlight out in dreams." "No dream for me when I can have the reality," Westerhall replied, also rising from his chair, only, however, to reach for another one which looked i. 30 THE RIDDLE OF LIFE more inviting. Then he proceeded to make him- self st.ll more comfortable by using his former seat as a foot-rest, lighting a cigar, and assuming an attitude of picturesque enjoyment. Derwent still lingered ; for, in all truth, he was loath to go below. "I have my opinion of a man who can leave such a scene as this," Westerhall said. "Moon- light on the hills, a sky almost cloudless, air so cooling to the icvered brow, the whole deck to sprawl over — and huddle within the limits of a state-room 'cabined, cribbed, confined,' — I never knew before what that meant. The poet evidently had you in his mind." "I know some men who set up as poets, who have nothing whatever in their minds," Derwent answered, slyly. "One on me," Westerhall remarked, at the same time blowing out a cloud of smoke. Then they both laughed, each at the other, after which Derwent went to his stateroom, leaving Westerhall in undisturbed possession of the deck. Next morning, soon after the boat came to her dock in Albany, Derwent hastened to the railroad station. Mr. Carlisle, at the ticket office, made sundry inquiries about the Adirondacks, but before taking his seat in the train he sent a telegram to New York : "A zi'cek of Saratoga waters ivould be good for the Dolphin. £ (^-_" ifti THE RIDDLE OF LIFE 31 This rather singular message he addressetl "Mr. Hobart Craig, New York," who received it later in the day, and attended to it in due form. Mr. Bodell remained on board the steamer for n.iarly two hours after most of the other passen- gers had left. But theie was no immediate hurry in his case, as he was going to Saratoga, and could get a train at almost any hour. Still he regretted not having gone earlier ; for, as he was leaving the brat, he came face to face with the Warristons. Mr. Warriston, who was leaning upon his daugh- ter's arm, supported also on the other side by Fred Westcrhall, looked at him as if horror-stricken, and for a few moments was so nervous and fright- ened as to be almost helpless. Miss Warriston felt her father's shiver of dread before she saw Bodell, and wondered why he was so disturbed. Mr. Bodell had both desired and dreaded this meet- ing. He could not but observe the effect of his presence upon \.r. Wa'rriston, and also the look so manifest on Miss Warriston's face. Still he came forward, and, in the most courteous terms, asked if he might not render some assistance. Miss Warriston's reply was not given in words. There are times when words are the coarsest and clumsiest form of speech, no more adapted to the needs of the rioment than a blacksmith's tongs to a watch movement, jhe therefore only looked at Bodell, but that was sufficient to make further reply unnecessary. A man's tongue, however skilled and plausible, has small chance against a woman's eye. Mr. Bodell's tongue was both fluent j^iL 32 THE RIDDLE OF LIFE and keen, but, as compared with Miss Warriston's eye, it seemed like a wooden sword measuring itself against a blade of Damascus steel. But being a man of consummate art, he covered his defeat with a forced smile, and a bow too profound and deferential to be unmixed with mockery. Soon he was on his way to Saratoga, and later in the day the Warristons started on their journey north- ward. RIDGEBURG could not by any possibility be regarded as a village of vigorous enterprise. Situated fully six miles from the railroad, thus in- volving a rtage-ride neither romantic nor exciting, it was not a popular resort in any sense of that term. Its name, however, was not a misnomer, for the village in most parts occupied a ridge, from which the thrifty farms sloped down on either side. Several of these farms were skirted by lakes, to which title the sheets of water had valid claim, for they were too large and dignified to be called ponds. Standing well back from what was known as the street, so far as to have something of a lawn in front, there was a house of the usual order of village architecture. Two fine old trees, stately and luxuriant, on each side of the walk leading to the front door, gave to this house an air of im- pressiveness, also suggesting both permanence and comfort. True the farm connected with this house was not large, neither wei - the family overbur- 3 33 w n i HIJ,»