PHI 
 
 OPPE^

 
 J2J2 

 
 THE HILLMAN
 
 What followed came like a thunder-clap. 
 FRONTISPIECE. See page 304.
 
 The Hillman 
 
 By E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM 
 
 Author of "The Kingdom of The Blind" 
 "Mr. Grex of Monte Carlo," Etc. 
 
 WITH FRONTISPIECE 
 By GEORGE AVISON 
 
 A. L. BURT COMPANY 
 
 Publishers New York 
 
 Published by Arrangement with LITTLE, BROWN & COMPANY
 
 Copyright, 1917, 
 Br LITTLE, BROWH, AND COMPANY. 
 
 All right* reserved 
 
 Published, January, 1917 
 
 Reprinted. January, 1917 (twice) 
 
 February, 1917 (twice) 
 
 March, 1917; April, 1917
 
 sni 
 
 URU . 
 
 5/15 
 
 THE HILLMAN 
 
 Louise, self-engrossed, and with a pleasant sense of 
 detachment from the prospective inconveniences of the 
 moment, was leaning back among the cushions of the 
 motionless car. Her eyes, lifted upward, traveled past 
 the dimly lit hillside, with its patchwork of wall-enclosed 
 .fields, up to where the leaning clouds and the unseen 
 heights met in a misty sea of obscurity. 
 
 The moon had not yet risen, but a faint and luminous 
 glow, spreading like a halo about the topmost peak of 
 that ragged line of hills, heralded its approach. Lou- 
 ise sat with clasped hands, rapt and engrossed in the 
 esthetic appreciation of a beauty which found its way 
 but seldom into her town-enslaved life. She listened to 
 the sound of a distant sheepbell. Her eyes swept the 
 hillsides, vainly yet without curiosity, for any sign of 
 a human dwelling. The voices of her chauffeur and her 
 maid, who stood talking heatedly together by the bon- 
 net of the car, seemed to belong to another world. She 
 had the air of one completely yet pleasantly detached 
 from all material surroundings. 
 
 The maid, leaving her discomfited companion with a 
 final burst of reproaches, came to the side of the car. 
 Her voice, when she addressed her mistress, sank to a 
 lower key, but her eyes still flashed with anger. 
 
 " But would madame believe it ? " she exclaimed.
 
 2 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " It is incredible ! The man Charles there, who calls 
 himself a chauffeur of experience, declares that we are 
 what he calls * hung up ' 1 Something unexpected has 
 happened to the magneto. There is no spark. Whose 
 fault can that be, I ask, but the chauffeur's ? And such 
 a desert we have reached 1 We have searched the map 
 together. We are thirty miles from any town, many 
 miles from even a village. What a misfortune ! " 
 
 Louise turned her head regretfully away from the 
 mysterious spaces. She listened patiently, but without 
 Any sort of emotion, to her maid's flow of distressed 
 words. She even smiled very faintly when the girl had 
 finished. 
 
 ** Something will happen," she remarked indiffer- 
 ently. " There is no need for you to distress yourself. 
 There must be a farmhouse or shelter of some sort near. 
 If the worst comes to the worst, we can spend the night 
 in the car. We have plenty of furs and rugs. You 
 are not a good traveler, Aline. You lose heart too 
 soon." 
 
 The girl's face was a study. 
 
 " Madame speaks of spending the night in the car ! " 
 she exclaimed. "Why, one has not eaten since lunch- 
 eon, and of all the country through which we have 
 passed, this is the loneliest and dreariest spot." 
 
 Louise leaned forward and called to the chauffeur. 
 
 " Charles," she asked, " what has happened ? Are 
 we really stranded here ? " 
 
 The man's head emerged from the bonnet. He came 
 round to the side of the car. 
 
 " I am very sorry, madam," he reported, " but some- 
 thing has gone wrong with the magneto. I shall have 
 to take it to pieces before I can tell exactly what is 
 wrong. At present I can't get a spark of any sort."
 
 THE HILLMAN 3 
 
 " There is no hope of any immediate repair, then ? " 
 
 The chauffeur shook his head dolefully. 
 
 " I shall have to take the magneto down, madam," he 
 said. " It will take several hours, and it ought to be 
 done by daylight." 
 
 " And in the meantime, what do you suggest that we 
 do? " she asked. 
 
 The man looked a little helpless. His battle of 
 words with Aline had depressed him. 
 
 " I heard a dog bark a little while ago," he remarked. 
 " Perhaps I had better go and see whether there isn't 
 a farm somewhere near." 
 
 " And leave us here alone ? " Aline exclaimed indig- 
 nantly. ** It is a good suggestion. It comes well from 
 the man who has got us into such trouble ! " 
 
 Her mistress smiled at her reassuringly. 
 
 " What have we to fear, you foolish girl ? For my- 
 self, I would like better than anything to remain here 
 until the moon comes over the top of that round hill. 
 But listen! It is just as I told you. There is no ne- 
 cessity for Charles to leave us." 
 
 They all turned their heads. From some distance 
 behind on the hard, narrow road, curling like a piece of 
 white tape around the hillside, there came, faintly at 
 first, but more distinctly every moment, the sound of 
 horse's hoofs. 
 
 " It is as I told you," Louise said composedly. 
 " Some one approaches on horseback, too. He will 
 be able to fetch assistance." 
 
 The chauffeur walked back a few yards, prepared to 
 give early warning to the approaching horseman. The 
 two women, standing up in the car, watched the spot 
 where the road, hidden for some time in the valley, came 
 into sight.
 
 V THE HILLMAN 
 
 Louder and louder came the sound of the beating of 
 hoofs. Louise gave a little cry as a man on horseback 
 appeared in sight at the crest of the hill. The narrow 
 strip of road seemed suddenly dwarfed, an unreasonable 
 portion of the horizon blotted out. In the half light 
 there was something almost awesome in the unusual 
 size of the horse and of the man who rode it. 
 
 " It is a world of goblins, this, Aline ! " her mistress 
 exclaimed softly. " What is it that comes ? " 
 
 " It is a human being, Dieu merci! " the maid replied, 
 vith a matter-of-fact little sigh of content. 
 
 Conscious of the obstruction in the road, the rider 
 blackened his speed. His horse, a great, dark-colored 
 animal, pricked up his ears when scarcely a dozen yards 
 away from the car, stopped short, and suddenly bolted 
 out on the open moor. There was the sound of a heavy 
 whip, a loud, masterful voice, and a very brief struggle, 
 during which the horse once plunged and reared so high 
 that Louise, watching, cried out in fear. A few mo- 
 ments later, however, horse and rider, the former quiv- 
 ering and subdued, were beside the car. 
 
 "Has anything happened?" the newcomer asked, 
 raising his whip to his hat. 
 
 He addressed Louise, instinctively conscious, even in 
 that dim light, that she was the person in authority. 
 
 She did not at once reply. Her eyes were fixed upon 
 the face of her questioner. There was little enough of 
 him to be seen, yet she was aware of an exceptional in- 
 terest in his dimly revealed personality. He was 
 .young, unusually tall, and his voice was cultivated. 
 Beyond that, she could see or divine nothing. 
 
 He, for his part, with his attention still largely en- 
 gaged in keeping his horse under control, yet knew, in 
 those first few moments, that he was looking into the
 
 THE HILLMAN 5 
 
 face of a woman who had no kinship with the world in 
 which he had been born and had lived his days. Those 
 were fugitive thoughts which passed between them, only 
 half conceived, yet strong enough to remain as first and 
 unforgetable impressions. Then the commonplace in- 
 terests of the situation became insistent. 
 
 " I have broken down," Louise said. " My chauffeur 
 tells me that it will take hours to effect some necessary 
 repair to the car. And meanwhile here we are ! " 
 
 " You couldn't have chosen a worse place for a break- 
 down," the young man observed. " You are miles 
 away from anywhere." 
 
 " You are indeed a comforter ! " Louise murmured. 
 " Do you think that you could possibly get down- 
 and advise us what to do? You look so far away up 
 there." 
 
 There was another brief struggle between the man 
 and his still frightened horse. Then the former swung 
 himself down, and, with the bridle through his arm, 
 came and stood by the car. 
 
 " If there is any way in which I can help," he ven- 
 tured, " I am quite at your service." 
 
 Louise smiled at him. She remained unoppressed by 
 any fear of inconvenience or hardship. She had the 
 air of one rather enjoying her plight. 
 
 " Well, you have begun very nicely by (doing what I 
 asked you," she said. " Really, you know, to an im- 
 pressionable person there was something rather terrify- 
 ing about you when you appeared suddenly from out of 
 the shadows in such a lonely place. I was beginning 
 to wonder whether you were altogether real, whether 
 one of those black hills there had not opened to let you 
 out. You see, I know something of the legends of your 
 country, although I have never been here before."
 
 6 THE HILLMAN 
 
 The young man was less at his ease. He stood tap- 
 ping his boot nervously with his long riding-whip. 
 
 " I am sorry if I frightened you," he said. " My 
 horse is a little restive, and the acetylene light which 
 your chauffeur turned on him was sufficiently alarm- 
 ing." 
 
 " You did not exactly frighten me," she assured him, 
 " but you looked so abnormally large. Please tell us 
 what you would advise us to do. Is there a village near, 
 or an inn, or even a barn? Or shall we have to spend 
 the night in the car? " 
 
 *' The nearest village," he replied, " is twelve miles 
 away. Fortunately, my own home is close by. I shall 
 be very pleased I and my brother if you will honor 
 us. I am afraid I cannot offer you very much in the 
 way of entertainment " 
 
 She rose briskly to her feet and beamed upon him. 
 
 " You are indeed a good Samaritan ! " she exclaimed. 
 " A roof is more than we had dared to hope for, al- 
 though when one looks up at this wonderful sky and 
 breathes this air, one wonders, perhaps, whether a roof, 
 after all, is such a blessing." 
 
 " It gets very cold toward morning," the young man 
 said practically. 
 
 " Of course," she assented. " Aline, you will bring 
 my dressing-bag and follow us. This gentleman is kind 
 enough to offer us shelter for the night. Dear me, you 
 really are almost as tall as you appeared ! " she added, 
 as she stood by his side. " For the first time in my life 
 you make me feel undersized." 
 
 He looked down at her, a little more at his ease now 
 by reason of the friendliness of her manner, although 
 he had still the air of one embarked upon an adventure, 
 the outcome of which was to be regarded with some
 
 THE HILLMAN 7 
 
 qualms. She was of little more than medium height, 
 and his first impressions of her were that she was thin, 
 and too pale to be good-looking; that her eyes were 
 large and soft, with eyebrows more clearly defined than 
 is usual among Englishwomen ; and that she moved with- 
 out seeming to walk. 
 
 " I suppose I am tall," he admitted, as they started 
 off along the road. " One doesn't notice it around 
 here. My name is John Strangewey, and our house is 
 just behind that clump of trees there, on the top of the 
 hill. We will do our best to make you comfortable," 
 he added a little doubtfully ; " but there are only my 
 brother and myself, and we have no women servants in 
 the house." 
 
 "A roof of any sort will be a luxury," she assured 
 him. " I only hope that we shall not be a trouble to 
 you in any way." 
 
 " And your name, please ? " he asked. 
 
 She was a little amazed at his directness, but she 
 answered him without hesitation. 
 
 " My name," she told him, " is Louise." 
 
 He leaned down toward her, a little puzzled. 
 
 " Louise? But your surname? " 
 
 She laughed softly. It occurred to him that nothing 
 like her laugh had ever been heard on that gray-walled 
 stretch of mountain road. 
 
 "Never mind! I am traveling incognito. Who I 
 am, or where I am going well, what does that matter 
 to anybody? Perhaps I do not know myself. You can 
 imagine, if you like, that we came from the heart of your 
 hills, and that to-morrow they will open again and wel- 
 come us back." 
 
 *' I don't think there are any motor-cars in fairy- 
 land," he objected.
 
 8 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " We represent a new edition of fairy lore," she told 
 him. " Modern romance, you know, includes motor- 
 cars and even French maids." 
 
 " All the same," he protested, with masculine blunt- 
 ness, " I really don't see how I can introduce you to my 
 brother as ' Louise from fairyland.' " 
 
 She evaded the point. 
 
 " Tell me about your brother. Is he as tall as you, 
 and is he younger or older? " 
 
 " He is nearly twenty years older," her companion 
 replied. " He is about my height, but he stoops more 
 than I do, and his hair is gray. I am afraid that you 
 may find him a little peculiar." 
 
 Her escort paused and swung open a white gate on 
 their left-hand side. Before them was an ascent which 
 seemed to her, in the dim light, to be absolutely pre- 
 cipitous. 
 
 " Do we have to climb up that? " she asked ruefully. 
 
 " It isn't so bad as it looks," he assured her, " and I 
 am afraid it's the only way up. The house is at the 
 bend there, barely fifty yards away. You can see a 
 light through the trees." 
 
 " You must help me, then, please," she begged. 
 
 He stooped down toward her. She linked her fingers 
 together through his left arm, and, leaning a little 
 heavily upon him, began the ascent. He was conscious 
 of some subtle fragrance from her clothes, a perfume 
 strangely different from the odor of the ghostlike flow- 
 ers that bordered the steep path up which they were 
 climbing. Her arms, slight, warm things though they 
 were, and great though his own strength, felt suddenly 
 like a yoke. At every step he seemed to feel their 
 weight more insistent a weight not physical, solely 
 due to this rush of unexpected emotions.
 
 THE HILLMAN 9 
 
 It was he now whose thoughts rushed away to that 
 medley of hill legends of which she had spoken. Was 
 she indeed a creature of flesh and blood, of the same 
 world as the dull people among whom he lived? Then 
 he remembered the motor-car^ the chauffeur, and the 
 French maid, and he gave a little sigh of relief. 
 
 " Are we nearly there ? " she asked. " Do tell me if 
 I lean too heavily upon you." 
 
 '* It is only a few steps further," he replied encourag- 
 ingly. " Please lean upon me as heavily as you like." 
 
 She looked around her almost in wonder as her com- 
 panion paused with his hand upon a little iron gate. 
 From behind that jagged stretch of hills in the distance 
 a corner of the moon had now appeared. By its light, 
 looking backward, she could see the road which they had 
 left below, the moorland stretching away into misty 
 space, an uneasy panorama with its masses of gray 
 boulders, its clumps of gorse, its hillocks and hollows. 
 
 Before her, through the little iron gate which her es- 
 cort had pushed open, was a garden, a little austere 
 looking with its prim flower-beds, filled with hyacinths 
 and crocuses, bordering the flinty walks. The trees 
 were all bent in the same direction, fashioned after one 
 pattern by the winds. Before them was the house a 
 long, low building, part of it covered with some kind of 
 creeper. 
 
 As they stepped across the last few yards of lawn, 
 the black, oak door which they were approaching sud- 
 denly opened. A tall, elderly man stood looking in- 
 quiringly out. He shaded his eyes with his hands. 
 
 " Is that you, brother? " he asked doubtfully. 
 
 John Strangewey ushered his companion into the 
 square, oak-paneled hall, hung with many trophies of 
 the chase, a few oil-paintings, here and there some
 
 io THE HILLMAN 
 
 sporting prints. It was lighted only with a single 
 lamp which stood upon a round, polished table in the 
 center of the white-flagged floor. 
 
 " This lady's motor-car has broken down, Stephen," 
 John explained, turning a little nervously toward his 
 brother. " I found them in the road, just at the bot- 
 tom of the hill. She and her servants will spend the 
 night here. I have explained that there is no village or 
 inn for a good many miles." 
 
 Louise turned graciously toward the elder man, who 
 was standing grimly apart. Even in those few sec- 
 onds, her quick sensibilities warned her of the hostility 
 which lurked behind his tightly closed lips and steel- 
 gray eyes. His bow was stiff and uncordial, and he 
 made no movement to offer his hand. 
 
 " We are not used to welcoming ladies at Peak Hall, 
 madam," he said. " I am afraid that you will find us 
 somewhat unprepared for guests." 
 
 " I ask for nothing more than a roof," Louise as- 
 sured him. 
 
 John threw his hat and whip upon the round table 
 and stood in the center of the stone floor. She caught 
 a glance which flashed between the two men of ap- 
 peal from the one, of icy resentment from the other. 
 
 " We can at least add to the roof a bed and some 
 supper and a welcome," John declared. " Is that 
 not so, Stephen ? " 
 
 The older man turned deliberately away. It was as 
 if he had not heard his brother's words. 
 
 " I will go and find Jennings," he said. " He must 
 be told about the servants." 
 
 Louise watched the disappearing figure until it was 
 out of sight. Then she looked up into the face of the 
 younger man, who was standing by her side.
 
 THE HILLMAN n 
 
 "I am sorry," she murmured apologetically. "I 
 am afraid that your brother is not pleased at this sud- 
 den intrusion. Really, we shall give you very little 
 trouble." 
 
 He answered her with a sudden eager enthusiasm. 
 He seemed far more natural then than at any time since 
 he had ridden up from out of the shadows to take his 
 place in her life. 
 
 " I won't apologize for Stephen," he said. " He is 
 a little crotchety. You must please be kind and not 
 notice. You must let me, if I can, offer you welcome 
 enough for us both."
 
 II 
 
 Louise, with a heavy, silver-plated candlestick in her 
 hand, stood upon the uneven floor of the bedroom to 
 which she had been conducted, looking up at the oak- 
 framed family tree which hung above the broad chim- 
 ney-piece. She examined the coat of arms emblazoned 
 in the corner, and peered curiously at the last neatly 
 printed addition, which indicated Stephen and John 
 Strangewey as the sole survivors of a diminishing line. 
 When at last she turned away, she found the name upon 
 her lips. 
 
 " Strangewey ! " she murmured. " John Strange- 
 wey! The name seems to bring something into my 
 memory. Have I ever known any one with such a 
 name, Aline?" 
 
 The maid shook her head. 
 
 " Never, madame, to the best of my belief," she de- 
 clared. " Yet I, too, seem to have heard it, and lately. 
 It is perplexing. One has seen it somewhere. One 
 finds it familiar." 
 
 Louise shrugged her shoulders. She stood for a mo- 
 ment looking around her before she laid down the 
 candlestick. 
 
 The room was of unusual size, with two worm-eaten 
 beams across the ceiling ; the windows were casemented, 
 with broad seats in each recess. The dressing table, 
 upon which her belongings were set out, was of solid, 
 black oak, as was also the framework of the huge
 
 THE HILLMAN 13 
 
 sofa, the mirror, and the chairs. The ancient four- 
 poster, hung with chintz and supported by carved 
 pillars, was spread with fine linen and covered with a 
 quilt made of small pieces of silk, lavender-perfumed. 
 The great wardrobe, with its solid mahogany doors, 
 seemed ancient enough to have stood in its place since 
 the building of the house itself. A log of sweet-smell- 
 ing wood burned cheerfully in the open fireplace. 
 
 " Really," Louise decided, " we have been most for- 
 tunate. This is an adventure! Aline, give me some 
 black silk stockings and some black slippers. I will 
 change nothing else." 
 
 The maid obeyed in somewhat ominous silence. Her 
 mistress, however, was living in a little world of her 
 own. 
 
 "John Strangewey!" she murmured to herself, 
 glancing across the room at the family tree. " It is- 
 really curious how that name brings with it a sense of 
 familiarity. It is so unusual, too. And what an un- 
 usual-looking person! Do you think, Aline, that you 
 ever saw any one so superbly handsome ? " 
 
 The maid's little grimace was expressive. 
 
 " Never, madame," she replied. " And yet to think 
 of it a gentleman, a person of intelligence, who lives 
 here always, outside the world, with just a terrible old 
 man servant, the only domestic in the house! Nearly 
 all the cooking is done at the bailiff's, a quarter of a 
 mile away." 
 
 Louise nodded thoughtfully. 
 
 " It is very strange," she admitted. " I should like 
 to understand it. Perhaps," she added, half to herself, 
 *' some day I shall." 
 
 She passed across the room, and on her way paused 
 before an old cheval-glass, before which were suspended
 
 14 THE HILLMAN 
 
 two silver candlesticks containing lighted wax candles. 
 She looked steadfastly at her own reflection. A little- 
 smile parted her lips. In the bedroom of this quaint 
 farmhouse she was looking upon a face and a figure 
 which the illustrated papers and the enterprise of the 
 modern photographer had combined to make familiar 
 to the world. 
 
 A curious feeling came to her that she was looking 
 at the face of a stranger. She gazed earnestly into the 
 mirror, with new eyes and a new curiosity. She con- 
 templated critically the lines of her slender figure in 
 its neat, perfectly tailored skirt the figure of a girl, 
 it seemed, notwithstanding her twenty-seven years. 
 Her soft, white blouse was open at the neck, displaying 
 a beautifully rounded throat. Her eyes traveled up- 
 ward, and dwelt with an almost passionate interest upon 
 the oval face, a little paler at that moment than usual ; 
 with its earnest, brown eyes, its faint, silky eyebrows, 
 its strong, yet mobile features; its lips a little full, 
 perhaps, but soft and sensitive ; at the masses of brown 
 hair drawn low over her ears. 
 
 This was herself, then. Did she really justify her 
 reputation for beauty, or was she just a cult, the pass- 
 ing craze of a world a little weary of the ordinary 
 standards? Or, again, was it only her art that had 
 focused the admiration of the world upon her? 
 
 How would she seem to these two men down-stairs, 
 she asked herself the dour, grim master of the house, 
 and her more youthful rescuer, whose coming had some- 
 how touched her fancy? They saw so little of her sex. 
 They seemed, in a sense, to be in league against it. 
 Would they find out that they were entertaining an 
 angel unawares? 
 
 She thought with a gratified smile of her incognito.
 
 THE HILLMAN i$ 
 
 It was a real trial of her strength, this! When she 
 turned away from the mirror the smile still lingered 
 upon her lips, a soft light of anticipation was shining 
 in her eyes. 
 
 John met her at the foot of the stairs. She noticed 
 with some surprise that he was wearing the 'dinner- 
 jacket and black tie of civilization. 
 
 "Will you come this way, please?" he begged. 
 " Supper is quite ready." 
 
 He held open the door of one of the rooms on the 
 other side of the hall, and she passed into a low dining 
 room, dimly lit with shaded lamps. The elder brother 
 rose from his chair as they entered, although his salu- 
 tation was even grimmer than his first welcome. He 
 .was wearing a dress-coat of old-fashioned cut, and a 
 black stock, and he remained standing, without any 
 smile or word of greeting, until she had taken her seat. 
 Behind his chair stood a very ancient man servant in a 
 gray pepper-and-salt suit, with a white tie, whose ex- 
 pression, at the entrance of this unexpected guest, 
 seemed curiously to reflect the inhospitable instincts of 
 his master. 
 
 Although conscious of this atmosphere of antago- 
 nism, Louise looked around her with frank admiration as 
 she took her place in the high-backed chair which John 
 was holding for her. The correctness of the setting 
 appealed strongly to her artistic perceptions. The 
 figures and features of the two men Stephen, tall, 
 severe, stately; John, amazingly handsome, but of the 
 same type; the black-raftered ceiling; the Jacobean 
 sideboard; the huge easy chairs; the fine prints upon 
 the walls ; the pine log which burned upon the open 
 hearth nowhere did there seem to be a single alien 
 or modern note.
 
 X6 THE HILLMAN 
 
 The table was laid with all manner of cold dishes, 
 supplemented by others upon the sideboard. There 
 were pots of jam and honey, a silver teapot and silver 
 spoons and forks of quaint design, strangely cut glass, 
 and a great Dresden bowl filled with flowers. 
 
 " I am afraid," John remarked, " that you are not 
 used to dining at this hour. My brother and I are 
 very old-fashioned in our customs. If we had had a 
 little longer notice " 
 
 " I never in my life saw anything that looked so de- 
 licious as your cold chicken," Louise declared. " May 
 I have some and some ham? I believe that you must 
 farm some land yourselves. Everything looks as if it 
 were home-made or home-grown." 
 
 " We are certainly farmers," John admitted, with a 
 smile, " and I don't think there is much here that isn't 
 of our own production." 
 
 '* Of course, one must have some occupation, living- 
 so far out of the world," Louise murmured. " I really 
 am the most fortunate person," she continued. " My 
 car comes to grief in what seems to be a wilderness, and 
 I find myself in a very palace of plenty ! " 
 
 " I am not sure that your maid agrees," John 
 laughed. " She seemed rather horrified when she found 
 that there was no woman servant about the place." 
 
 " Aline is spoiled, without a doubt," her mistress de- 
 clared. " But is that really the truth? " 
 
 " Absolutely." 
 
 "But how do you manage?" Louise went on. 
 " Don't you need dairymaids, for instance? " 
 
 " The farm buildings are some distance away from 
 the house," John explained. " There is quite a little 
 colony at the back, and the woman who superintends 
 the dairy lives there. It is only in the house that
 
 THE HILLMAN 17 
 
 we are entirely independent of your sex. We man- 
 age, somehow or other, with Jennings here and two 
 boys." 
 
 " You are not both woman-haters, I hope? " 
 
 Her younger host flashed a warning glance at Louise, 
 but it was too late. Stephen had laid down his knife 
 and fork and was leaning in her direction. 
 
 " Madam,'* he intervened, " since you have asked the 
 question, I will confess that I have never known any 
 good come to a man of our family from the friendship 
 or service of women. Our family history, if ever you 
 should come to know it, would amply justify my brother 
 and myself for our attitude toward your sex." 
 
 " Stephen ! " John remonstrated, a slight frown upon 
 his face. '* Need you weary our guest with your pecu- 
 liar views? It is scarcely polite, to say the least of 
 it." 
 
 The older man sat, for a moment, grim and silent. 
 
 " Perhaps you are right, brother," he admitted. 
 " This lady did not seek our company, but it may in- 
 terest her to know that she is the first woman who has 
 crossed the threshold of Peak Hall for a matter of six, 
 years." 
 
 Louise looked from one to the other, half incredu- 
 lously. 
 
 " Do you really mean it ? Is that literally true ? " 
 she asked John. 
 
 " Absolutely," the young man assured her ; " but 
 please remember that you are none the less heartily 
 welcome here. We have few women neighbors, and in- 
 tercourse with them seems to have slipped out of our 
 lives. Tell me, how far have you come to-day, and 
 where did you hope to sleep to-night ? " 
 
 Louise hesitated for a moment. For some reason or
 
 i8 THE HILLMAN 
 
 other, the question seemed to bring with it some un- 
 expected and disturbing thought. 
 
 " I was motoring from Edinburgh. As regards to- 
 night, I had not made up my mind. I rather hoped to 
 reach Kendal. My journey is not at all an interesting 
 matter to talk about," she went on. " Tell me about 
 your life here. It sounds most delightfully pastoral. 
 Do you really mean that you produce nearly everything 
 yourselves? Your honey and preserves and bread and 
 butter, for instance are they all home-made?" 
 
 " And our hams," the young man laughed, " and 
 everything else upon the table. You underestimate the 
 potentiality of male labor. Jennings is certainly a bet- 
 ter cook than the average woman. Everything you see 
 was cooked by him. We have a sort of secondary 
 kitchen, though, down at the bailiff's, where the pre- 
 serves are made and some of the other things." 
 
 "And you live here all the year round? " she asked. 
 
 " My brother," John told her, " has not been further 
 away than the nearest market-town for nearly twenty 
 years." 
 
 Her eyes grew round with astonishment. 
 
 " But you go to London sometimes? " 
 
 " I was there eight years ago. Since then I have 
 not been further away than Carlisle or Kendal. I go 
 into the camp near Kendal for three weeks every year 
 Territorial training, you know." 
 
 " But how do you pass your time? What do you do 
 with yourself?" she asked. 
 
 " Farm," he answered. " Farming is our daily oc- 
 cupation. Then for amusement we hunt, shoot, and 
 fish. The seasons pass before we know it." 
 
 She looked appraisingly at John Strangewey. Not- 
 withstanding his sun-tanned cheeks and the splendid
 
 THE HILLMAN 19 
 
 vigor of his form, there was nothing in the least agri- 
 cultural about his manner or his appearance. There 
 was humor as well as intelligence in his clear, gray eyes. 
 She opined that the books which lined one side of the 
 room were at once his property and his hobby. 
 
 " It is a very healthy life, no doubt," she said ; " but 
 somehow it seems incomprehensible to think of a man 
 like yourself living always in such an out-of-the-way 
 corner, with no desire to see what is going on in the 
 world, or to be able to form any estimate of the changes 
 in men's thoughts and habits. Human life seems to me 
 so much more interesting than anything else. Does 
 this all sound a little impertinent?" she wound up 
 naively. " I am so sorry ! My friends spoil me, I be- 
 lieve, and I get into the habit of saying things just as 
 they come into my head." 
 
 John's lips were open to reply, but Stephen once 
 more intervened. 
 
 *' Life means a different thing to each of us, madam," 
 he said sternly. " There are many born with the lust 
 for cities and the crowded places in their hearts, born 
 with the desire to mingle with their fellows, to absorb 
 the conventional vices and virtues, to become one of 
 the multitude. It has been different with us Strange- 
 weys." 
 
 Jennings, at a sign from his master, removed the tea 
 equipage, evidently produced in honor of their visitor. 
 Three tall-stemmed glasses were placed upon the table, 
 and a decanter of port reverently produced. 
 
 Louise had fallen for a moment or two into a St of 
 abstraction. Her eyes were fixed upon the opposite 
 wall, from which, out of their faded frames, a row of 
 grim-looking men and women, startlingly like her two 
 hosts, seemed to frown down upon her.
 
 so THE HILLMAN 
 
 " Is that your father ? " she asked, moving her head 
 toward one of the portraits. 
 
 " My grandfather, John Strangewey," Stephen told 
 her. 
 
 " Was he one of the wanderers ? " 
 
 " He left Cumberland only twice during his life. He 
 was master of hounds, magistrate, colonel in the yeo- 
 manry of that period, and three times he refused to 
 stand for Parliament." 
 
 " John Strangewey ! " Louise repeated softly to her- 
 self. " I was looking at your family tree up-stairs," 
 she went on. " It is curious how both my maid and 
 myself were struck with a sense of familiarity about the 
 name, as if we had heard or read something about it 
 quite lately." 
 
 Her words were almost carelessly spoken, but she 
 was conscious of the somewhat ominous silence which 
 ensued. She glanced up wonderingly and intercepted 
 a rapid look passing between the two men. More 
 puzzled than ever, she turned toward John as if for an 
 explanation. He had risen somewhat abruptly to his 
 feet, and his hand was upon the back of her chair. 
 
 " Will it be disagreeable to you if my brother smokes 
 a pipe?" he asked. "I tried to have our little draw- 
 ing-room prepared for you, but the fire has not been 
 lit for so long that the room, I am afraid, is quite im- 
 possible." 
 
 " Do let me stay here with you," she begged ; " and 
 I hope that both of you will smoke. I am quite used 
 to it." 
 
 John wheeled up an easy chair for her. Stephen, 
 stiff and upright, sat on the other side of the hearth. 
 He took the tobacco- jar and pipe that his brother had 
 brought him, and slowly filled the bowl.
 
 THE HILLMAN 21 
 
 " With your permission, then, madam," he said, as 
 he struck a match. 
 
 Louise smiled graciously. Some instinct prompted 
 her to stifle her own craving for a cigarette and keep 
 her little gold case hidden in her pocket. All the time 
 her eyes were wandering around the room. Suddenly 
 she rose and, moving round the table, stood once more 
 facing the row of gloomy-looking portraits. 
 
 *' So that is your grandfather," she remarked to 
 John, who had followed her. " Is your father not 
 here?" 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " My father's portrait was never painted." 
 
 " Tell the truth, John," Stephen en j oined, rising in 
 his place and setting down his pipe. " Our father's 
 portrait is not here, madam, because he was one of 
 those of whom I have spoken one of those who were 
 drawn into the vortex of the city, and who knew only 
 jthe shallow ways of life. Listen ! " 
 
 With a heavy silver candlestick in either hand, Ste- 
 phen crossed the room. He raised them high above his 
 head and pointed to the pictures one by one. 
 
 " John Robert Strangewey, our great-grandfather," 
 he began. " That picture was a presentation from the 
 farmers of Cumberland. He, too, was a magistrate, 
 and held many public offices in the county. 
 
 " By his side is his brother, Stephen George Strange- 
 wey. For thirty-five years he took the chair at the 
 farmers' ordinary at Market Ketton on every Saturday 
 at one o'clock, and there was never a deserving man in 
 this part of the county, engaged in agricultural pur- 
 suits, who at any time sought his aid in vain. They 
 always knew where he was to be found, and every Satur- 
 day, before dinner was served, there would be some one
 
 22 THE HILLMAN 
 
 there to seek his aid or advice. He lived his life to his 
 own benefit and to the benefit of his neighbors the 
 life which we are all sent here to lead. 
 
 " Two generations before him you see my namesake, 
 Stephen Strangewey. It was he who invented the first 
 threshing-machine used in this county. He farmed the 
 land that my brother and I own to-day. He was 
 churchwarden at our little church, and he, too, was a 
 magistrate. He did his duty in a smaller way, but 
 zealously and honestly, among the hillmen of this dis- 
 trict." " 
 
 " There are gaps in your family history," Louise 
 observed. 
 
 " The gaps, madam," Stephen explained, " are left 
 by those who have abandoned their natural heritage. 
 We Strangeweys were hillfolk and farmers, by descent 
 and destiny, for more than four hundred years. Our 
 place is here upon the land, almost among the clouds, 
 and those of us who have realized it have led the lives 
 God meant us to lead. There have been some of our 
 race who have been tempted into the lowlands and the 
 cities. Not one of them brought honor upon our name. 
 Their pictures are not here. They are not worthy to 
 be here." 
 
 Stephen se.t down the candlesticks and returned to his 
 place. Louise, with her hands clasped behind her back, 
 glanced toward John, who still stood by her side. 
 
 " Tell me," she asked him, " have none of your peo- 
 ple who went out into the world done well for them- 
 selves ? " 
 
 " Scarcely one," he admitted. " My brother's words 
 seem a little sweeping, but they are very near the truth. 
 The air of the great cities seems to have poisoned every 
 Strangewey "
 
 THE HILLMAN 23 
 
 " Not one," Stephen interrupted. " Colonel John 
 Strangewey died leading his regiment at Waterloo, an 
 end well enough, but reached through many years of 
 evil conduct and loose living." 
 
 " He was a brave soldier," John put in quietly. 
 
 "That is true," Stephen admitted. "His best 
 friends have claimed no other quality for him. 
 Madam," he went on, turning toward Louise, " lest my 
 welcome to you this evening should have seemed inhos- 
 pitable, let me tell you this. Every Strangewey who 
 has left our county, and trodden the downward path of 
 failure, has done so at the instance of one of your sex. 
 That is why those of us who inherit the family spirit 
 lgok askance upon all strange women. That is why no 
 woman is ever welcome within this house." 
 
 Louise resumed her seat in the easy chair. 
 
 " I am so sorry," she murmured, looking down at her 
 slipper. " I could not help breaking down here, 
 could I?" 
 
 " Nor could my brother fail to offer you the hospi- 
 tality of this roof," Stephen admitted. " The incident 
 was unfortunate but inevitable. It is a matter for re- 
 gret that we have so little to offer you in the way of 
 entertainment." He rose to his feet. The door had 
 been opened. Jennings was standing there with a 
 candlestick upon a massive silver salver. Behind him 
 was Aline. " You are doubtless fatigued by your jour- 
 ney, madam," Stephen concluded. 
 
 Louise made a little grimace, but she rose at once to 
 her feet. She understood quite well that she was being 
 sent to bed, and she shivered a little when she looked 
 at the hour barely ten o'clock. Yet it was all in 
 keeping. From the doorway she looked back into the 
 room, in which nothing seemed to have been touched for
 
 24 THE HILLMAN 
 
 centuries. She stood upon the threshold to bid her 
 final good-night, fully conscious of the complete anach- 
 ronism of her presence there. 
 
 Her smile for Stephen was respectful and full of 
 dignity. As she glanced toward John, however, some- 
 thing flashed in her eyes and quivered at the corners 
 of her lips, something which escaped her control, some- 
 thing which made him grip for a moment the back of the 
 chair against which he stood. Then, between the old 
 man servant, who insisted upon carrying her candle to 
 her room, and her maid, who walked behind, she crossed 
 the white stone hall and stepped slowly up the broad 
 flight of stairs.
 
 Ill 
 
 Louise awoke the next morning filled with a curious 
 sense of buoyant expectancy. The sunshine was pour- 
 ing into the room, brightening up its most somber cor- 
 ners. It lay across the quilt of her bed, and seemed to 
 bring out the perfume of lavender from the pillow on 
 which her head reposed. 
 
 , Aline, hearing her mistress stir, hastened at once to 
 the bedside. 
 
 " Good morning, madame! " 
 
 Louise sat up and looked around her, with her hands 
 clasped about her knees. 
 
 " Tell me everything, Aline," she said. " Have you 
 my breakfast there? And what time is it?" 
 
 " It is half-past nine, madame" Aline replied, " and 
 your breakfast is here. The old imbecile from the 
 kitchen has just brought it up." 
 
 Louise looked approvingly at the breakfast tray, 
 with the home-made bread and deep-yellow butter, the 
 brown eggs and clear honey. The smell of the coffee 
 was aromatic. She breathed a little sigh of content. 
 
 " How delicious everything looks ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 " The home-made things are well enough in their 
 way, madame" Aline agreed, " but I have never known 
 a household so strange and disagreeable. That M. 
 Jennings, who calls himself the butler he is a person 
 unspeakable, a savage ! " 
 
 Louise's eyes twinkled. 
 
 1
 
 25 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " I don't think they are fond of women in this house- 
 hold, Aline," she remarked. " Tell me, have you seen 
 Charles?" 
 
 " Charles has gone to the nearest blacksmith's forge 
 to get something made for the car, madame" Aline re- 
 plied. " He asked me to say that he was afraid he 
 would not be ready to start before midday." 
 
 " That does not matter," Louise declared, as she 
 settled down to her breakfast. " I do not care how 
 long it is before he is ready. I should love to spend a 
 month here ! " 
 
 Aline held up her hands. She was speechless. Her 
 mistress laughed at her consternation. 
 
 " Well," she continued, " there is no fear of their 
 asking us for a month, or for an hour longer than they 
 can help. The elder Mr. Strangewey, it seems, has the 
 strongest objection to our sex. There is not a woman 
 servant in the house, is there? " 
 
 " Not one, madame" Aline replied. " I have never 
 been in a household conducted in such a manner. It is 
 like the kitchen of a monastery. The terrible Jennings 
 is speechless. If one addresses him, he only mumbles. 
 The sound of my skirts, or my footstep on the stone 
 floor, makes him shiver. He is worse, one would im- 
 agine, than his master." 
 
 Louise ate and drank reflectively. 
 
 " It is the queerest household one could possibly 
 stumble upon," she remarked. " The young Mr. 
 Strangewey he seems different, but he falls in with 
 his brother's ways." 
 
 Aline glanced at herself in the mirror. She was just 
 out of her mistress's range of vision, and she made a 
 little grimace at her reflection. 
 
 " I met him twice this morning in the hall," she re-
 
 THE HILLMAN 27 
 
 marked. " He wished me good morning the first time. 
 The second time he did not speak. He did not seem to 
 see me." 
 
 Louise finished her breakfast and strolled presently 
 to the window. She gave a little sigh of pleasure as 
 she looked out. 
 
 " But, Aline," she exclaimed, " how exquisite ! " 
 
 The maid glanced over her shoulder and went on pre- 
 [ paring her mistress's clothes. 
 
 " It is as madame finds it," she replied. " For my- 
 self, I like the country for fete days and holidays only, 
 and even then I like to find plenty of people there." 
 
 Louise heard nothing. She was gazing eagerly out 
 of the casement-window. Immediately below was a 
 grass-grown orchard which stretched upward, at a pre- 
 cipitous angle, toward a belt of freshly plowed field; 
 beyond, a little chain of rocky hHls, sheer overhead. 
 The trees were pink and white with blossom ; the petals 
 lay about upon the ground like drifted snowflakes. 
 Here and there yellow jonquils were growing among the 
 long grass. A waft of perfume stole into the room 
 through the window which she had opened. 
 
 " Fill my bath quickly, Aline," Louise ordered. " I 
 must go out. I want to see whether it is really as beau- 
 tiful as it looks." 
 
 Aline dressed her mistress in silence. It was not 
 until she had finished lacing her shoes that she spoke 
 another word. Then, suddenly, she stopped short in 
 the act of crossing the room. Her eyes had happened 
 to fall upon the emblazoned genealogical record. A 
 little exclamation escaped her. She swung round 
 toward her mistress, and for once there was animation 
 in her face. 
 
 " But, madame** she exclaimed, " I have remem-
 
 28 THE HILLMAN 
 
 bered ! The name Strangewey you see it there it 
 was in our minds all the time that we had seen or heard 
 of it quite lately. Don't you remember " 
 
 " Yes, yes ! " Louise interrupted. " I know it re- 
 minds me of something, but of what ? " 
 
 " Yesterday morning," Aline continued, " it was you 
 madame, who read it out while you took your coffee. 
 You spoke of the good fortune of some farmer in the 
 north of England to whom a relative in Australia had 
 left a great fortune hundreds and thousands of 
 pounds. The name was Strangewey, the same as that. 
 I remember it now." 
 
 She pointed once more to the family tree. Louise 
 sat for a moment with parted lips. 
 
 " You are quite right, Aline. I remember it all per- 
 fectly now. I wonder whether it could possibly be 
 either of these two men ! " 
 
 Aline shook her head doubtfully. 
 
 " It would be unbelievable, madame," she decided. 
 " Could any sane human creatures live here, with no 
 company but the sheep and the cows, if they had money 
 money to live in the cities, to buy pleasures, to be 
 happy? Unbelievable, madame! " 
 
 Louise remained standing before the window. She 
 was watching the blossom-laden boughs of one of the 
 apple trees bending and swaying in the fresh morning 
 breeze watching the restless shadows which came and 
 went upon the grass beneath. 
 
 "That is just your point of view, Aline," she mur- 
 mured ; " but happiness well, you would not under- 
 stand. They are strange men, these two. The young 
 one is different now, but as he grows older he will be like 
 his brother. He will live a very simple and honorable 
 life. He will be what is it they call it ? a county
 
 THE HILLMAN 29 
 
 magistrate, chairman of many things, a judge at agri- 
 cultural shows. When he dies, he will be buried up in 
 that windy little churchyard, and people will come from 
 a long way off to say how good he was. My hat, 
 quickly, Aline! If I am not in that orchard in five 
 minutes I shall be miserable ! " 
 
 Louise found her way without difficulty across a 
 cobbled yard, through a postern gate set in a red-brick 
 wall, into the orchard. Very slowly, and with her 
 head turned upward toward the trees, she made her way 
 toward the boundary wall. Once, with a little exclama- 
 tion of pleasure, she drew down a bough of the soft, cool 
 blossom and pressed it against her cheek. She stopped 
 for a moment or two to examine the contents of a row 
 of chicken-coops, and at every few steps she turned 
 around to face the breeze which came sweeping across 
 the moorland from the other side of the house. 
 
 Arrived at the farther end of the orchard, she came 
 to a gate, against which she rested for a moment, lean- 
 ing her arms upon the topmost bar. Before her was 
 the little belt of plowed earth, the fresh, pungent odor 
 of which was a new thing to her; a little way to the 
 right, the rolling moorland, starred with clumps of 
 gorse; in front, across the field on the other side of 
 the gray stone wall, the rock-strewn hills. The sky 
 unusually blue it seemed to her, and dotted all over 
 with little masses of fleecy, white clouds seemed some- 
 how lower and nearer ; or was she, perhaps higher up ? 
 
 She lingered there, absolutely bewildered by the rapid 
 growth in her brain and senses of what surely must be 
 some newly kindled faculty of appreciation. There 
 was a beauty in the world which she had not felt before. 
 
 She turned her head almost lazily at the sound of a 
 man's voice. A team of horses, straining at a plo\v,
 
 30 THE HILLMAN 
 
 were coming round the bend of the field, and by their 
 side, talking to the laborer who guided them, was John 
 Strangewey. She watched him as he came into sight 
 up the steep rise. Against the empty background, he 
 seemed to lose nothing of the size and strength that had 
 impressed her on the previous night. He was bare- 
 headed, and she noticed for the first time that his 
 closely cropped fair hair was inclined to curl a little 
 near the ears. 
 
 He walked in step with the plowman by his side, but 
 without any of the laborer's mechanical plod with a 
 spring in his footsteps, indeed, as if his life and 
 thoughts were full of joyous things. He was wearing 
 black-and-white tweed clothes, a little shabby but well- 
 fitting ; breeches and gaiters ; thick boots, plentifully 
 caked now with mud. He was pointing with his stick 
 along the furrow, so absorbed in the instructions he was 
 giving that he was almost opposite the gate before he 
 was aware of her presence. He promptly abandoned 
 his task and approached her. 
 
 " Good morning ! " he called out. 
 
 She waved her hand. 
 
 " Good morning! " 
 
 " You have slept well? " he asked. 
 
 " Better, I think, than ever before in my life," she 
 answered. ** Differently, at any rate. And such an 
 awakening ! " 
 
 He looked at her, a little puzzled. The glow upon 
 her face and the sunlight upon her brown hair kept him 
 silent. He was content to look at her and wonder. 
 
 " Tell me," she demanded impetuously, " is this a 
 little corner of fairy-land that you have found? Does 
 the sun always shine like this? Does the earth always 
 smell as sweetly, and are your trees always in blossom?
 
 THE HILLMAN 31 
 
 Does your wind always taste as if God had breathed the 
 elixir of life into it? " 
 
 He turned around to follow the sweep of her eyes. 
 Something of the same glow seemed to rest for a mo- 
 ment upon his face. 
 
 " It is good," he said, " to find what you love so much 
 appreciated by some one else." 
 
 They stood together in a silence almost curiously 
 protracted. Then the plowman passed again with his 
 team of horses, and John called out some instructions 
 to him. She followed him down to earth. 
 
 " Tell me, Mr. Strangewey," she inquired, " where 
 are your farm-buildings ? " 
 
 " Come and I will show you," he answered, opening 
 the gate to let her through. " Keep close to the hedge 
 until we come to the end of the plow; and then but 
 no, I won't anticipate. This way ! " 
 
 She walked by his side, conscious every now and then 
 of his frankly admiring eyes as he looked down at her. 
 She herself felt all the joy of a woman of the world im- 
 bibing a new experience. She did not even glance 
 toward the dismantled motor in the barn which they 
 passed. 
 
 " I am glad," he remarked presently, " that you look 
 upon us more charitably than your maid." 
 
 " Aline is a good girl," Louise said, smiling, " but 
 hot-water taps and electric lights are more to her than 
 sunshine and hills. Do you know," she went on, " I 
 feel like a child being led through an undiscovered coun- 
 try, a land of real adventures. Which way are we 
 going, and what are we going to see? Tell me, 
 please ! " 
 
 " Wait," he begged. " It is just a queer little corner 
 among the hills, that is all."
 
 32 THE HILLMAN 
 
 They reached the end of the plowed field, and, pass- 
 ing through a gate, turned abruptly to the left and be- 
 gan to climb a narrow path which bordered the bound- 
 ary wall, and which became steeper every moment. As 
 they ascended, the orchard and the long, low house on 
 the other side seemed to lie almost at their feet. The 
 road and the open moorland) beyond, stretching to 
 the encircling hills, came more clearly into sight with 
 every backward glance. Louise paused at last, breath- 
 less. 
 
 ** I must sit down," she insisted. " It is too beauti- 
 ful to hurry over." 
 
 " It is only a few steps farther," he told her, holding 
 out his hand; "just to where the path winds its way 
 round the hill there. But perhaps you are tired ? " 
 
 " On the contrary," she assured him, " I never felt so 
 vigorous in my life. All the exercise I take, as a rule, 
 is in Kensington Gardens ; and look ! " She pointed 
 downward to her absurd little shoes, and held out her 
 hand, " You will have to help me," she pleaded. 
 
 The last few steps were, indeed, almost precipitous. 
 Fragments of rock, protruding through the grass and 
 bushes, served as steps. John moved on a little ahead 
 and pulled her easily up. Even the slight tightening 
 of his fingers seemed to raise her from her feet. She 
 looked at him wonderingly. 
 
 " How strong you are ! " 
 
 " A matter of weight," he answered, smiling. " You 
 are like a feather. You walk as lightly as the fairies 
 who come out on midsummer night's eve and dance in 
 circles around the gorse-bushes there." 
 
 " Is it the home of the fairies you are taking me to? " 
 she asked. " If you have discovered that, no wonder 
 you find us ordinary women outside your lives ! "
 
 THE HILLMAN 33 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " There are no fairies where we are going," he as- 
 sured her. 
 
 They were on a rough-made road now, which turned 
 abruptly to the right a few yards ahead, skirting the 
 side of a deep gorge. They took a few steps further, 
 and Louise stopped short with a cry of wonder. 
 
 Around the abrupt corner an entirely new perspec- 
 tive was revealed a little hamlet, built on a shoulder 
 of the mountains; and on the right, below a steep de- 
 scent, a wide and sunny valley. It was like a tiny 
 world of its own, hidden in the bosom of the hills. 
 There was a long line of farm-buildings, built of gray 
 stone and roofed with red tiles; there were fifteen or 
 twenty stacks; a quaint, white-washed house of con- 
 siderable size, almost covered on the southward side 
 with creepers ; a row of cottages, and a gray-walled en- 
 closure stretching with its white tombstones to the 
 very brink of the descent in the midst of which was 
 an ancient church, in ruins at the further end, partly 
 rebuilt with the stones of the hillside. 
 
 Louise looked around her, silent with wonder. A 
 couple of sheep-dogs had rushed out from the farm- 
 house and were fawning around her companion. In 
 the background a gray-bearded shepherd, with Scot- 
 tish plaid thrown over his shoulder, raised his hat. 
 
 "It isn't real, is it?" she asked, clinging for a mo- 
 ment to John Strangewey's arm. 
 
 He patted one of the dogs and smiled down at her. 
 
 " Why not ? William Elwick there is a very real 
 shepherd, I can assure you. He has sat on these hills 
 for the last sixty-eight years." 
 
 She looked at the old man almost with awe. 
 
 " It is like the Bible ! " she murmured. " Fancy the
 
 34 THE HILLMAN 
 
 sunrises he must have seen, and the sunsets ! The com- 
 ing and the fading of the stars, the spring days, the 
 music of the winds in these hollow places, booming to 
 him in the night-time! I want to talk to him. 
 May I?" 
 
 He shook his head. The old man was already 
 shambling off. 
 
 " Better not," he advised. " You would be disap- 
 pointed, for William has the family weakness he can- 
 not bear the sight of a woman. You see, he is pretend- 
 ing now that there is something wrong with the hill 
 flock. You asked where the land was that we tilled. 
 Now look down. Hold my arm if you feel giddy." 
 
 She followed the wave of his ash stick. The valley 
 sheer below them, and the lower hills, on both sides, 
 were parceled out into fields, enclosed within stone walls, 
 reminding her, from the height at which they stood, of 
 nothing so much as the quilt upon her bed. 
 
 " That's where all our pasture is," he told her, " and 
 our arable land. We grow a great deal of corn in the 
 dip there. All the rest of the hillside, and the moor- 
 lands, of course, are fit for nothing but grazing; but 
 there are eleven hundred acres down there from which 
 we can raise almost anything we choose." 
 
 Her eyes swept this strange tract of country back- 
 ward and forward. She saw the men like specks in the 
 fields, the cows grazing in the pasture like toy animals. 
 Then she turned and looked at the neat row of stacks 
 and the square of farm-buildings. 
 
 " I am trying hard to realize that you are a farmer 
 and that this is your life," she said. 
 
 He swung open the wooden gate of the churchyard, 
 by which they were standing. There was a row of 
 graves on either side of the prim path.
 
 THE HILLMAN 35 
 
 " Suppose," he suggested, " you tell me about your- 
 self now about your own life." 
 
 The hills parted suddenly as she stood there looking 
 southward. Through the chasm she seemed to see very 
 clearly the things beyond. Her own life, her own 
 world, spread itself out a world of easy triumphs, of 
 throbbing emotions always swiftly ministered to, al- 
 ways leaving the same dull sensation of discontent; a 
 world in which the pathways were broad and smooth, 
 but in which the end seemed always the same; a world 
 of receding beauties and mocking desires. The faces of 
 her friends were there men and women, brilliant, her 
 intellectual compeers, a little tired, offering always the 
 same gifts, the same homage. 
 
 " My life, and the world in which I live, seem far 
 away just now," she said quietly. " I think that it is 
 doing me good to have a rest from them. Go on talk- 
 ing to me about yourself, please." 
 
 He smiled. He was just a little disappointed. 
 
 " We shall very soon reach the end of all that I have 
 to tell you," he remarked. " Still, if there is anything 
 you would like to know " 
 
 " Who were these men and women who have lived and 
 died here ? " she interrupted, with a little wave of her 
 hand toward the graves. 
 
 " All our own people," he told her ; " laborers, shep- 
 herds, tenant-farmers, domestic servants. Our clergy- 
 man comes from the village on the other side of that hill. 
 He rides here every Sunday on a pony which we have to 
 provide for him." 
 
 She studied the names upon the tombstones, spelling 
 them out slowly. 
 
 " The married people," he went on, " are buried on 
 the south side; the single ones and children are nearer
 
 36 THE HILLMAN 
 
 the wall. Tell me," he asked, after a moment's hesita- 
 tion, " are you married or single? " 
 
 She gave a little start. The abruptness of the ques- 
 tion, the keen, steadfast gaze of his compelling eyes, 
 seemed for a moment to paralyze both her nerves and 
 her voice. Again the hills rolled open, but this time it 
 was her own life only that she saw, her own life, and 
 one man's face which she seemed to see looking at her 
 from some immeasurable distance, waiting, yet drawing 
 her closer toward him, closer and closer till their hands 
 met. 
 
 She was terrified at this unexpected tumult of emo- 
 tion. It was as if some one had suddenly drawn away 
 one of the stones from the foundation of her life. She 
 found herself repeating the words on the tombstone 
 facing her : 
 
 " And of Elizabeth, for sixty-one years the faithful wife 
 and helpmate of Ezra Cumminps, mother of his children, and 
 his partner in the life everlasting." 
 
 Her knees began to shake. There was a momentary 
 darkness before her eyes. She felt for the tombstone 
 and sat down.
 
 IV 
 
 The churchyard gate was opened and closed noisily. 
 They both glanced up. Stephen Strangewey was com- 
 ing slowly toward them along the flinty path. Louise, 
 suddenly herself again, rose briskly to her feet. 
 
 " Here comes your brother," she said. " I wish he 
 wouldn't glower at me so ! I really am not such a ter- 
 rible person as he seems to think." 
 
 John muttered a word or two of polite but uncon- 
 vincing protest. They stood together awaiting his ap- 
 proach. Stephen had apparently lost none of his 
 dourness of the previous night. He was dressed in 
 gray homespun, with knickerbockers and stockings of 
 great thickness. He wore a flannel shirt and collar 
 and a black wisp of a tie. Underneath his battered 
 felt hat his weather-beaten face seemed longer and 
 grimmer than ever, his mouth more uncompromising. 
 As he looked toward Louise, there was no mistaking the 
 slow dislike in his steely eyes. 
 
 " Your chauffeur, madam, has just returned," he 
 announced. " He sent word that he will be ready to 
 start at one o'clock." 
 
 Louise, inspired to battle by the almost provocative 
 hostility of her elder host, smiled sweetly upon him. 
 
 " You can't imagine how sorry I am to hear it," she 
 said. " I don't know when, in the whole course of my 
 life, I have met with such a delightful adventure or 
 spent such a perfect morning ! "
 
 3 8 THE HILLMAN 
 
 Stephen looked at her with level disapproving eyes 
 at her slender form in its perfectly fitting tailored 
 gown ; at her patent shoes, so obviously unsuitable for 
 her surroundings, and at the faint vision of silk stock- 
 ings. 
 
 " If I might say so without appearing inhospitable,"" 
 he remarked, with faint sarcasm, " this would seem to 
 be the fitting moment for your departure. A closer ex- 
 amination of our rough life up here might alter your 
 [views." 
 
 She turned toward John, and caught the deprecating 
 glance which flashed from him to Stephen. 
 
 ** Your brother is making fun of me," she declared. 
 " He looks at me and judges me just as I believe he 
 would judge most people sternly and without mercy. 
 After all, you know, even though I am a daughter of the 
 cities, there is another point of view ours. Can you 
 not believe that the call which prompts men and women 
 to do the things in life which are really worth while is 
 heard as often amid the hubbub of the city as in the 
 solitude of these austere hills ? " 
 
 " The question is a bootless one," Stephen answered 
 firmly. " The city calls to its own, as the country 
 holds its children, and both do best in their own en- 
 vironment. Like to like, and each bird to his own nest. 
 You would be as much out of place here with us, madam, 
 as my brother and I on the pavements of your city." 
 
 " You may be right," she admitted, " yet you dis- 
 miss one of the greatest questions in life with a single 
 turn of your tongue. It is given to no one to be in- 
 fallible. It is even possible that you may be wrong." 
 
 " It is possible," Stephen agreed grimly. 
 
 " The things in life which are worth while," she con- 
 tinued, looking down into the valley, " are common to
 
 THE HILLMAN 39 
 
 all. They do not consist of one thing for one man, 
 another for another. To whom comes the greater 
 share of them the dweller in the city, or you in your 
 primitive and patriarchal life? You rest your brains, 
 you make the seasons feed you, you work enough to 
 keep your muscles firm, and nature does the rest. She 
 brings the food to your doors, and when your harvest 
 is over your work is done. There are possibilities of 
 rust here, Mr. Strangewey ! " 
 
 Stephen's smile was almost disdainful. 
 
 " Madam," he declared, " you have six or seven mil- 
 lion people in London. How many of them live by 
 really creative and honorable work? How many are 
 there of polyglot race Hebrews, Germans, foreigners 
 of every type, preying upon one another, making false 
 incomes which exist only on paper, living in false lux- 
 ury, tasting false joys? The sign-post of our lives 
 must be our personal inclinations. Our inclinations 
 my brother's inclinations and mine lead us, as they 
 have led my people for hundreds of years, to seek the 
 cleaner things in life and the simpler forms of happi- 
 ness. If I do not have the pleasure, madam, of seeing 
 you again, permit me to wish you farewell." 
 
 He turned and walked away. Louise watched him 
 with very real interest. 
 
 " Do you know," she said to John, *' there is some- 
 thing which I can only describe as biblical about your 
 brother, something a little like the prophets of the Old 
 Testament, in the way he sees only one issue and clings 
 to it. Are you, too, of his way of thinking? " 
 
 " Up to a certain point, I believe I am," he confessed. 
 " I do not think I could ever have lived in the city. I 
 do not think I could ever have been happy in any of the 
 professions."
 
 40 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " Certainly I could not imagine you as a stock-broker 
 or a lawyer. I feel it hard to realize you in any of the 
 ordinary walks of life. Still, you know> the greatest 
 question of all remains unanswered. Are you content 
 just to live and flourish and die? Are there no com- 
 pelling obligations with which one is born? Do you 
 never feel cramped in your mind, I mean ? feel 
 that you want to push your way through the clouds 
 into some other life ? " 
 
 " I feel nearer the clouds here," he answered simply. 
 
 " I suppose you are sure of content that is to say, 
 if you can keep free from doubts. Still, there is the 
 fighting instinct, you know; the craving for action. 
 Don't you feel that sometimes? " 
 
 " Perhaps," he admitted. 
 
 They were leaving the churchyard now. She paused 
 abruptly, pointing to a single grave in a part of the 
 churchyard which seemed detached from the rest. 
 
 " Whose grave is that? " she inquired. 
 
 He hesitated. 
 
 " It is the grave of a young girl," he told her quietly. 
 
 " But why is she buried so far off, and all alone?" 
 Louise persisted. 
 
 " She was the daughter of one of our shepherds," he 
 replied. " She went into service at Carlisle, and 
 ijeturned here with a child. They are both buried 
 there." 
 
 " Because of that her grave is apart from the 
 others?" 
 
 " Yes," he answered. " It is very seldom, I am glad 
 to say, that anything of the sort happens among us." 
 
 For the second time that morning Louise was con- 
 scious of an unexpected upheaval of emotion. She felt 
 that the sunshine had gone, that the whole sweetness of
 
 THE HILLMAN 41 
 
 the place had suddenly passed away. The charm of 
 its simple austerity had perished. 
 
 " And I thought I had found paradise ! " she cried. 
 
 She moved quickly from John Strangewey's side. 
 Before he could realize her intention, she had stepped 
 over the low dividing wall and was on her knees by the 
 side of the plain, neglected grave. She tore out the 
 spray of apple-blossom which she had thrust into the 
 bosom of her gown, and placed it reverently at the head 
 of the little mound. For a moment her eyes drooped 
 and her lips moved she herself scarcely knew whether 
 it was in prayer. Then she turned and came slowly 
 back to her companion. 
 
 - Something had gone, too, from his charm. She saw 
 in him now nothing but the coming dourness of his 
 brother. Her heart was still heavy. She shivered a 
 little. 
 
 " Come," she said, " let us go back ! " 
 
 They commenced the steep descent in silence. Every 
 now and then John held his companion by the arm to 
 steady her somewhat uncertain footsteps. It was he 
 at last who spoke. 
 
 " Will you tell me, please, what is the matter with 
 you, and why you placed that sprig of apple-blossom 
 where you did?" 
 
 His tone woke her from her lethargy. She was a 
 little surprised at its poignant, almost challenging note. 
 
 " Certainly," she replied. " I placed it there as a 
 woman's protest against the injustice of that isola- 
 tion." 
 
 " I deny that it is unjust." 
 
 She turned around and waved her hand toward the 
 little gray building. 
 
 " The Savior to whom your church is dedicated
 
 42 THE HILLMAN 
 
 thought otherwise," she reminded him. " Do you play 
 at being lords paramount here over the souls and bodieg 
 of jour serfs? " 
 
 " You judge without knowledge of the facts," he as- 
 sured her calmly. " The girl could have lived here 
 happily and been married to a respectable young man. 
 She chose, instead, a wandering life. She chose, fur- 
 ther, to make it a disreputable one. She broke her 
 mother's heart and soured her father's latter years. 
 She brought into the world a nameless child." 
 
 Louise's footsteps slackened. 
 
 " You men," she sighed, " are all alike ! You judge 
 only by what happens. You never look inside. That 
 is why your justice is so different from a woman's. All 
 that you have told me is very pitiful, but there is an- 
 other view of the case which you should consider. Let 
 us sit down upon this boulder for a few moments. 
 There is something that I should like to say to you be- 
 fore I go." 
 
 They sat upon a ledge of rock. Below them was the 
 house, with its walled garden and the blossom-laden 
 orchard. Beyond stretched the moorland, brilliant 
 with patches of yellow gorse, and the hills, blue and 
 melting in the morning sunlight. 
 
 " Don't you men sometimes realize," she continued 
 earnestly, " the many, many guises in which tempta- 
 tion may come to a woman, especially to the young girl 
 so far from home? She may be very lonely, and she 
 may care ; and if she cares, it is so hard to refuse the 
 man she loves. The very sweetness, the very generosity 
 of a woman's nature prompts her to give, give, give 
 all the time. There are other women, similarly cir- 
 cumstanced, who think only of themselves, of their own 
 safety and happiness, and they escape the danger ; but
 
 THE HILLMAN 43 
 
 are they to be praised and respected, while she that 
 yields is condemned and cast out? I feel that you are 
 not going to agree with me, and I do not wish to argue 
 with you; but what I so passionately object to is the 
 sweeping judgment you make the sheep on one side 
 and the goats on the other. That is how man judges ; 
 God looks further. Every case is different. The law 
 by which one should be judged may be poor justice for 
 another." 
 
 She glanced at him almost appealingly, but there was 
 no sign of yielding in his face. 
 
 " Laws," he reminded her, " are made for the benefit 
 of the whole human race. Sometimes an individual 
 may suffer for the benefit of others. That is inevi- 
 table." 
 
 " And so let the subject pass," she concluded, " but 
 it saddens me to think that one of the great sorrows of 
 the world should be there like a monument to spoil the 
 wonder of this morning. Now I am going to ask you a 
 question. Are you the John Strangewey who has re- 
 cently had a fortune left to him? " 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 " You read about it in the newspapers, I suppose," 
 he said. " Part of the story isn't true. It was stated 
 that I had never seen my Australian uncle, but as a 
 matter of fact he has been over here three or four times. 
 It was he who paid for my education at Harrow and 
 Oxford." 
 
 " What did your brother say to that? " 
 
 *' He opposed it," John confessed, *' and he hated my 
 uncle. He detests the thought of any one of us going 
 out of sight of our own hills. My uncle had the wander- 
 fever." 
 
 "And you?" she asked suddenly.
 
 44 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " I have none of it," he asserted. 
 
 A very faint smile played about her lips. 
 
 " Perhaps not before," she murmured ; " but now ? " 
 
 '* Do you mean because I have inherited the money? " 
 
 She leaned a little toward him. Her smile now was 
 more evident, and there was something in her eyes which 
 was almost like a challenge. 
 
 " Naturally!" 
 
 " What difference does my money make ? " he de- 
 manded. 
 
 " Don't you realize the increase of your power as a 
 human being?" she replied. "Don't you realize the 
 larger possibilities of the life that is open to you? You 
 can move, if you will, in the big world. You can take 
 your place in any society you choose, meet interesting 
 people who have done things, learn everything that is 
 new, do everything that is worth doing in life. You can 
 travel to the remote countries of the globe. You can 
 become a politician, a philanthropist, or a sportsman. 
 You can follow your tastes wherever they lead you, 
 and perhaps this is the most important thing of all 
 you can do everything upon a splendid scale." 
 
 He smiled down at her. 
 
 " That all sounds very nice," he admitted, " but sup- 
 posing that I have no taste in any of the directions you 
 have mentioned? Supposing my life here satisfies me? 
 Supposing I find all that I expect to find in life here on 
 my own land, among my own hills? What then? " 
 
 She looked at him with a curiosity which was almost 
 passionate. Her lips were parted, her senses strained. 
 
 " It is not possible," she exclaimed, " that you can 
 mean it ! " 
 
 " But why not ? " he protested. " I have not the 
 tortuous brain of the modern politician. I hate cities
 
 THE HILLMAN 45 
 
 the smell of them, the atmosphere of them, the life 
 in them. The desire for travel is only half born in me. 
 That may come I cannot tell. I love the daily work 
 here ; I am fond of horses and dogs. I know every yard 
 of land we own, and I know what it will produce. It 
 interests me to try experiments new crops, a new dis- 
 tribution of crops, new machinery sometimes, new 
 methods of fertilizing. I love to watch the seasons 
 come and reign and pass. I love to feel the wind and 
 the sun, and even the rain. All these things have be- 
 come a sort of appetite to me. I am afraid," he wound 
 up a little lamely, " that this is all very badly ex- 
 pressed, but the whole truth of it is, you see, that I am 
 a man of simple and inherited tastes. I feel that my 
 life is here, and I live it here and I love it. Why should 
 I go out like a Don Quixote and search for vague ad- 
 ventures ? " 
 
 "Because you are a man!" she answered swiftly. 
 " You have a brain and a soul too big for your life here. 
 You eat and drink, and physically you flourish, but part 
 of you sleeps because it is shut away from the world 
 of real things. Don't you sometimes feel it in your 
 very heart that life, as we were meant to live it, can only 
 be lived among your fellow men? " 
 
 He looked upward, over his shoulder, at the little 
 cluster of farm-buildings and cottages, and the gray 
 stone church. 
 
 " It seems to me," he declared simply, " that the man 
 who tries to live more than one life fails in both. There 
 is a little cycle of life here, among our thirty or forty 
 souls, which revolves around my brother and myself. 
 You would think it stupid and humdrum, because the 
 people are peasants; but I am not sure that you are 
 right. The elementary things, you know, are the great-
 
 46 THE HILLMAN 
 
 est, and those we have. Our young people fall in love 
 and marry. The joy of birth comes to our mothers, 
 and the tragedy of death looms over us all. Some go 
 out into the world, some choose to remain here. A 
 passer-by may glance upward from the road at our 
 little hamlet, and wonder what can ever happen in such 
 an out-of-the-way corner. I think the answer is just 
 what I have told you. Love and marriage, birth and 
 death happen. These things make life." 
 
 Her curiosity now had become merged in an im- 
 mense interest. She laid her fingers lightly upon his 
 arm. 
 
 " You speak for your people," she said. " That is 
 well. I can understand their simple lives being as ab- 
 sorbing to them as ours are to us. I can imagine how, 
 here among your hills, you can watch as a spectator a 
 cycle of life which contains, as you have pointed out, 
 every element of tragedy and happiness. But you 
 yourself? " 
 
 " I am one of them," he answered, " a necessary part 
 of them." 
 
 " How you deceive yourself ! I am sure you are hon- 
 est, I am sure you believe what you say, but will you re- 
 member what I am going to tell you? The time will 
 come, before very long, when you will feel doubts." 
 
 "Doubts about what?" 
 
 She smiled enigmatically. 
 
 " Oh, they will assert themselves," she assured him, 
 " and you will recognize them when they come. Some- 
 thing will whisper to you in your heart that after all 
 you are not of the same clay as these simple folk that 
 there is a different mission in the world for a man like 
 you than to play the part of feudal lord over a few 
 peasants. Sooner or later you will come out into the
 
 THE HILLMAN 47 
 
 world; and the sooner the better, I think, Mr. John 
 Strangewey, or you will grow like your brother here 
 among your granite hills." 
 
 He moved a little uneasily. All the time she was 
 watching him. It seemed to her that she could read the 
 thoughts which were stirring in his brain. 
 
 " You would like to say, wouldn't you," she went on, 
 "that your brother's is a useful and an upright life? 
 So it may be, but it is not wide enough or great enough. 
 No one should be content with the things which he can 
 reach. He should climb a little higher, and pluck the 
 riper fruit. Some day you will feel the desire to climb. 
 Something will come to you in the night, perhaps, or 
 on the bosom of that wind you love so much. It may 
 be a call of music, or it may be a more martial note. 
 Promise me, will you, that when you feel the impulse 
 you won't use all that obstinate will-power of yours to 
 crush it? You will destroy the best part of yourself, if 
 you do. You will give it a chance? Promise ! " 
 
 She held out her hand with a little impulsive gesture. 
 He took it in his own, and held it steadfastly. 
 
 " I will remember," he promised. 
 
 Along the narrow streak of road, from the south- 
 ward, they both watched the rapid approach of a large 
 motor-car. There were two servants upon the front 
 seat and one passenger a man inside. It swung 
 into the level stretch beneath them, a fantasy of gray 
 and silver in the reflected sunshine. 
 
 Louise had been leaning forward, her head supported 
 upon her hands. As the car slackened speed, she rose 
 very slowly to her feet. 
 
 " The chariot of deliverance ! " she murmured. 
 
 " It is the Prince of Seyre," John remarked, gazing 
 down with a slight frown upon his forehead.
 
 48 THE HILLMAN 
 
 She nodded. They had started the descent, and she 
 was walking in very leisurely fashion. 
 
 " The prince is a great friend of mine," she said. " I 
 bad promised to spend last night, or, at any rate, some 
 portion of the evening, at Raynham Castle on my way 
 to London." 
 
 He summoned up courage to ask her the question 
 which had been on his lips more than once. 
 
 " As your stay with us is so nearly over, won't you 
 abandon your incognito ? " 
 
 " In the absence of your brother," she answered, '* I 
 will risk it. My name is Louise Maurel." 
 
 "Louise Maurel, the actress?" he repeated wonder- 
 
 " I am she," Louise confessed. " Would your 
 brother," she added, with a little grimace, " feel that he 
 had given me a night's lodging under false pretense? " 
 
 John made no immediate reply. The world had 
 turned topsyturvy with him. Louise Maurel, and a 
 gre&t friend of the Prince of Seyre! He walked on 
 mechanically until she turned and looked at him. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " I am sorry," he declared bluntly. 
 
 " Why? " she asked, a little startled at his candor. 
 
 ** I am sorry, first of all, that you are a friend of the 
 Prince of Seyre." 
 
 " And again why ? " 
 
 " Because of his reputation in these parts." 
 
 " What does that mean ? " she asked. 
 
 " I am not a scandalmonger," John replied dryly. 
 ** I speak only of what I know. His estates near here 
 Are systematically neglected. He is the worst land- 
 lord in the country, and the most unscrupulous. His 
 tenants, both here and in Westmoreland, have to work
 
 THE HILLMAN 49. 
 
 themselves to death to provide him with the means of 
 living a disreputable life." 
 
 *' Are you not forgetting that the Prince of Seyre is. 
 a friend of mine? " she asked stiffly. 
 
 " I forget nothing," he answered. " You see, up here 
 we have not learned the art of evading the truth." 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " So much foi the Prince of Seyre, then. And now, 
 why your dislike of my profession ? " 
 
 " That is another matter," he confessed. " You 
 come from a world of which I know nothing. All I can 
 say is that I would rather think of you as something 
 different." 
 
 She laughed at his somber face and patted his arm. 
 lightly. 
 
 " Big man of the hills," she said, " when you come 
 down from your frozen heights to look for the flower*, 
 I shall try to make you see things differently ! '*
 
 The prince, who had just been joined by Stepheny 
 had descended from his car and was waiting in the road 
 when Louise and John approached. He came a few 
 paces forward to meet her, and held out both his hands. 
 
 *' My dear wandering guest ! " he exclaimed. " So I 
 have found you at last ! What shall I say to this mis- 
 hap which has robbed me of so many hours of your 
 visit? I am too happy, though, to know that you have 
 suffered no personal inconvenience." 
 
 " Thanks to the great kindness of my hosts," Louise 
 replied, smiling a little mockingly at Stephen, " I have 
 been completely spoiled here, prince, and I can only 
 regard my accident as a delightful little interlude." 
 
 The prince bowed, and half held out his hand to 
 Stephen. The latter, however appeared not to notice 
 the movement. 
 
 " I shall always remember with gratitude," the prince 
 declared, " the kindness of Mr. Strangewey and his 
 brother to my lost guest. I fear," he went on regret- 
 fully, " that I do not seem very neighborly. I am not 
 often at Raynham Castle, except in August and Septem- 
 ber. I find your northern air somewhat too severe for 
 me." 
 
 " Your tenants, prince," Stephen remarked calmly, 
 '* would like to see a little more of you." 
 
 The prince shrugged his shoulders. He was a man 
 of medium height, slender, with a long and almost color- 
 less face. He carried himself with the good-humored
 
 THE HILLMAN 51 v 
 
 air of the man of the world among strange surroundings 
 toward which he desired to express his toleration. His 
 clothes and voice were perfectly English, although the 
 latter was unusually slow and soft. At first sight there 
 was no apparent evidence of his foreign birth. He 
 turned once more toward Stephen. 
 
 " My agent, Mr. Simon, is a very excellent man, and 
 I have every confidence in his discretion. My tenants 
 here could scarcely feel toward me as they might have 
 done if Raynham had come into my possession in the 
 direct line. However, this year, as it happens, I have 
 made up my mind to spend more time here, My keep- 
 ers tell me that after four bad seasons the prospects 
 for grouse on my higher moors are excellent. I shall 
 hope," he added, turning to John, " to have you join 
 us often. I must confess that the only time I had ever 
 heard your name, before the newspapers advertised 
 your recent good fortune, was in connection with shoot- 
 ing. They tell me that you are the best shot and the 
 finest horseman in Cumberland." 
 
 " You were probably told that at Raynham," John, 
 remarked. " Our people always exaggerate the prow- 
 ess of their own folk, and my brother and I are natives." 
 
 " I trust," the prince concluded, " that you will give 
 me the opportunity of judging for myself. And now, 
 dear lady," he went on, turning to Louise, " I am loath 
 to lose another minute of my promised visit. I have 
 taken the liberty of telling your maid to place your 
 wraps in my car. We can reach Raynham in time for a 
 late lunch. Your own car can follow us and bring your 
 maid." 
 
 For a moment Louise did not reply. The prince had 
 moved a few steps away, to give some directions to his 
 chauffeur, and he saw nothing of the strange look of
 
 $2 THE HILLMAN 
 
 indecision that had suddenly crept into her face. Her 
 eyebrows were contracted. She had turned, and was 
 gazing up the precipitous strip of moorland toward the 
 gray-walled church. Then she glanced at John 
 Strangewey, and her eyes seemed filled with the ques- 
 tioning of a child. It was as if she had abandoned the 
 role of mentor, as if she herself were seeking for guid- 
 ance or help. 
 
 John's unspoken response was prompt and unmis- 
 takable ; and she smiled ever so slightly. She no longer 
 thought him narrow and prejudiced, an unfair judge 
 of things beyond Ijis comprehension. He had helped 
 her in a moment of trial. An idea had flashed between 
 them, and she acted upon it with amazing promptitude. 
 
 tf Alas, prince," she sighed, as he turned back toward 
 them, " I am so sorry, but I fear that this little accident 
 must change all my plans ! As you know, mine was to 
 have been only a brief stay at Raynham, and I fear now 
 that even that is impossible." 
 
 The prince drew a step nearer. Something of the 
 calm suavity had suddenly gone from his manner. 
 When he spoke, his measured words were full of appeal. 
 
 " But, my dear friend," he begged, " you will not rob 
 me altogether of this visit, to which I have looked 
 forward so eagerly? It was to receive you for a few 
 hours that I came from Paris and opened Raynham 
 Castle. You yourself shall decide the length of your 
 stay, and a special train shall take you back to London 
 the moment you give the word. In that way you will 
 both save time and spare me one of the greatest dis- 
 appointments of my life ! " 
 
 She shook her head, slowly and very decisively. 
 
 '* You cannot imagine how sorry I am, prince," she 
 said, " but as it is I must take a special train from Ken-
 
 THE HILLMAN 53 
 
 dal, if there is not one starting soon after I reach the 
 station. I wish to reach London either this evening or 
 very early in the morning." 
 
 The prince was holding himself in restraint with a 
 visible effort. His eyes were fixed upon Louise's face, 
 as if trying to read her thoughts. 
 
 "Is the necessity so urgent?" he asked. 
 
 *' Judge for yourself," she replied. " Henri Graillot 
 is there, waiting for me. You know how impatient he 
 is, and all London is clamoring for his play. Night to 
 him is just the same as day. I shall telegraph from 
 Kendal the hour of my arrival." 
 
 The prince sighed. 
 
 " I think," he said quietly, " that I am the most un- 
 fortunate man in the world! At least, then, you will 
 permit me to drive you to Kendal? I gather from your 
 chauffeur that your car, although temporarily repaired, 
 is not altogether reliable." 
 
 She answered him only after a slight hesitation. For 
 some reason or other, his proposition did not seem 
 wholly welcome. 
 
 " That will be very kind of you," she assented. 
 
 " If we start at once," the prince suggested, " we 
 shall catch the Scotch mail." 
 
 "You will surely lunch first? and you, prince?" 
 John begged. 
 
 She laid her hand upon his arm. 
 
 " My friend, no," she replied. *' I am feverishly 
 anxious to get back to London. Walk with me to the 
 car. I will wave my adieus to Peak Hall when we are 
 up among the hills." 
 
 She drew him on a few paces ahead. 
 
 '* I am going back to London," she continued, lower- 
 ing her voice a little, ** with some very strange impres-
 
 54 THE HILLMAN 
 
 sions and some very pleasant memories. I feel that 
 your life here is, in its way, very beautiful, and yet the 
 contemplation of your future fills me with an immense 
 curiosity. I have not talked to you for very long, Mr. 
 Strangewey, and you may not be quite the sort of per- 
 son I think you are, but I am seldom mistaken. I am 
 an artist, you see, and we have perceptions. I think 
 that even here the time will come when the great unrest 
 will seize you, too, in its toils. Though the color may 
 not fade from your hills, and though the apple-blossom 
 may still glorify your orchard, and your flowers bloom 
 and smell as sweetly, and your winds bring you the 
 same music, I think that the time will come when the 
 note in you which answers to these things, and which 
 gives you contentment, will fail to respond. Then I 
 think I hope, perhaps that we may meet." 
 
 She spoke very softly, almost under her breath, and 
 when she had finished there seemed everywhere a strange 
 emptiness of sound. The panting of the engine from 
 the motor-car, Stephen's measured words as he walked 
 with his uncongenial companion, seemed to come to John 
 from some other world. 
 
 His voice, when he spoke, sounded a little harsh. 
 Although he was denying it fiercely to himself, he was 
 filled with a dim, harrowing consciousness that the 
 struggle had already begun. Notwithstanding the un- 
 realized joy of these few hours, his last words to Louise 
 were almost words of anger ; his last look from beneath 
 his level, close-drawn eyebrows was almost militant. 
 
 " I hope," he declared, " that what you have said may 
 not be true. I hope fervently that the time may never 
 come when I shall feel that I need anything more in life 
 than I can find in the home I love, in the work which is 
 second nature to me, in my books and my sports ! "
 
 THE HILLMAN 55 
 
 The prince, escaping gracefully from a companion 
 who remained adamant to all his advances, had 
 maneuvered his way to their side. The last few steps 
 were taken together. In a few moments they were in 
 the car and ready to start. Stephen, with a stiff little 
 bow, had already departed. Louise leaned out from her 
 place with outstretched hands. 
 
 " And now good-by, dear Mr. Strangewey ! Your 
 brother would not let me mate my little speech to him, 
 so you must accept the whole of my thanks. And," 
 she went on, the corners of her mouth twitching a little, 
 although her face remained perfectly grave, " if the 
 time should come when the need of reinvestments, or 
 of some new machinery for your farm, brings you to 
 London, will you promise that you will come and see 
 me?" 
 
 " I will promise that with much pleasure," John an- 
 swered. 
 
 She leaned back and the prince took her place, hold- 
 ing out his hand. 
 
 " Mr. Strangewey, although your luck has been bet- 
 ter than mine, and you have robbed me of a visit to 
 which I had looked forward for months, I bear you no 
 ill-will. I trust that you will do me the honor of shoot- 
 ing with me before long. My head keeper arranges for 
 the local guns, and I shall see that he sends you a list of 
 the days on which we shall shoot. May I beg that you 
 will select the most convenient to yourself? If you 
 have no car here, it will give me additional pleasure to 
 welcome you at Raynham as my guest." 
 
 John, struggling against an instinctive dislike of 
 which, for many reasons, he was a little ashamed, mur- 
 mured a few incoherent words. The prince leaned back 
 and the car glided away, followed, a few minutes later,
 
 56 THE HILLMAN 
 
 by Louise's own landaulet, with Aline in solitary state 
 inside. 
 
 John watched the little procession until it finally dis- 
 appeared from sight; then he turned on his heel and 
 went into the house. Stephen, who had just filled a 
 pipe, was smoking furiously in the hall. 
 
 "Have they gone? " he demanded. 
 
 John nodded. 
 
 " They are racing into Kendal to catch the Scotch- 
 man for London." 
 
 " The sooner she gets there, the better," Stephen 
 growled. 
 
 John raised his head. The light of battle flashed for 
 a moment in his eyes. 
 
 " She came here unbidden," he said, " and we did no 
 more than our bounden duty in entertaining her. For 
 the rest, what is there that you can say against her? 
 Women there must be in the world. Why do you judge 
 those who come your way so harshly ? " 
 
 Stephen withdrew the pipe from his mouth and dealt 
 the black oak table in front of him a blow with his great 
 fist. Even John himself was struck with the sudden 
 likeness of his brother's face to the granite rocks which 
 were piled around their home. 
 
 " I'll answer your question, John," he said. " I'll 
 tell you the truth as I see it and as I know it. Women 
 there must be to breed men's sons, to care for their 
 households ; even, I grant you, to be their companions 
 and to lighten the dark days when sorrow comes. But 
 she isn't that sort. She is as far removed from them as 
 our mountain road is from the scented thoroughfares 
 of Bond Street or the Rue de la Paix, where she might 
 take her daily exercise. I'll tell you about her, John. 
 She is one of those who have sown the hatred of women
 
 THE HILLMAN 57 
 
 in my heart. Do you know what I call them, John? 
 I call them witch-women. There's something of the 
 devil in their blood. They call themselves artists. 
 They have the gift of turning the heads and spoiling the 
 lives of sober, well-living men, till they make them dance 
 to their bidding along the ways of shame, and turn their 
 useful lives into the dotage of a love-sick boy. They 
 aren't child-bearing women, that sort! They don't 
 want to take their proper place in your household by 
 your side, breed sons and daughters for you, sink their 
 own lives in the greater duties of motherhood. There's 
 generally a drop of devilish foreign blood in their veins, 
 as she has. Our grandmother had it. You know the 
 result. The empty frame in the lumber-room will tell 
 you." 
 
 John, half angry, half staggered by his brother's 
 vehemence, was for the moment a little confused. 
 
 " There may be women like that, Stephen," he con- 
 fessed. *' I am not denying the truth of much that you 
 say. But what right have you to class her among 
 them? What do you know of her? " 
 
 " It's written in her face," Stephen answered fiercely. 
 *' Women like her breathe it from their lips when they 
 speak, just as it shines out of their eyes when they look 
 at you. An actress, and a friend of the Prince of 
 Seyre ! A woman who thought it worth her while, dur- 
 ing her few hours' stay here " John had suddenly 
 straightened himself. Stephen clenched his teeth. 
 " Curse it, that's enough ! " he said. " She's gone, any- 
 way. Come, let's have our lunch ! "
 
 VI 
 
 Once more that long, winding stretch of mountain 
 road lay empty under the moonlight. Three months 
 had passed, and none of the mystery of the earlier sea- 
 son in the year remained. The hills had lost their 
 canopy of soft, gray mist. Nature had amplified and 
 emphasized herself. The whole outline of the country 
 was marvelously distinct. The more distant mountains, 
 as a rule blurred and uncertain in shape, seemed now to 
 pierce with their jagged summits the edge of the star- 
 filled sky. 
 
 Up the long slope, where three months before he had 
 ridden to find himself confronted with the adventure of 
 his life, John Strangewey jogged homeward in his high 
 dog-cart. The mare, scenting her stable, broke into a 
 quick trot as they topped the long rise. Suddenly she 
 felt a hand tighten upon her reins. She looked inquir- 
 ingly around, and then stood patiently awaiting her 
 master's bidding. 
 
 It seemed to John as if he had passed from the partial 
 abstraction of the last few hours into absolute and en- 
 tire forgetfulness of the present. He could see the 
 motor-car drawn up by the side of the road, could hear 
 the fretful voice of the maid, and the soft, pleasant 
 words of greeting from the woman who had seemed from 
 the first as if she were very far removed indeed from any 
 of the small annoyances of their accident. 
 
 " I have broken down. Can you help ? " 
 
 He set his teeth. The poignancy of the recollection
 
 THE HILLMAN 59 
 
 was a torture to him. Word by word he lived again 
 through that brief interview. He saw her descend from 
 the car, felt the touch of her hand on his arm, saw the 
 flash of her brown eyes as she drew close to him with 
 that pleasant little air of familiarity, shared by no 
 other woman he had ever known. 
 
 Then the little scene faded away, and he remembered 
 the tedious present. He had spent two dull days at the 
 house of a neighboring landowner, playing cricket in 
 the daytime, dancing at night with women in whom he 
 was unable to feel the slightest interest, always with 
 that far-away feeling in his heart, struggling hour by 
 hour with that curious restlessness which seemed to have 
 taken a permanent place in his disposition. He was on 
 his way home to Peak Hall. He knew exactly the wel- 
 come which was awaiting him. He knew exactly the 
 news he would receive. He raised his whip and cracked 
 it viciously in the air. 
 
 Stephen was waiting for him, as he had expected, in 
 the dining room. The elder Strangewey was seated in 
 his accustomed chair, smoking his pipe and reading the 
 paper. The table was laid for a meal, which Jennings 
 was preparing to serve. 
 
 " Back again, John? " his brother remarked, looking 
 at him fixedly over his newspaper. 
 
 John picked up one or two letters, glanced them over, 
 and flung them down upon the table. He had examined 
 every envelope for the last few months with the same 
 expectancy, and thrown each one down with the same 
 throb of disappointment. 
 
 " As you see." 
 
 "Had a good time?" 
 
 " Not very. We were too strong for them. They 
 came without a bowler at all."
 
 60 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " Did you get a good knock ? " 
 
 " A hundred and seven," John replied. " It was just 
 a slog, though. Nothing to eat, thank you, Jennings. 
 You can clear the table so far as I am concerned. I 
 had supper with the Greys. Have they finished the 
 barley-fields, Stephen ? " 
 
 " All in at eight o'clock." 
 
 There was a brief silence. Then Stephen knocked 
 the ashes from his pipe and rose to his feet. 
 
 " John," he asked, " why did you pull up on the road 
 there?" 
 
 There was no immediate answer. The slightest of 
 frowns formed itself upon the younger man's face. 
 
 " How did you know that I pulled up ? " 
 
 "I was sitting with the window open, listening for 
 you. I came outside to see what had happened, and 
 I saw your lights standing still." 
 
 " I had a fancy to stop for a moment," John said ; 
 " nothing more." 
 
 " You aren't letting your thoughts dwell upon that 
 woman ? " 
 
 " I have thought about her sometimes," John an- 
 swered, almost defiantly. " What's the harm? I'm 
 still here, am I not? " 
 
 Stephen crossed the room. From the drawer of the 
 old mahogany sideboard he produced an illustrated 
 paper. He turned back the frontispiece fiercely and 
 held it up. 
 
 " Do you see that, John ? " 
 
 *' I've seen it already." 
 
 Stephen threw the paper upon the table. 
 
 " She's going to act in another of those confounded 
 French plays," he said ; " translations with all the wit 
 taken out and all the vulgarity left in."
 
 THE HILLMAN 61 
 
 " We know nothing of her art," John declared coldly. 
 " We shouldn't understand it, even if we saw her act. 
 Therefore, it isn't right for us to judge her. The 
 world has found her a great actress. She is not respon- 
 sible for the plays she acts in." 
 
 Stephen turned away and lit his pipe anew. He 
 smoked for a minute or two furiously. His thick eye- 
 brows came closer and closer together. He seemed to 
 be turning some thought over in his mind. 
 
 *' John," he asked, " is it this cursed money that is 
 making you restless ? " 
 
 "I never think of it except when some one comes 
 begging. I promised a thousand pounds to the in- 
 firmary to-day." 
 
 " Then what's wrong with you? " 
 
 John stretched himself out, a splendid figure of 
 healthy manhood. His cheeks were sun-tanned, his eyes 
 clear and bright. 
 
 "The matter? There's nothing on earth the mat- 
 ter with me," he declared. 
 
 '* It isn't your health I mean. There are other 
 things, as you well know. You do your day's work and 
 you take your pleasure, and you go through both as if 
 your feet were on a treadmill." 
 
 " Your fancy, Stephen ! " 
 
 " God grant it ! I've had an unwelcome visitor in 
 your absence." 
 
 John turned swiftly around. 
 
 "A visitor?" he repeated. "Who was it?*' 
 
 Stephen glowered at him for a moment 
 
 " It was the prince," he said ; " the Prince of Seyre, 
 as he calls himself, though he has the right to style him- 
 self Master of Raynham- It's only his foreign blood 
 which makes him choose what I regard as the lesser title.
 
 62 THE HILLMAN 
 
 Yes, he called to ask you to shoot and stay at the castle, 
 if you would, from the 16th to the 20th of next month." 
 
 " What answer did you give him? " 
 
 " I told him that you were your own master. [You 
 must send word to-morrow." 
 
 " He did not mention the names of any of his other 
 guests, I suppose? " 
 
 " He mentioned no names at all." 
 
 John was silent for a moment. A bewildering 
 thought had taken hold of him. Supposing she were to 
 be there! 
 
 Stephen, watching him, read his thoughts, and for a 
 moment lost control of himself. 
 
 " Were you thinking about that woman ? " he asked 
 sternly. 
 
 "What woman?" 
 
 " The woman whom we sheltered here, the woman 
 whose shameless picture is on the cover of that book." 
 
 John swung round on his heel. 
 
 " Stop that, Stephen ! " he said menacingly. 
 
 "Why should I?" the older man retorted. "Take 
 up that paper, if you want to read a sketch of the life 
 of Louise Maurel. See the play she made her name in 
 * La Gioconda ' ! " 
 
 "What about it?" 
 
 Stephen held the paper out to his brother. John 
 read a few lines and dashed it into a corner of the 
 room. 
 
 " There's this much about it, John," Stephen con- 
 tinued. " The woman played that part night after 
 night played it to the life, mind you. She made her 
 reputation in it. That's the woman we unknowingly 
 let sleep beneath this roof! The barn is the place for 
 her and her sort ! "
 
 THE HILLMAN 63 
 
 John's clenched fists were held firmly to his sides. 
 His eyes were blazing. 
 
 " That's enough, Stephen ! " he cried. 
 
 " No, it's not enough ! " was the fierce reply. " Th 
 truth's been burning in my heart long enough. It's 
 better out. You want to find her a guest at Raynham 
 Castle, do you? Raynham Castle, where never a de- 
 cent woman crosses the threshold! If she goes there, 
 she goes as his mistress. Well ? " 
 
 An anger that was almost paralyzing, a sense of the 
 utter impotence of words, drove John in silence from 
 the room. He left the house by the back door, passed 
 quickly through the orchard, where the tangled moon- 
 light lay upon the ground in strange, fantastic 
 shadows; across the narrow strip of field, a field now 
 of golden stubble ; up the rough ascent, across the road, 
 and higher still up the hill which looked down upon the 
 farm-buildings and the churchyard. 
 
 He sat grimly down upon a great boulder, filled with 
 a hateful sense of unwreaked passion, yet with a queer 
 thankfulness in his heart that he had escaped the mi- 
 asma of evil thoughts which Stephen's words seemed 
 to have created. The fancy seized him to face these 
 half-veiled suggestions of his brother's, so far as they; 
 concerned himself and his life during the last few; 
 months. 
 
 Stephen was right. This woman who had dropped 
 from the clouds for those few brief hours had played 
 strange havoc with John's thoughts and his whole out- 
 look upon life. The coming of harvest, the care of his 
 people, his sports, his cricket, the early days upon the 
 grouse moors, had all suddenly lost their interest for 
 him. Life had become a task. The echo of her half- 
 mocking, half-challenging words was always in his ears.
 
 64 THE HILLMAN 
 
 He sat with his head resting upon his hands, looking 
 steadfastly across the valley below. Almost at his feet 
 lay the little church with its graveyard, the long line of 
 stacks and barns, the laborers' cottages, the bailiffs 
 house, the whole little colony around which his life 
 seemed centered. The summer moonlight lay upon the 
 ground almost like snow. He could see the sheaves of 
 wheat standing up in the most distant of the cornfields. 
 Beyond was the dark gorge toward which he had looked 
 so many nights at this hour. 
 
 Across the viaduct there came a blaze of streaming 
 light, a serpentlike trail, a faintly heard whistle the 
 Scottish Express on its way southward toward London. 
 His eyes followed it out of sight. He found himself 
 thinking of the passengers who would wake the next 
 morning in London. He felt himself suddenly acutely 
 conscious of his isolation. Was there not something 
 almost monastic in the seclusion which had become a 
 passion with Stephen, and which had its grip, too, upon 
 him a waste of life, a burying of talents? 
 
 He rose to his feet. The half-formed purpose of 
 weeks held him now, definite and secure. He knew that 
 this pilgrimage of his to the hilltop, his rapt contempla- 
 tion of the little panorama which had become so dear to 
 him, was in a sense valedictory. 
 
 After all, two more months passed before the end 
 came, and it came then without a moment's warning. 
 It was a little past midday when John drove slowly 
 through the streets of Market Ketton in his high dog- 
 cart, exchanging salutations right and left with the 
 tradespeople, with farmers brought into town by the 
 market, with acquaintances of all sorts and conditions. 
 More than one young woman from the shop-windows or
 
 THE HILLMAN 65 
 
 the pavements ventured to smile at him, and the few 
 greetings he received from the wives and daughters of 
 his neighbors were as gracious as they could possibly 
 be made. John almost smiled once, in the act of raising 
 his hat, as he realized how completely the whole charm 
 of the world, for him, seemed to lie in one woman's 
 eyes. 
 
 At the crossways, where he should have turned up 
 to the inn, he paused while a motor-car passed. It 
 contained a woman, who was talking to her host. She 
 was not in the least like Louise, and yet instinctively he 
 knew that she was of the same world. The perfection 
 of her white-serge costume, her hat so smartly worn, 
 the half-insolent smile, the little gesture with which she 
 raised her hand something about her unlocked the 
 floodgates. 
 
 Market Ketton had seemed well enough a few minutes 
 ago. John had felt a healthy appetite for his midday 
 meal, and a certain interest concerning a deal of barley 
 upon which he was about to engage. And now another 
 world had him in its grip. He flicked the mare with 
 his whip, turned away from the inn, and galloped up to 
 the station, keeping pace with the train whose whistle 
 he had heard. Standing outside was a local horse- 
 dealer of his acquaintance. 
 
 " Take the mare back for me to Peak Hall, will you, 
 Jenkins, or send one of your lads?" he begged. "I 
 want to catch this train." 
 
 The man assented with pleasure it paid to do a 
 kindness for a Strangewey. John passed through the 
 ticket-office to the platform, where the train was wait- 
 ing, threw open the door of a carriage, and flung him- 
 self into a corner seat. The whistle sounded. The ad- 
 venture of his life had begun at last.
 
 vn 
 
 The great French dramatist, dark, pale-faced, and 
 corpulent, stood upon the extreme edge of the stage, 
 brandishing his manuscript in his hand. From close 
 at hand, the stage manager watched him anxiously. 
 For the third time M. Graillot was within a few inches of 
 the orchestra-well. 
 
 " If you would pardon me, M. Graillot," he ventured 
 timidly, " the footlights are quite unprotected, as you 
 see." 
 
 Graillot glanced behind him and promptly abandoned 
 his dangerous position. 
 
 " It is you, ladies and gentlemen," he declared, shak- 
 ing his manuscript vigorously at the handful of people 
 upon the stage, " who drive me into forgetfulness and 
 place me in the danger from which our friend here has 
 just rescued me. Do I not best know the words and the 
 phrases which will carry the messages of my play across 
 the footlights? Who is to judge, ladies and gentlemen 
 you or I ? " 
 
 He banged the palm of his left hand with the rolled- 
 up manuscript and looked at them all furiously. A 
 slight, middle-aged man, clean-shaven, with a single eye- 
 glass, and features very well known to the theatergoing 
 world, detached himself a little from the others. 
 
 " No one indeed, dear M. Graillot," he admitted, 
 '* could possibly know these things so well as you ; but, 
 on the other hand, when you write in your study at
 
 THE HILLMAN 67; 
 
 Fontainebleau you write for a quicker-minded public 
 than ours. The phrase which would find its way at once 
 to the brain of the French audience needs, shall I say, 
 just a little amplification to carry equal weight across 
 the footlights of my theater. I will admit that we are 
 dealing with a translation which is, in its way, not suffi- 
 ciently literal, but our friend Shamus here has pointed 
 out to me the difficulties. The fact is, M. Graillot, that 
 some of the finest phrases in your work are untranslat- 
 able." 
 
 " There are times," the dramatist asserted, moisten- 
 ing his lips vigorously with his tongue, " when I regret 
 that I ever suffered Mr. Shamus or anybody else to at- 
 tempt to translate my inimitable play into a language 
 wholly inadequate to express its charm and subtlety ! " 
 
 " Quite so," the actor remarked sympathetically ; 
 *' but still, since the deed has been done, M. Graillot, 
 and since we are going to produce the result in the 
 course of a fortnight or so, or lose a great deal of 
 money, don't you think that we had all better try our 
 utmost to insure the success of the production ? " 
 
 *' The only success I care for," Graillot thundered, 
 " is an artistic success ! " 
 
 " With Miss Maurel playing your leading part, M. 
 Graillot," the actor-manager declared, " not to speak 
 of a company carefully selected to the best of my judg- 
 ment, I think you may venture to anticipate even that." 
 
 The dramatist bowed hurriedly to Louise. 
 
 " You recall to me a fact," he said gallantly, " which 
 almost reconciles me to this diabolical travesty of some 
 of my lines. Proceed, then proceed! I will be as 
 patient as possible." 
 
 The stage manager shouted out some directions from 
 his box. A gentleman in faultless morning clothes, who
 
 68 THE HILLMAN 
 
 seemed to have been thoroughly enjoying the interlude, 
 suddenly adopted the puppetlike walk of a footman. 
 Other actors, who had been whispering together in the 
 wings, came back to their places. Louise advanced 
 alone, a little languidly, to the front of the stage. At 
 the first sound of her voice M. Graillot, nodding his head 
 vigorously, was soothed. 
 
 Her speech was a long one. It appeared that she 
 had been arraigned before a company of her relatives, 
 assembled to comment upon her misdeeds. She wound 
 up with a passionate appeal to her husband, Mr. Miles 
 Faraday, who had made an unexpected appearance. 
 M. Graillot's face, as she concluded, was wreathed in 
 smiles. 
 
 " Ah ! " he cried. " You have lifted us all up ! Now 
 I feel once more the inspiration. Mademoiselle, I kiss 
 your hand," he went on. " It is you who still redeem 
 my play. You bring back the spirit of it to me. In 
 you I see the embodiment of my Therese" 
 
 Miles Faraday gave a little sigh of relief and glanced 
 gratefully toward Louise. She nodded back to him and 
 gave her hand to the Frenchman, who held it to his 
 lips. 
 
 "You flatter me, M. Graillot," she said. "It is 
 simply that I feel the force of your beautiful words. 
 Thcrese is a wonderful conception! As to those dis- 
 puted passages well, I feel myself in a very difficult 
 position. Artistically, I am entirely in accord with 
 you, and yet I understand exactly what Mr. Faraday 
 means from the commercial point of view. Let us sub- 
 mit the matter to the prince. He knows something of 
 both sides of the question." 
 
 The Prince of Seyre, who was seated in the orchestra- 
 leader's chair, looked reproachfully toward Louise.
 
 THE HILLMAN 69 
 
 " Is this fair ? " he protested. " Remember that I 
 am more than half a Frenchman, and that I am one of 
 our friend's most faithful disciples. I realize the deli- 
 cacy of the situation, and I understand Mr. Faraday's 
 point of view. I tell you frankly that the thought of 
 an empty theater appals me. It is not the money I 
 am sure you all know that but there isn't a single 
 man or woman in the world who can do his best unless 
 he or she plays to a full house. Somehow or other, we 
 must secure our audience." 
 
 " It really comes to this," Faraday intervened. 
 ** Shall we achieve a purely artistic triumph and drive 
 the people away ? Or shall we at the expense, I ad- 
 mit, of some of the finest passages in M. Graillot's su- 
 perb drama compromise the matter and keep our 
 box-office open? In a more humble way I hope I also 
 may call myself an artist ; and yet not only must I live 
 myself, but I have a staff of employees dependent 
 upon me." 
 
 Graillot waved his hand. 
 
 " So ! No more ! " he exclaimed grandiloquently. 
 '* The affair is finished. My consent is given. Delete 
 the lines! As to the scene laid in the bedroom of 
 madame, to-night I shall take up my pen. By noon to- 
 morrow I will give you a revision which will puff out the 
 cheeks of the Philistines with satisfaction. Have no 
 fear, cher ami Faraday ! Mothers shall bring their 
 unmarried daughters to see our play. They shall all 
 watch it without a blush. If there is anything to make 
 the others think, it shall be beneath the surface. It 
 shall be for the great artist whom it is my supreme joy 
 to watch," he went on, bowing to Louise, " to act and 
 express the real truth of my ideas through the music 
 of innocent words."
 
 70 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " Then all is arranged," Miles Faraday concluded 
 briskly. " We will leave the second act until tomor- 
 row; then M. Graillot will bring us his revision. We 
 will proceed now to the next act. Stand back a little, 
 if you please, ladies and gentlemen. Miss Maurel, will 
 you make your entrance? " 
 
 Louise made no movement. Her eyes were fixed upon 
 a certain shadowy corner of the wings. Overwrought 
 as she had seemed a few minutes ago, with the emotional 
 excitement of her long speech, there was now a new and 
 curious expression upon her face. She seemed to be 
 looking beyond the gloomy, unlit spaces of the theater; 
 into some unexpected land. 
 
 Curiously enough, the three people there most inter- 
 ested in her the prince, Graillot, and her friend^ 
 Sophy Gerard each noticed the change. The little 
 fair-haired girl, who owed her small part in the play 
 to Louise, quitted her chair to follow the direction of 
 her friend's eyes. Faraday, with the frown of an actor- 
 manager resenting an intrusion, gazed in the same di- 
 rection. 
 
 To Sophy, the newcomer was simply the handsomest 
 young man she had ever seen in her life. To Faraday 
 he represented nothing more nor less than the unwel- 
 come intruder. The prince alone, with immovable fea- 
 tures, but with a slight contraction of his eyebrows, 
 gazed with distrust, almost with fear, unaccountable yet 
 disturbing, at the tall hesitating figure that stood just 
 off the stage. 
 
 Louise only knew that she was amazed at herself, 
 amazed to find the walls of the theater falling away from 
 her. She forgot the little company of her friends by 
 whom she was surrounded. She forgot the existence of 
 the famous dramatist who hung upon her words, and
 
 THE HILLMAN 71 
 
 the close presence of the prince. Her feet no longer 
 trod the dusty boards of the theater. She was almost 
 painfully conscious of the perfume of apple-blossom. 
 
 " You ! " she exclaimed, stretching out her hands. 
 *' Why do you not come and speak to me ? I am here ! " 
 
 John came out upon the stage. The French drama- 
 tist, with his hands behind his back, made swift mental 
 notes of an interesting situation. He saw the coming 
 of a man who stood like a giant among them, sunburnt, 
 buoyant with health, his eyes bright with the wonder 
 of his unexpected surroundings ; a man in whose pres- 
 ence every one else seemed to represent an effete and 
 pallid type of humanity. 
 
 The dramatist and the prince were satisfied, however, 
 with one single glance at the newcomer. Afterward, 
 their whole regard was focused upon Louise. The same 
 thought was in the mind of both of them the same 
 fear!
 
 Those first few sentences, spoken in the midst of a 
 curious little crowd of strangers, seemed to John, when 
 he thought of his long waiting, almost piteously inade- 
 quate. Louise, recognizing the difficulty of the situa- 
 tion, swiftly recovered her composure. She was both 
 tactful and gracious. 
 
 " Do tell me how you got in here," she said. " No 
 one is allowed to pass the stage door at rehearsal times. 
 Mr. Faraday, to whom I will introduce you in a mo- 
 ment, is a perfect autocrat ; and Mr. Mullins, our stage 
 manager, is even worse." 
 
 " I just asked for you," John explained. " The 
 (doorkeeper told me that you were engaged, but I per-c 
 suaded him to let me come in." 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 '* Bribery ! " she declared accusingly. 
 
 " I heard your voice, and after that it was hard to go 
 away. I'm afraid I ought to have waited outside." 
 
 Louise turned to Miles Faraday, who was looking a 
 little annoyed. 
 
 " Mr. Faraday," she said appealingly, " Mr. 
 Strangewey comes from the country he is, in fact, 
 the most complete countryman I have ever met in my 
 life. He comes from Cumberland, and he once well, 
 very nearly saved my life. He knows nothing about 
 theaters, and he hasn't the least idea of the importance
 
 THE HILLMAN 73 
 
 of a rehearsal. You won't mind if we put him some- 
 where out of the way till we have finished, will you ? " 
 
 " After such an introduction," Faraday said in a 
 tone of resignation, " Mr. Strangewey would be wel- 
 come at any time." 
 
 " There's a dear man ! " Louise exclaimed. " Let me 
 introduce him quickly. Mr. John Strangewey Mr. 
 Miles Faraday, M. Graillot, Miss Sophy Gerard, my 
 particular little friend. The prince you already know, 
 although you may not recognize him trying to balance 
 himself on that absurd stool." 
 
 John bowed in various directions, and Faraday, tak- 
 ing him good-naturedly by the arm, led him to a garden- 
 seat at the back of the stage. 
 
 " There ! " he said. " You are one of the most 
 privileged persons in London. You shall hear the finish 
 of our rehearsal. There isn't a press man in London 
 I'd have near the place." 
 
 " Very kind of you, I'm sure," John replied. " Is 
 [this, may I ask, the play that you are soon going to 
 produce? " 
 
 " Three weeks from next Monday, I hope," Faraday 
 told him. " Don't attempt to judge by anything you 
 hear this afternoon. We are just deciding upon some 
 cuts. See you later. You may smoke, if you like." 
 
 Twenty-four hours away from his silent hills, John 
 looked out with puzzled eyes from his dusty seat among 
 ropes and pulleys and leaning fragments of scenery. 
 What he saw and heard seemed to him, for the most 
 part, a meaningless tangle of gestures and phrases. 
 The men and women in fashionable clothes, moving 
 about before that gloomy space of empty auditorium, 
 looked more like marionettes than creatures of flesh and 
 blood, drawn this way and that at the bidding of the
 
 74 THE HILLMAN 
 
 stout, masterly Frenchman, who was continually mut- 
 tering exclamations and banging the manuscript upon 
 his hand. 
 
 He kept his eyes fixed upon Louise. He told himself 
 that he was in her presence at last. As the moments 
 passed, it became more and more difficult for him to 
 realize the actuality of the scene upon which he was 
 looking. It seemed like a dream-picture, with unreal 
 men and women moving about aimlessly, saying strange 
 words. 
 
 Then there came a moment which brought a tingle 
 into his blood, which plunged his senses into hot confu- 
 sion. He rose to his feet. Faraday was sitting down, 
 and Louise was resting both her hands upon his 
 shoulders. 
 
 ** Is there nothing I can be to you, then, Edmund? " 
 she asked, her voice vibrating with a passion which he 
 found it hard to believe was not real. 
 
 Faraday turned slowly in his chair. He held out 
 his arms. 
 
 " One thing," he murmured. 
 
 John had moved half a step forward when he felt the 
 prince's eyes fixed upon him, and was conscious of a 
 sudden sense of ignorance, almost of uncouthness. It 
 was a play which they were rehearsing, of course! It 
 was a damnable thing to see Louise taken into that cold 
 and obviously unreal embrace, but it was only a play. 
 It was part of her work. 
 
 John resumed his seat and folded his arms. With 
 the embrace had fallen an imaginary curtain, and the 
 rehearsal was over. They were all crowded together, 
 talking, in the center of the stage. The prince, who 
 had stepped across the footlights, made his way to 
 where John was sitting.
 
 THE HILLMAN 75 
 
 '** So you have deserted Cumberland for a time? " he 
 courteously inquired. 
 
 " I came up last night," John replied. 
 
 ** You are making a long stay ? " 
 
 John hesitated. He felt that no one knew less of his 
 movements than he himself. His eyes had wandered to 
 where Louise and Graillot were talking. 
 
 " I can scarcely tell yet. I have made no plans." 
 
 " London, at this season of the year," the prince ob- 
 served, " is scarcely at its best." 
 
 John smiled. 
 
 " I am afraid," he said, " that I am not critical. It 
 is eight years since I was here last, on my way down 
 from Oxford." 
 
 " You have been abroad, perhaps ? " the prince in- 
 quired. 
 
 " I have not been out of Cumberland (during the whole 
 of that time," John confessed. 
 
 The prince, after a moment's incredulous stare, 
 laughed softly to himself. 
 
 " You are a yery wonderful person, Mr. Strange- 
 wey," he declared. " I have heard of your good for- 
 tune. If I can be of any service to you during your 
 stay in town," he added politely, " please command me." 
 
 " You are very kind," John replied gratefully. 
 
 Louise broke away from the little group and came 
 across toward them. 
 
 " Free at last ! " she exclaimed. " Now let us go out 
 and have some tea." 
 
 They made their way down the little passage and out 
 into the sudden blaze of the sunlit streets. Two cars 
 were drawn up outside the stage door. 
 
 " The Carlton or Rumpelmayer's ? " asked the prince, 
 who had overtaken them upon the pavement.
 
 76 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " The Carlton, I think," Louise decided. " We can 
 get a quiet table there inside the restaurant. You 
 bring Sophy, trill you, Eugene? I am going to take 
 possession of Mr. Strangewey." 
 
 The prince, with a little bow, pointed to the door of 
 his limousine, which a footman was holding open. 
 Louise led John to a smaller car which was waiting in 
 the rear. 
 
 " The Carlton," she told the man, as he arranged the 
 rugs. " And now," she added, turning to John, " why 
 have you come to London ? How long are you going to 
 stay ? What are you going to do ? And most im- 
 portant of all in what spirit have you come? " 
 
 John breathed a little sigh of contentment. They 
 were moving slowly down a back street to take their 
 place in the tide of traffic which flooded the main thor- 
 oughfares. 
 
 ** That sounds so like you," he said. " I came up 
 last night, suddenly. I have no idea how long I am 
 going to stay ; I have no idea what I am going to do. 
 As for the spirit in which I have come well, I should 
 call it an inquiring one." 
 
 " A very good start," Louise murmured approvingly, 
 " but still a little vague ! " 
 
 " Then I will do away with all vagueness. I came to 
 see you," John confessed bluntly. 
 
 " Dear me ! " she exclaimed, looking at him with a 
 little smile. " How downright you are ! " 
 
 " Country methods," he reminded her. 
 
 " Don't overdo it," she begged. 
 
 " The truth " he began. 
 
 " Has to be handled very carefully," she said, inter- 
 rupting him. " The truth is either beautiful or crude, 
 and the people who meddle with such a wonderful thing
 
 THE HILLMAN 77 
 
 need a great deal of tact. You have come to see me, 
 you say. Very well, then, I will be just as frank. I 
 have been hoping that you would come ! " 
 
 " You can't imagine how good it is to hear you say 
 that," he declared. 
 
 " Mind," she went on, " I have been hoping it for 
 more reasons than one. You have come to realize, I 
 hope, that it is your duty to try to see a little more of 
 life than you possibly can leading a patriarchal ex- 
 istence among your flocks and herds." 
 
 " That may be so," John assented. *' I have often 
 thought of our conversation. I don't know, even now, 
 whether you were right or wrong. I only know that 
 since you went away I have felt something of the unrest 
 with which you threatened me. I want to settle the 
 matter one way or the other. I want to try, for a 
 little time, what it is like to live in the crowded places, 
 to be near you, to see, if I may, more of you and your 
 way of living." 
 
 They were silent for several moments. 
 
 " I thought you would come," Louise said at last ; 
 " and I am glad, but even in these first few minutes I 
 want to say something to you. If you wish to succeed 
 in your object, and really understand the people you 
 meet here and the life they lead, don't be like your 
 brother too quick to judge. Do not hug your prej- 
 udices too tightly. You will come across many prob- 
 lems, many situations which will seem strange to you. 
 Do not make up your mind about anything in a 
 hurry." 
 
 " I will remember that," he promised. " You must 
 remember, though, that I don't expect ever to become a 
 convert. I believe I am a countryman, bred and born. 
 Still, there are some things that I want to understand,
 
 8 THE HILLMAN 
 
 if I can, and, more than anything else I want to see 
 you ! " 
 
 She faced his direct speech this time with more de- 
 liberation. 
 
 " Tell me exactly why." 
 
 " If I could tell you that," he replied simply, " I 
 should be able to answer for myself the riddle which 
 has kept me awake at night for weeks and months, 
 which has puzzled me more than anything else in life 
 has ever done." 
 
 " You really have thought of me, then ? " 
 
 "Didn't you always know that I should?" 
 
 " Perhaps," she admitted. " Anyhow, I always felt 
 that we should meet again, that you would come to Lon- 
 don. The problem is," she added, smiling, " what to do 
 with you now you are here." 
 
 " I haven't come to be a nuisance," he assured her. 
 " I just want a little help from you." 
 
 She became indiscreet. She looked at him with a 
 little smile at the corners of her lips. 
 
 " Nothing else ? " she asked, almost under her breath. 
 
 " At the end of it all, yes," he answered simply. " I 
 want to understand because it is your world. I want 
 to feel myself nearer to you. I want " 
 
 She gripped at his arm suddenly. She knew well 
 enough that she had deliberately provoked his words, 
 but there was a look in her face almost of fear. 
 
 " Don't let us be too serious all at once," she begged 
 quickly. " If you have one fault, my dear big friend 
 from the country," she went on, with a swiftly assumed 
 gaiety, " it is that you are too serious for your years. 
 Sophy and I between us must try to cure you of that! 
 You see, we have arrived." 
 
 He handed her out, followed her across the pavement,
 
 THE HILLMAN 79 
 
 and found himself plunged into what seemed to him to 
 be an absolute vortex of human beings, all dressed in 
 very much the same fashion, all laughing and talking 
 together very much in the same note, all criticising every 
 fresh group of arrivals with very much the same eyes 
 and manner. The palm-court was crowded with little 
 parties seated at the various round tables, partaking 
 languidly of the most indolent meal of the day. Even, 
 the broad passageway was full of men and women, 
 standing about talking or looking for tables. One 
 could scarcely hear the music of the orchestra for the 
 babel of voices. 
 
 The Prince of Seyre beckoned to them from the steps. 
 He seemed to have been awaiting their arrival there > 
 a cold, immaculate, and, considering his lack of height, 
 a curiously distinguished-looking figure. 
 
 '* I have a table inside," he told them as they ap- 
 proached. " It is better for conversation. The rest 
 of the place is like a beer-garden. I am not sure if 
 they will dance here to-day, but if they do, they will 
 come also into the restaurant." 
 
 " Wise man ! " Louise declared. " I, too, hate the 
 babel outside." 
 
 They were ushered to a round table directly before 
 the entrance, and a couple of attentive waiters stood 
 behind their chairs. 
 
 " We are faced," said the prince, as he took up the 
 menu, " with our daily problem. What can I order for 
 you?" 
 
 " A cup of chocolate," Louise replied. 
 
 "And Miss Sophy?" 
 
 "Tea, please." 
 
 John, too, preferred tea ; the prince ordered absinth. 
 
 " A polyglot meal, isn't it, Mr. Strangewey ? " said
 
 So THE HILLMAN 
 
 Louise, as the order was executed ; " not in the leas 
 what that wonderful old butler of jours would under- 
 stand by tea. We become depraved in our appetites, 
 as well as in our sensations. We are always seeking 
 for something new. Sophy, put your hat on straight 
 if you want to make a good impression on Mr. Strange- 
 wey. I am hoping that you two will be great friends." 
 
 Sophy turned toward John with a little grimace. 
 
 " Louise is so tactless ! " she said. " I am sure any 
 idea you might have had of liking me will have gone 
 already. Has it, Mr. Strangewey ? " 
 
 " On the contrary," he replied, a little stiffly, but 
 without hesitation, " I was thinking that Miss Maurel 
 could scarcely have set me a more pleasant task." 
 
 The girl looked reproachfully across at her friend. 
 
 " You told me he came from the wilds and was quite 
 unsophisticated ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 " The truth," John assured them, looking with dis- 
 may at his little china cup, " comes very easily to us. 
 We are brought up on it in Cumberland." 
 
 " Positively nourished on it," Louise agreed. " My 
 dear Sophy, what he says is quite true. Up there a 
 man would tell you that he didn't like the cut of your 
 new blouse or the droop of your hat. It's a wonder- 
 ful atmosphere, and very austere. You ought to meet 
 Mr. Strangewey's brother, if you want to know the 
 truth about yourself. Do go on looking about you, 
 Mr. Strangewey ; and when you have finished, tell us just 
 what you are thinking." 
 
 " Well, just at that moment," he replied, " I was 
 thinking that I ought not to have come here in these 
 clothes." 
 
 The girl by his side laughed reassuringly. 
 
 "As a matter of fact, you couldn't have done any
 
 THE HILLMAN 81 
 
 thing more successful," she declared. " The one thing 
 up here that every one would like to do if he dared is to 
 be different from his fellows; but very few have the 
 necessary courage. Besides, at heart we are all so 
 frightfully, hatefully imitative. The last great suc- 
 cess was the prince, when he wore a black stock with a 
 dinner-coat ; but, alas, next evening there were forty or 
 fifty of them ! If you come here to tea to-morrow aft- 
 ernoon, I dare say you will find dozens of men wearing 
 gray tweed clothes, colored shirts, and brown boots. I 
 am sure they are most becoming ! " 
 
 " Don't chatter too much, child," Louise said be- 
 nignly. " I want to hear some more of Mr. Strange- 
 wey's impressions. This is well, if not quite a fash- 
 ionable crowd, yet very nearly so. What do you think 
 of it the women, for instance ? " 
 
 " Well, to me," John confesed candidly, " they all 
 look like dolls or manikins. Their dresses and their 
 hats overshadow their faces. They seem all the time to 
 be wanting to show, not themselves, but what they have 
 on." 
 
 They all laughed. Even the prince's lips were 
 parted by the flicker of a smile. Sophy leaned across 
 the table with a sigh. 
 
 " Louise," she pleaded, " you will lend him to me 
 sometimes, won't you? You won't keep him altogether 
 to yourself? There are such a lot of places I want to 
 take him to ! " 
 
 " I was never greedy," Louise remarked, with an air 
 of self-satisfaction. " If you succeed in making a fa- 
 vorable impression upon him, I promise you your 
 share." 
 
 " Tell us some more of your impressions, Mr. 
 Strangewey," Sophy begged.
 
 82 THE HILLMAN 
 
 *' You want to laugh at me," John protested good- 
 humoredlj. 
 
 " On the contrary," the prince assured him, as he 
 fitted a cigarette into a long, amber tube, " they want 
 to laugh with you. You ought to realize your value as 
 a companion in these days. You are the only person 
 who can see the truth. Eyes and tastes blurred with 
 custom perceive so little. You are quite right when 
 you say that these women are like manikins ; that their 
 bodies and faces are lost; but one does not notice it 
 Until it is pointed out." 
 
 " We will revert," Louise decided, " to a more primi- 
 tive life. You and I will inaugurate a missionary en- 
 terprise, Mr. Strangewey. We will judge the world 
 afresh. We will reclothe and rehabilitate it." 
 
 The prince flicked the ash from the end of his ciga- 
 rette. 
 
 '* Morally as well as sartorially ? " he asked. 
 
 There was a moment's rather queer silence. The 
 music rose above the hubbub of voices and died away 
 again. Louise rose to her feet. 
 
 " Quite an intelligent person, really," she said, mov- 
 ing her head in the direction of the prince. " His little 
 attacks of cynicism come only with indigestion or after 
 absinth. Now, if you like, you shall escort me home, 
 Mr. Strangewey. I want to show him exactly where I 
 live," she explained, addressing the others, " so that he 
 will have no excuse for not coming to pay his respects 
 to me to-morrow afternoon." 
 
 The prince, with a skilful maneuver, made his way to 
 her side as they left the restaurant. 
 
 "To-morrow afternoon, I think you said?" he re- 
 peated quietly. " You will be in town then ? " 
 
 "Yes, I think so."
 
 THE HILLMAN 83 
 
 " You have changed your mind, then, about " 
 
 '* M. Graillot will not listen to my leaving London," 
 she interrupted rapidly. "He declares that it is too 
 near the production of the play. My own part may be 
 perfect, but he needs me for the sake of the others. 
 He puts it like a Frenchman, of course." 
 
 They had reached the outer door, which was being 
 held open for them by a bowing commissionnaire. John 
 and Sophy were waiting upon the pavement. The 
 prince drew a little back. 
 
 " I understand ! " he murmured.
 
 IX 
 
 The first few minutes that John spent in Louise's 
 little house were full of acute and vivid interest. From 
 the moment of his first meeting with Louise upon the 
 moonlit Cumberland road, during the whole of that next 
 wonderful morning until their parting, and afterward, 
 through all the long, dreaming days and nights that 
 had intervened, she had remained a mystery to him. 
 It was amazing how little he really knew of her. Dur- 
 ing his journey to town, he had sat with folded arms 
 in the corner of his compartment, wondering whether 
 in her own environment he would find her easier to un- 
 derstand. 
 
 He asked himself that question again now, as he 
 found himself in her drawing-room, in a room entirely 
 redolent of her personality. Their meeting at the the- 
 ater had told him nothing. She had gratified his senti- 
 ment by the pleasure she had shown at his unexpected 
 appearance, but his understanding remained unsatisfied. 
 
 The room that he was so eagerly studying confirmed 
 his cloudy impressions of its owner. There was, for a 
 woman's apartment, a curious absence of ornamenta- 
 tion and knickknacks. The walls were black and white, 
 an idea fantastic in its way, yet carried out with ex- 
 treme lightness in the ceiling and frieze. The carpet 
 was white ; the furniture, of which there was very little, 
 of the French period before the rococo type, graceful 
 in its outline, rather heavy in build, and covered with
 
 THE HILLMAN 85 
 
 old-rose colored chintz. There were water-colors upon 
 the wall, an etching or two from a Parisian studio, and 
 some small black-and-white fantasies, puzzling to John, 
 who had never even heard the term Futurist, yet in 
 their way satisfactory. 
 
 There was a small-sized grand piano, which seemed to 
 have found its way almost apologetically into a remote 
 corner; a delightful open fireplace with rough, white 
 tiles, and an old-fashioned brass box, in which was piled 
 a little heap of sweet-smelling wood blocks. A table, 
 drawn up to the side of one of the easy chairs, was 
 covered with books and magazines, some Italian, a few 
 English, the greater part French ; and upon a smaller 
 one, close at hand, stood a white bowl full of pink roses. 
 Their odor was somehow reminiscent of Louise, curi- 
 ously sweet and wholesome an odor which suddenly 
 took him back to the morning when she had come to 
 him from under the canopy of apple-blossom. 
 
 He drew a little sigh of contentment as he rose to his 
 feet and walked to the window. The room charmed 
 him. It was wonderful that he should find it like this. 
 His heart began to beat with pleasure even before the 
 opening of the door announced her presence. She 
 came in with Sophy, who at once seated herself by his 
 side. 
 
 " We have been making plans," Louise declared, " for 
 disposing of you for the rest of the day." 
 
 John smiled happily. 
 
 " You're not sending me away, then ? You're not 
 acting this evening? " 
 
 " Not until three weeks next Monday," she replied. 
 " Then, if you are good, and the production is not post- 
 poned, you may seat yourself in a box and make all the 
 noise you like after the fall of the curtain. These are
 
 86 THE HILLMAN 
 
 real holidays for me, except for the nuisance of re* 
 hearsals. You couldn't have come at a better time." 
 
 Sophy glanced at the clock. 
 
 " Well," she said, " I must show my respect to that 
 most ancient of adages by taking my departure. I 
 feel" 
 
 " You will do nothing of the sort, child," Louise 
 interrupted. " I want to interest you in the evolution 
 of Mr. Strangewey." 
 
 " I don't feel that I am necessary," Sophy sighed* 
 " Perhaps I might take him off your hands some evening; 
 when you are busy." 
 
 " On this first evening, at any rate," Louise insisted, 
 ** we are going to be a truly harmonious party of three.*' 
 
 " Of course, if you really mean it," Sophy remarked, 
 resuming her seat, " and if I sha'n't make an enemy for] 
 life of Mr. Strangewey, I should love to come, too. 
 Let's decide what to do with him, Louise." 
 
 For a moment the eyes of the two others met. Lou- 
 ise looked swiftly away, and John's heart gave a little 
 leap. Was it possible that the same thought had been 
 in her mind to spend the evening quietly in that little 
 room ? Had she feared it ? 
 
 " We must remember," Louise said calmly, '* that a 
 heavy responsibility rests upon us. It is his first night 
 in London. What aspect of it shall we attempt to 
 show him? Shall we make ourselves resplendent, put 
 on our best manners and our most gorgeous gowns, and 
 show him the world of starch and form and fashion from 
 the prince's box at the opera? Or shall we transform 
 ourselves into Bohemians, drink Chianti at our beloved 
 Antonio's, cat Italian food in Soho, smoke long ciga- 
 rettes, and take him to the Palace? Don't say a word, 
 Sophy. It is not for us to choose."
 
 THE HILLMAN 87 
 
 " I am afraid that isn't any choice," John (declared, 
 his face falling. " I haven't any clothes except what 
 you see me in." 
 
 " Hooray ! " Sophy exclaimed. " Off with your 
 smart gown, Louise! We'll be splendidly Bohemian. 
 You shall put on your black frock and a black hat, and 
 powder your nose, and we'll all go to Guido's first and 
 drink vermuth. I can't look the part, but I can act 
 it!" 
 
 " But tell me," Louise asked him, " did you lose your 
 luggage?" 
 
 " I brought none," he answered. 
 
 They both looked at him Sophy politely curious, 
 Louise more deeply interested. He answered the in- 
 quiry in her eyes. 
 
 " You'll say, perhaps," he observed, " that living 
 that quiet, half-buried life up in Cumberland one should 
 have no moods. I have them sometimes. I was in 
 Market Ketton, on my way to the hotel for lunch, when 
 I heard the whistle of the London Express coming in. 
 I just had time to drive to the station, leave the horse 
 and dog-cart with a man I knew, and jump into the 
 train. I had no ticket or luggage." 
 
 They both stared at him. 
 
 ** You mean," Louise demanded, *' that after waiting 
 all these months you started away upon impulse like 
 that without even letting your brother know or 
 bringing any luggage ? " 
 
 " That's exactly what I idid," John agreed, smiling. 
 *' I had a sovereign in my pocket when I had bought my 
 ticket ; and by the time I had paid for my dinner on the 
 train, and tipped the men well, I hadn't a great deal 
 left to go shopping with. I stayed at the St. Pancras 
 : Hotel, and telephoned to my solicitor before I got up
 
 88 THE HILLMAN 
 
 this morning to have him send me some money. The 
 joke of it was," he went on, joining in the girls' laugh- 
 ter, " that Mr. Appleton has been worrying me for 
 months to come up and talk over reinvestments, and 
 take control of the money my uncle left me ; and when I 
 came at last, I arrived like a pauper. He went out 
 himself and bought my shirt." 
 
 " And a very nice shirt, too," Sophy declared, glanc- 
 ing at the pattern. " Do tell us what else hap- 
 pened ! " 
 
 " Well, not much more," John replied. " Mr. Ap- 
 pleton stuffed me full of money and made me take a little 
 suite of rooms at what he called a more fashionable 
 hotel. He stayed to lunch with me, and I have prom- 
 ised to see him on business to-morrow morning." 
 
 The two girls sat up and wiped their eyes. 
 
 " Oh, this is a wonderful adventure you have em- 
 barked upon ! " Louise exclaimed. " You have come 
 quite in the right spirit. Now I am going to change 
 my clothes and powder my face, and we will go to Gui- 
 de's for a little vermuth, dine at Antonio's, and sit side 
 by side at the Palace. We shall have to take Sophy 
 with us, but if you show her too much attention I shall 
 send her home. It is your first night here, Mr. 
 Strangewey, so I warn you that Sophy is the most ir- 
 responsible and capricious of all my friends. She has 
 more admirers than she knows what to do with, and 
 she disposes of them in the simplest way in the world 
 by getting new ones." 
 
 Sophy made a grimace. 
 
 " Mr. Strangewey," she begged earnestly, " you 
 won't believe a word she says, will you? All my life I 
 have been looking for a single and steadfast attachment. 
 Of course, if Louise wants to monopolize you, I shall
 
 THE HILLMAN 89 
 
 fall into the background, as I usually do; but if you 
 think that I am going to accept hints and let you go 
 out to dinner alone, you are very much mistaken. To- 
 night, at any rate, I insist upon coming ! " 
 
 Louise shook her head. 
 
 *' We shall have to put up with her," she told John 
 with a little grimace. 
 
 The door of the room was suddenly opened. The 
 parlor maid stood at one side. 
 
 " The Prince of Seyre, madam," she announced. 
 
 Louise nodded. She was evidently expecting the 
 yisit. She turned to John. 
 
 " Will you come back and call for us here say at 
 seven o'clock? Mind, you are not to bother about your 
 clothes, but to come just as you are. I can't tell you," 
 she added under her breath, " how much I am looking 
 forward to our evening ! " 
 
 Sophy sprang to her feet. 
 
 " Won't you drop me, please, Mr. Strangewey ? " she 
 asked. " Then, if you will be so kind, you can pick me 
 tip again on your way here. You'll have to pass where 
 I live, if you are at the Milan. I must go home and do 
 my little best to compete." 
 
 Louise's frown was so slight that even John failed to 
 iiotice it. Upon the threshold they encountered the 
 prince, who detained John for a moment. 
 
 " I was hoping that I might meet you here, Mr. 
 Strangewey," he said. " If you are in town for long, it 
 will give me great pleasure if I can be of any service to 
 you. You are staying at a hotel? " 
 
 " I am staying at the Milan," John replied. 
 
 " I will do myself the pleasure of calling upon you," 
 the prince continued. " In the meantime, if you need 
 any service that a Londoner can offer you, be sure to let
 
 go THE HILLMAN 
 
 me know. You will easily find my house in Grosveno? 
 Square." 
 
 " It is very kind of you indeed," John said gratefully. 
 
 Sophy made a wry face as the prince entered the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 " Didn't some old Roman once write something about 
 being afraid of Greeks who brought gifts ? " she asked, 
 as they descended the stairs together. 
 
 " Quite right," John assented. 
 
 "Well, b(j careful!" she advised him. "That's 
 all." 
 
 John handed Sophy into the taxi and took his place 
 beside her. 
 
 " Where shall I put you down? " he asked. 
 
 " It's such a terribly low neighborhood ! However, 
 it's quite close to the Milan- No. 10 Southampton 
 Street." 
 
 John gave the address to the man, and they started 
 off. They were blocked in a stream of traffic almost as 
 soon as they reached Hyde Park Corner. John leaned 
 forward all the time, immensely interested in the stream 
 of passers-by. 
 
 *' Your interest in your fellow creatures," she mur- 
 mured demurely, '* is wonderful, but couldn't you con- 
 centrate it just a little? " 
 
 He turned quickly around. She was smiling at him 
 most alluringly. Unconsciously he found himself smil- 
 ing back again. A wonderful light-heartedness seemed 
 to have come to him during the last few hours. 
 
 " I suppose I am a perfect idiot," he admitted. " I 
 cannot help it. I am used to seeing, at the most, three 
 or four people together at a time. I can't understand 
 these crowds. Where are they all going? Fancjr
 
 THE HILLMAN 91 
 
 every one of them having a home, every one of them 
 struggling in some form or another toward happi- 
 ness ! " 
 
 " Do you know," she pronounced severely, " for a 
 young man of your age you are much too serious? 
 Please commence your psychological studies to-morrow. 
 To-night we are going to have a really frivolous eve- 
 ning, you and I and Louise. If you want to be a 
 great success during the next few hours, what you have 
 to do is to imagine that there are only two people in the 
 world beside yourself Louise and I." 
 
 " I think I shall find that very easy," he promised, 
 smiling. 
 
 *' I am quite sure you could be nice if you wanted 
 to," she continued. " How much are you in love with 
 Louise? " 
 
 " How much am I what? " 
 
 " In love with Louise," she repeated. ** All the men 
 are. It is a perfect cult with them. And here am I, 
 her humble companion and friend, absolutely neg- 
 lected!" 
 
 " I don't believe you are neglected at all," he replied. 
 " You are too much too " 
 
 He turned his head to look at her. She was so close 
 to him that their hats collided. He was profuse in his 
 apologies. 
 
 " Too what ? " she whispered. 
 
 " Too attractive," he ventured. 
 
 " It's nice to hear you say so," she sighed. " Well, 
 I have to get out here. This is where I live, up on the 
 fourth floor." 
 
 " How does one get there? " he inquired. 
 
 She looked at him quickly. There was a little catch 
 in her breath.
 
 92 THE HILLMAN 
 
 "What do you mean? " she murmured. 
 
 *' Didn't you say that I was to come and fetch you, 
 and then we could go on to Miss Maurel's together ? " 
 
 " Of course," she assented slowly. " How stupid of 
 me! Some day I'll show you, but I know you would 
 lose the way now. If you like, I'll come for you to 
 the Milan." 
 
 " If you would really prefer it ? " 
 
 " I am quite sure that I should," she decided. 
 ** There are about seven turns up to my room, and I 
 shall have to personally conduct you there three or four 
 times before you'll ever be able to find your way. I will 
 come as soon as I am ready, and then you can give me 
 a cocktail before we set out." 
 
 She disappeared with a little wave of the hand, and 
 John drove on to his destination. His rooms at the 
 Milan were immensely comfortable and in their way 
 quite homelike. John made some small changes to his 
 toilet and was still in his shirt-sleeves, with hair-brushes 
 in his hands, when there came a ring at the bell. He 
 answered it at once and found Sophy standing outside. 
 He gave a little start. 
 
 " I say, I'm awfully sorry ! " 
 
 '* What for, you silly person ? " she laughed. " Which 
 way is the sitting room, please? Oh, I see! Now, 
 please ring for the waiter and order me a vermuth cock- 
 tail, and one for yourself, of course ; and I want some 
 cigarettes. How clever of you to get rooms looking out 
 upon the Embankment! I wish they would light the 
 lamps. I think the illuminated arcs along the Embank- 
 ment and past the Houses of Parliament is the most 
 wonderful thing in London. Don't please, look so ter- 
 rified because you haven't got your coat on! Remem- 
 ber that I have five brothers."
 
 THE HILLMAN 93 
 
 " I had no idea you would be here so soon," he ex- 
 plained, " or I would have been downstairs, waiting for 
 you." ' 
 
 " Don't be stupid ! " she replied. " Please remember 
 that when you are with me, at any rate, you are in 
 Bohemia and not Belgravia. I don't expect such at- 
 tentions. I rather like coming up to your rooms like 
 this, and I always love the Milan. I really believe that 
 I am your first lady visitor here." 
 
 " You most assuredly are ! " he told her. 
 
 She turned away from the window and suddenly threw 
 up her arms. 
 
 " Oh, I love this place ! " she exclaimed. " I love the 
 sort of evening that we are going to have ! I feel happy 
 to-night. And do you know? I quite like you, Mr. 
 Strangewey ! " 
 
 She clasped the back of her chair and from behind it 
 looked across at him. She was petite and slender, with 
 a very dainty figure. She wore a black tailor-made 
 costume, a simple, round-black hat with a long quill set 
 at a provoking angle, white-silk stockings, and black, 
 patent shoes. She was unlike any girl John had ever 
 known. Her hair was almost golden, her eyes a dis- 
 tinct blue, yet some trick of the mouth saved her face 
 from any suggestion of insipidity. She was looking 
 straight into his eyes, and her lips were curled most in- 
 vitingly. 
 
 *' I wish I knew more about certain things," he said. 
 
 She came round from behind the chair and stood a 
 little nearer to him. 
 
 "What things?" 
 
 " You know," he said, " I am afraid there is no doubt 
 about it that I am most horribly in love with another 
 woman. I have come to London because of her. It
 
 94 THE HILLMAN 
 
 seems to me that everything in life depends upon how 
 she treats me. And yet " 
 
 " And yet what? " she asked, looking up at him a lit- 
 tle wistfully. 
 
 " I feel that I want to kiss you," he confessed. 
 
 " Well, if you don't get it done before the waiter 
 brings in those cocktails, I shall scream ! " 
 
 He took her lightly in his arms for a moment and 
 kissed her. Then she threw herself down in the easy 
 chair and began to laugh softly. 
 
 " Oh, why didn't you come before ? " she exclaimed. 
 '* Fancy Louise never telling me about you ! " 
 
 The waiter entered a few minutes later. He drew up 
 a small round table between them, placed the two wine- 
 glasses upon it, and departed expeditiously. John 
 took one of the glasses over to Sophy. She accepted 
 it and gave him her fingers to kiss. 
 
 " Dear man," she sighed, " I am getting much too 
 fond of you! Go and sit in your corner, drink your 
 cocktail, and remember Louise. I love your rooms, and 
 I hope you'll ask me to lunch some time." 
 
 " I'll have a luncheon party to-morrow, if you like 
 that is, if Louise will come." 
 
 She looked up at him quickly. 
 
 " Isn't Louise going to Paris ? " she asked. 
 
 He set down the glass which he had been in the act of 
 raising to his lips. 
 
 '* Paris ? I didn't hear her say anything about it." 
 
 ** Perhaps it is my mistake, then," Sophy went on 
 hastily. " I only fancied that I heard her say so." 
 
 There was a moment's silence. John had opened his 
 lips to ask a question, but quickly closed them again. 
 It was a question, he suddenly decided, which he had bet- 
 ter ask of Louise herself.
 
 THE HILLMAN 95 
 
 ** If she does go, I shall be very sorry," he said ; " but 
 I do not wish, of course, to upset her plans. We must 
 talk to her about it to-night. I suppose we ought to go 
 now." 
 
 Sophy walked with him to the door and waited while 
 he took his hat and gloves from the hat-stand. Sud- 
 denly she laid her hand upon his arm. 
 
 " If Louise goes to Paris," she whispered discon- 
 solately, " I suppose there will be no luncheon-party? " 
 
 For a single moment he hesitated. She was very al- 
 luring, and the challenge in her eyes was unmistakable. 
 
 " I think," he said quietly, " that if Miss Maurel goes 
 to Paris, I shall return to Cumberland to-morrow." 
 
 He opened the door, and Sophy passed out before him. 
 She had dropped her veil. 
 
 They drove down the Strand toward Knightsbridge. 
 For a time there was a significant silence. Then Sophy 
 raised her veil once more and looked toward John. 
 
 '* Mr. Strangewey," she began, " you won't mind if 
 I give you just a little word of advice? You are such a 
 big, strong person, but you are rather a child, you know, 
 in some things." 
 
 " This place does make me feel ignorant," he ad- 
 mitted. 
 
 " Don't idealize any one here," she begged. " Don't 
 concentrate all your hopes upon one object. Love is 
 wonderful and life is wonderful, but there is only one life, 
 and there are many loves before one reaches the end. 
 People do such silly things sometimes," she wound up, 
 ** just because of a little disappointment. There are 
 many disappointments to be met with here." 
 
 He took her hand in his. 
 
 " Little girl," he said, *' you are very good to me, and
 
 96 THE HILLMAN 
 
 I think you understand. Are you going to let me feel 
 that I have found a friend on my first evening in Lon- 
 don?" 
 
 " If you want me," she answered simply. " I like 
 you, and I want you to be happy here ; and because I 
 want you to be happy, I want you to come down from 
 the clouds and remember that you have left your hills 
 behind and that we walk on the pavements here." 
 
 " Thank you," he whispered, " and thank you for 
 what you have not said. If I am to find sorrow here in- 
 stead of joy," he added, a little grimly, "it is better 
 for me to stumble into the knowledge of it by myself." 
 
 "Your hills have taught you just that much of life, 
 i;hen? " Sophy murmured.
 
 The Prince of Seyre handed his hat and stick to the 
 parlor maid and seated himself upon the divan. 
 
 " I should be very sorry," he said politely, as the maid 
 left the room, " if my coming has hastened the depar- 
 ture of your visitors." 
 
 " Not in the least," Louise assured him. " They 
 were leaving when you were announced. Sophy and I 
 are taking Mr. Strangewey to a Bohemian restaurant 
 and a music-hall afterward." 
 
 " Fortunate Mr. Strangewey ! " the prince sighed. 
 " But, forgive me, why not a more dignified form of en- 
 tertainment for his first evening? " 
 
 " The poor man has no clothes," Louise explained. 
 *' He came to London quite unexpectedly." 
 
 " No clothes ? " the prince repeated. " It is a long 
 journey to take in such a fashion. A matter of urgent 
 business, perhaps ? " 
 
 Louise shrugged her shoulders. She had risen to her 
 feet and was busy rearranging some roses in the bowl 
 by her side. 
 
 " Mr. Strangewey has just come into a large fortune, 
 as you know," he said. " Probably there are many 
 things to be attended to." 
 
 The prince made no further comment. He drew a 
 tortoise-shell-and-gold cigarette-case from his pocket. 
 
 " It is permitted that one smokes ? " he inquired. 
 
 " It is always permitted to you," was the gracious 
 reply.
 
 98 THE HILLMAN 
 
 *' One of my privileges," he remarked, as he blew out 
 the match ; " in fact, almost my only privilege." 
 
 She glanced up, but her eyes fell before his. 
 
 "Is that quite fair?" 
 
 " I should be grieved to do anything or to say any- 
 thing to you that was not entirely fair." 
 
 She crushed one of the roses to pieces suddenly in her 
 hands and shook the petals from her long, nervous 
 fingers. 
 
 " To-day," she said, " this afternoon now you 
 have come to me with something in your mind, something 
 you wish to say, something you are not sure how to say. 
 That is, you see, what Henri Graillot calls my intuition. 
 Even you, who keep all your feelings under a mask, can 
 conceal very little from me." 
 
 " My present feelings," the prince declared, " I do 
 not wish to conceal. I would like you to know them. 
 But as words are sometimes clumsy, I would like, if it 
 were possible, to let you see into my heart, or, in these 
 days, shall I not say my consciousness? I should 
 feel, then, that without fear of misunderstanding you 
 would know certain things which I would like you to 
 know." 
 
 She came over and seated herself by his side on the 
 divan. She even laid her hand upon his arm. 
 
 " Eugene," she expostulated, " we are too old friends 
 to talk always in veiled phrases. There is something 
 you have to say to me. I am listening." 
 
 " You know what it is," he told her. 
 
 " You are displeased because I have changed my 
 mind about that little journey of ours?" 
 
 " I am bitterly disappointed," he admitted. 
 
 She looked at him curiously and then down at her 
 rose-stained fingers.
 
 THE HILLMAN 99 
 
 ** That does not sound quite like you," she said. 
 ** And yet I ought to know that sometimes you do feel 
 things, even though you show it so little. I am sorry, 
 Eugene." 
 
 " Why are you sorry ? " 
 
 " Because I feel that I cannot take that journey." 
 
 " You mean that you cannot now, or that you cannot 
 at any time ? " 
 
 " I do not know," she answered. " You ask me more 
 than I can tell you. Sometimes life seems so stable, a 
 thing one can make a little chart of and hang up on 
 the wall, and put one's finger here and there * To-day 
 I will do this, to-morrow I will feel that ' and the next 
 morning comes and the chart is in the fire. I wish I 
 understood myself a little better, Eugene ! " 
 
 " Self-understanding is the rarest of all gifts," the 
 prince remarked. " It is left for those who love us 
 to understand us." 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 " I believe that I understand you better, far better, 
 than you understand yourself," he declared. " That 
 is why I also believe that I am necessary to you. I can 
 prevent your making mistakes." 
 
 " Then prevent me," she begged. " Something has 
 happened, and the chart is in the fire to-day." 
 
 " You have only," he said, " to give your maid her 
 orders, to give me this little hand, and I will draw out a 
 fresh one which shall direct to the place in life which 
 is best for you. It is not too late." 
 
 She rose from beside him and walked toward the fire- 
 place, as if to touch the bell. He watched her with 
 steady eyes but expressionless face. There was some- 
 thing curious about her walk. The spring had gone 
 from her feet, her shoulders were a little hunched. It
 
 loo THE HILLMAN 
 
 was the walk of a woman who goes toward the things 
 she fears. 
 
 " Stop ! " he bade her. 
 
 She turned and faced him, quickly, almost eagerly. 
 There was a look in her face of the prisoner who finds 
 respite. 
 
 " Leave the bell alone," he directed. " My own 
 plans are changed. I do not wish to leave London this 
 week." 
 
 Her face was suddenly brilliant, her eyes shone. 
 Something electric seemed to quiver through her frame. 
 She almost danced back to her place by his side. 
 
 " How foolish ! " she murmured. " Why didn't you 
 say so at once? " 
 
 " Because," he replied, " they have only been changed 
 during the last few seconds. I wanted to discover some- 
 thing which I have discovered." 
 
 " To discover something? " 
 
 " That my time has not yet come." 
 
 She turned away from him. She was oppressed with 
 a sense almost of fear, a feeling that he was able to read 
 the very thoughts forming in her brain ; to understand, 
 as no one else in the world could understand, the things 
 that lived in her heart. 
 
 " I must not keep you," he remarked, glancing at the 
 clock. " It was very late for me to call, and you will be 
 "wanting to join your friends." 
 
 " They are coming here for me," she explained. 
 *' There is really no hurry at all. We are not changing 
 anything. It is to be quite a simple evening. Some- 
 times I wish that you cared about things of that sort, 
 Eugene." 
 
 He blew through his lips a little cloud of smoke from 
 the cigarette which he had just lit.
 
 THE HILLMAN 101 
 
 (t I do not fancy," he replied, " that I should be much 
 of a success as a fourth in your little expedition." 
 
 " But it is silly of you not to visit Bohemia occasion- 
 ally," she declared, ignoring the meaning that lay be- 
 neath his words. " It is refreshing to rub shoulders 
 with people who feel, and who show freely what they 
 feel; to eat their food, drink their wine, even join in 
 their pleasures." 
 
 The prince shook his head. 
 
 ** I am not of the people," he said, " and I have no 
 sympathy with them. I detest the bourgeoisie of every 
 country in the world my own more particularly." 
 
 " If you only knew how strangely that sounds ! " she 
 murmured. 
 
 "Does it?" he answered. "You should read my 
 family history, read of the men and women of my race 
 who were butchered at the hands of that drunken, lust- 
 ful mob whom lying historians have glorified. I am one 
 of those who do not forget injuries. My estates are ad- 
 ministered more severely than any others in France. 
 No penny of my money has ever been spent in charity. 
 I neither forget nor forgive." 
 
 She laughed a little nervously. 
 
 " What an unsympathetic person you can be, 
 Eugene ! " 
 
 " And for that very reason," he replied, " I can be 
 sympathetic. Because I hate some people, I have the 
 power of loving others. Because it pleases me to deal 
 severely with my enemies, it gives me joy to deal gen- 
 erously with my friends. That is my conception of life. 
 May I wish you a pleasant evening? " 
 
 " You are going now ? " she asked, a little sur- 
 prised. 
 
 He smiled faintly as he raised her fingers to his lips.
 
 102 THE HILLMAN 
 
 She had made a little movement toward him, but he took 
 no advantage of it. 
 
 " I am going now." 
 
 " When shall I see you again? " she inquired, as she 
 came back from ringing the bell. 
 
 " A telephone-message from your maid, a line written 
 with your own fingers," he said, " will bring me to you 
 within a few minutes. If I hear nothing, I may come 
 uninvited, but it will be when the fancy takes me. Once 
 more, Louise, a pleasant evening ! " 
 
 He passed out of the door, which the parlor maid 
 was holding open for him. Crossing to the window, 
 Louise watched him leave the house and enter his wait- 
 ing automobile. He gave no sign of haste or disap- 
 pointment. He lit another cigarette deliberately upon 
 the pavement and gave his orders to the chauffeur with 
 some care. 
 
 As the car drove off without his having once glanced 
 up at the window, she shivered a little. There was a 
 silence which, it seemed to her, could be more minatory 
 even than accusation.
 
 XI 
 
 The little room was gaudily decorated and redolent 
 with the lingering odors of many dinners. Yet Louise, 
 who had dined on the preceding evening at the Ritz and 
 been bored, whose taste in food and environment was al- 
 most hypercritical, was perfectly happy. She found 
 the cuisine and the Chianti excellent. 
 
 " We are outstaying every one else," she declared ; 
 ** and I don't even mind their awful legacy of tobacco- 
 smoke. Do you see that the waiter has brought you the 
 bill, Mr. Strangewey? Prepare for a shock. It is for- 
 tunate that you are a millionaire ! " 
 
 John laughed as he paid the bill and ludicrously over- 
 tipped the waiter. 
 
 " London must be a paradise to the poor man ! " he 
 exclaimed. " I have never dined better." 
 
 " Don't overdo it," Sophy begged. 
 
 " I can only judge by results," John insisted. *' I 
 have dined, and I am happy ; therefore, the dinner must 
 have been good." 
 
 " You are so convincing ! " Sophy murmured. 
 " There is such a finality about your statements that I 
 would not venture to dispute them. But remember that 
 your future entertainment is in the hands of two women, 
 one of whom is a deserving but struggling young artist 
 without the means of gratifying her expensive tastes. 
 There are heaps of places we are going to take you to 
 which even Louise pretends she cannot afford. It is so 
 fortunate, Mr. Strangewey, that you are rich ! "
 
 104 THE HILLMAN 
 
 **I believe you would be just as nice to me if I 
 weren't," John ventured. 
 
 " I am so susceptible ! " Sophy sighed, looking into 
 her empty coffee-cup ; " much more susceptible than 
 Louise." 
 
 " I won't have Mr. Strangewey spoiled," Louise put 
 in. " And don't build too much upon his being content 
 with us as entertainers-in-chief. Remember the half- 
 penny papers. In a few days he will be interviewed 
 * Millionaire Farmer Come to London to Spend His 
 Fortune.' He will become famous. He will buy a 
 green morocco engagement-book, and perhaps employ a 
 secretary. We shall probably have to ask ourselves to 
 luncheon three weeks ahead." 
 
 " I feel these things coming," John declared. 
 
 " My children," said Louise, rising, " we must re- 
 member that we are going to the Palace. It is quite 
 time we started." 
 
 They made their way down two flights of narrow 
 stairs into the street. The commissionnaire raised his 
 whistle to his lips, but Louise stopped him. 
 
 " We will walk," she suggested. *' This way, Mr. 
 Strangewey ! " 
 
 They passed down the long, narrow street, with its 
 dingy foreign cafes and shops scarcely one of which 
 seemed to be English. The people who thronged the 
 pavements were of a new race to John, swarthy, a little 
 furtive, a class of foreigner seldom seen except in alien 
 lands. Men and women in all stages of dishabille were 
 leaning out of the windows or standing on the door- 
 steps. The girls whom they met occasionally young 
 women of all ages, walking arm in arm, with shawls on 
 their heads in place of hats laughed openly in John's 
 face.
 
 THE HILLMAN 105 
 
 " Conquests everywhere he goes ! " Louise sighed. 
 " We shall never keep him, Sophy ! " 
 
 " We have him for this evening, at any rate," Sophy 
 replied contentedly ; " and he hasn't spent all his for- 
 tune yet. I am not at all sure that I shall not hint at 
 supper when we come out of the Palace." 
 
 " No hint will be necessary," John promised. ** I feel 
 the gnawings of hunger already." 
 
 " A millionaire's first night in London ! " Sophy ex- 
 claimed. " I think I shall write it up for the Daily 
 Mail." 
 
 "A pity he fell into bad hands so quickly," Louise 
 laughed. " Here we are ! Stalls, please, Mr. Million- 
 aire. I wouldn't be seen to-night in the seats of the 
 mighty." 
 
 John risked a reproof, however, and was fortunate 
 enough to find a disengaged box. 
 
 " The tone of the evening," Louise grumbled, as she 
 settled herself down comfortably, " is lost. This is the 
 most expensive box in the place." 
 
 " You could restore it by eating an orange," Sophy 
 suggested. 
 
 " Or even chocolates," John ventured, sweeping most 
 of the contents of an attendant's tray onto the ledge of 
 the box. 
 
 " After this," Sophy declared, falling upon them, 
 ^* supper will be a farce." 
 
 " Make you thirsty," John reminded her. 
 
 They devoted their attention to the show, Louise and 
 Sophy at first with only a moderate amount of interest, 
 John with the real enthusiasm of one to whom every- 
 thing is new. His laughter was so hearty, his apprecia- 
 tion so sincere, that his companions found it infectious, 
 and began to applaud everything.
 
 106 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " What children we are ! " Louise exclaimed. 
 " Fancy shrieking with laughter at a ventriloquist whom 
 I have seen at every music-hall I have been to during the 
 last five or six years ! " 
 
 " He was wonderfully clever, all the same," John in- 
 sisted. 
 
 " The bioscope," Louise decided firmly, " I refuse to 
 have anything to do with. You have had all the enter- 
 tainment you are going to have this evening, Mr. Coun- 
 tryman." 
 
 " Now for supper, then," he proposed. 
 
 Sophy sighed as she collected the half-empty choco- 
 late-boxes. 
 
 " What a pity I've eaten so many ! They'd have 
 saved me a luncheon to-morrow." 
 
 " Greedy child," Louise laughed, " sighing for want 
 of an appetite ! I think we'll insist upon a taxi this 
 time. I don't like overcrowded streets. Where shall 
 we take him to, Sophy? You know the supper places 
 better than I do." 
 
 " Luigi's," Sophy declared firmly. " The only place 
 im London." 
 
 They drove toward the Strand. John looked around 
 him with interest as they entered the restaurant. 
 
 " I've been here before," he said, as they passed 
 through the doors. 
 
 " Explain yourself at once," Louise insisted. 
 
 " It was eight years ago, when I was at Oxford," he 
 told them. " We were here on the boat-race night. I 
 remember," he added reminiscently, " that some of us 
 were turned out. Then we went on to " 
 
 " Stop ! " Louise interrupted sternly. " I am horri- 
 fied! The one thing I did not suspect you of, Mr. 
 Strangewey, was a past."
 
 THE HILLMAN 107 
 
 " Well, it isn't a very lurid one," he assured them. 
 " That was very nearly the only evening about town 
 I have ever been guilty of." 
 
 Luigi, who had come forward to welcome Sophy, es- 
 corted them to one of the best tables. 
 
 " You must be very nice to this gentleman, Luigi," 
 she said. " He is a very great friend of mine, just ar- 
 rived in London. He has come up on purpose to see 
 me, and we shall probably decide to make this our favor- 
 ite restaurant." 
 
 " I shall be vairy happy," Luigi declared, with a bow. 
 
 " I am beginning to regret, Mr. Strangewey, that I 
 ever introduced you to Sophy," Louise remarked, as she 
 sank back into her chair. " You won't believe that all 
 my friends are as frivolous as this, will you ? " 
 
 " They aren't," Sophy proclaimed confidently. " I 
 am the one person who succeeds in keeping Louise with 
 her feet upon the earth. She has never had supper here 
 before. Dry biscuits, hot milk, and a volume of poems 
 are her relaxation after the theater. She takes herself 
 too seriously." 
 
 " I wonder if I do ! " Louise murmured, as she helped 
 herself to caviar. 
 
 She was suddenly pensive. Her eyes seemed to be 
 looking out of the restaurant. Sophy was exchanging 
 amenities with a little party of friends at the next table. 
 
 " One must sometimes be serious," John remarked, 
 " or life would have no poise at all." 
 
 " I have a friend who scolds me," she confided. 
 '* Sometimes he almost loses patience with me. He de- 
 clares that my attitude toward life is too analytical. 
 When happiness comes my way, I shrink back. I keep 
 my emotions in the background, while my brain works, 
 dissecting, wondering, speculating. Perhaps what he
 
 io8 THE HILLMAN 
 
 says is true. I believe that if one gets into the habit 
 of analyzing too much, one loses all elasticity of emo- 
 tion, the capacity to recognize and embrace the great 
 things when they come." 
 
 " 1 think you have been right," John declared ear- 
 nestly. " If the great things come as they should 
 come, they are overwhelming, they will carry you off 
 your feet. You will forget to speculate and to analyze. 
 Therefore, I think you have been wise and right to wait. 
 You have run no risk of having to put up with the les- 
 ser things.'* 
 
 She leaned toward him across the rose-shaded table. 
 For those few seconds they seemed to have been brought 
 into a wonderfully intimate communion of thought. A 
 wave of her hair almost touched his forehead. His 
 hand boldly rested upon her fingers. 
 
 " You talk," she whispered, " as if we were back upon 
 your hilltops once more ! " 
 
 He turned his head toward the little orchestra, which 
 was playing a low and tremulous waltz tune. 
 
 " I want to believe," he said, " that you can listen to 
 the music here and yet live upon the hilltops." 
 
 " You believe that it is possible ? " 
 
 " I do indeed," he assured her. " Although my heart 
 was almost sick with loneliness, I do not think that I 
 should be here if I did not believe it. I have not come 
 for anything else, for any lesser things, but to find " 
 
 For once his courage failed him. For once, too, he 
 failed to understand her expression. She had drawn 
 back a little, her lips were quivering. Sophy broke 
 suddenly in upon that moment of suspended speech. 
 
 " I knew how it would be ! " she exclaimed. " I leave 
 you both alone for less than a minute, and there you sit, 
 as grave as two owls. I ask you, now, is this the place
 
 THE HILLMAN 109 
 
 to wander off into the clouds? When two people sit 
 looking at each other as you were doing a minute ago, 
 here in Luigi's, at midnight, with champagne in their 
 glasses, and a supper, ordered regardless of expense, on 
 the table before them, they are either without the least 
 sense of the fitness of things, or else " 
 
 " Or else what? " Louise asked. 
 
 " Or else they are head over heels in love with each 
 other!" Sophy concluded. 
 
 " Perhaps the child is right," Louise assented toler- 
 antly, taking a peach from the basket by her side. 
 " Evidently it is our duty to abandon ourselves to the 
 frivolity of the moment. What shall we do to bring 
 ourselves into accord with it? Everybody seems to be 
 behaving most disgracefully. Do you think it would 
 contribute to the gaiety of the evening if I were to join 
 in the chorus of 'You Made Me Love You,' and Mr. 
 Strangewey were to imitate the young gentleman at the 
 next table and throw a roll, say, at that portly old 
 gentleman with the highly polished shirt-front ? " 
 
 " There is no need to go to extremes," Sophy pro- 
 tested. " Besides, we should get into trouble. The 
 portly old gentleman happens to be one of the di- 
 rectors." 
 
 " Then we will just talk nonsense," Louise suggested. 
 
 " I am not very good at it," John sighed ; " and there 
 Is so much I want to say that isn't nonsense." 
 
 " You ought to be thankful all your life that you have 
 met me and that I am disposed to take an interest in 
 you," Sophy remarked, as she moved her chair a little 
 nearer to John's. "I am quite sure that in a very 
 short time you would have become well, almost a prig. 
 Providence has selected me to work out your salvation.'* 
 
 " Providence has been very kind, then," John told her..
 
 no THE HILLMAN 
 
 " I hope you mean it," she returned. " You ought 
 to, if you only understood the importance of light-heart- 
 edness." 
 
 The lights were lowered a few minutes later, and John 
 paid the bill. 
 
 " We've enjoyed our supper," Louise whispered, as 
 they passed down the room. *' The whole evening has 
 been delightful ! " 
 
 " May I drive you home alone ? " he asked bluntly. 
 
 "I am afraid we can't desert Sophy," she replied, 
 avoiding his eyes. " She nearly always goes home with 
 me. You see, although she seems quite a frivolous lit- 
 tle person, she is really very useful to me keeps my 
 accounts, and all that sort of thing." 
 
 "And does her best," Sophy joined in, " to protect 
 you against your ruinously extravagant habits ! " 
 
 Louise laughed. They were standing in the little 
 hall, and the commissionnaire was blowing his whistle 
 for a taxi. 
 
 " I won't be scolded to-night," she declared. " Come, 
 you shall both of you drive home with me, and then Mr. 
 Strangewey can drop you at your rooms on his way 
 back." 
 
 Sophy made a little grimace and glanced up at John 
 anxiously. He was looking very big and very grim. 
 
 " Shall you mind that ? " she asked. 
 
 A slight plaintiveness in her tone dispelled his first 
 disappointment. After all, it was Louise's decision. 
 
 " I will try to bear it cheerfully," he promised, smil- 
 ing, as he handed them into the cab.
 
 XII 
 
 As they drove from Luigi's to Knightsbridge, Louise 
 leaned back in her corner. Although her eyes were 
 only half closed, there was an air of aloofness about her, 
 an obvious lack of desire for conversation, which the 
 others found themselves instinctively respecting. Even 
 Sophy's light-hearted chatter seemed to have deserted 
 her, somewhat to John's relief. 
 
 He sat back in his place, his eyes fixed upon Louise. 
 He was so anxious to understand her in all her moods 
 and vagaries. He was forced to admit to himself that 
 she had deliberately chosen not to take any portion of 
 that drive home alone with him. And yet, as he looked 
 back through the evening, he told himself that he was 
 satisfied. He declined to feel even a shadow of discour- 
 agement. 
 
 After a time he withdrew his eyes from her face and 
 looked out upon the human panorama through which 
 they were passing. 
 
 They were in the very vortex of London's midnight 
 traffic. The night was warm for the time of year, and 
 about Leicester Square and beyond the pavements were 
 crowded with pedestrians, the women lightly and gaily 
 clad, flitting, notwithstanding some sinister note about 
 their movements, like butterflies or bright-hued moths 
 along the pavements and across the streets. The pro- 
 cession of taxicabs and automobiles, each with its human
 
 112 THE HILLMAN 
 
 freight of men and women in evening dress on their way 
 home after an evening's pleasure, seemed endless. 
 
 Presently Sophy began to talk, and Louise, too, 
 housed herself. 
 
 " I am only just beginning to realize," the latter said, 
 *' that you are actually in London." 
 
 " When I leave you," he replied, " I, too, shall find it 
 hard to believe that we have actually met again and 
 talked. There seems to be so much that I have to say," 
 he added, looking at her closely, " and I have said noth- 
 ing." 
 
 " There is plenty of time," she told him, and once 
 more the signs of that slight nervousness were apparent 
 in her manner. " There are weeks and months ahead 
 of us." 
 
 " When shall I see you again ? " he asked. 
 
 "Whenever you like. There are no rehearsals for 
 a day or two. Ring me up on the telephone you will 
 find my number in the book or come and lunch with 
 me to-morrow, if you like." 
 
 "Thank you," he answered; "that is just what I 
 should like. At what time?" 
 
 " Half past one. I will not ask either of you to come 
 in now. You can come down to-morrow morning and 
 get the books, Sophy. I think I am tired tired," she 
 added, with a curious little note of self-pity in her tone. 
 " I am very glad to have seen you again, Mr. Strange- 
 wey," she said, lifting her eyes to his. " Good night ! " 
 
 He helped her out, rang the bell, and watched her 
 vanish through the swiftly opened door. Then he 
 stepped back into the taxicab. Sophy retreated into 
 the corner to make room for him. 
 
 " You are going to take me home, are you not? " she 
 asked.
 
 THE HILLMAN 113 
 
 " Of course," he replied, his eyes still fixed with a 
 shade of regret upon the closed door of Louise's little 
 house. " No. 10 Southampton Street," he told the 
 driver. 
 
 They turned round and spun once more into the net- 
 work of moving vehicles and streaming pedestrians. 
 John was silent, and his companion, for a little while, 
 humored him. Soon, however, she touched him on the 
 arm. 
 
 " This is still your first night in London," she re- 
 minded him, " and there is to-morrow. You are going 
 to lunch with her to-morrow. Won't you talk to me, 
 please ? " 
 
 He shut the door upon a crowd of disturbing 
 thoughts and fantastic imaginings, and smiled back at 
 her. Her fingers remained upon his arm. A queer 
 gravity had come into her dainty little face. 
 
 " Are you really in love with Louise ? " she inquired, 
 with something of his own directness. 
 
 He answered her with perfect seriousness. 
 
 " I believe so," he admitted, " but I should not like 
 to say that I am absolutely certain. I have come here 
 to find out." 
 
 Sophy suddenly rocked with laughter. 
 
 " You are the dearest, queerest madman I have ever 
 met ! " she exclaimed, holding tightly to his arm. 
 " You sit there with a face as long as a fiddle, wondering 
 whether you are in love with a girl or not ! Well, I am 
 not going to ask you anything more. Tell me, are you 
 tired?" 
 
 " Not a bit," he declared. " I never had such a rip- 
 ping evening in my life." 
 
 She held his arm a little tighter. She was the old 
 Sophy again, full of life and gaiety.
 
 ii4 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " Let's go to the Aldwych," she suggested, " and see 
 the dancing. We can just have something to drink. 
 We needn't have any more supper." 
 
 " Rather ! " he assented readily. " But where is it, 
 and what is it ? " 
 
 " Just a supper club," she told him. " Tell the man 
 No. 19 Kean Street. What fun ! I haven't been there 
 for weeks." 
 
 " What about my clothes ? " he asked. 
 
 " You'll be all right," she assured him. " You're 
 quite a nice-looking person, and the manager is a friend 
 of mine." 
 
 The cab stopped a few minutes later outside what 
 seemed to be a private house except for the presence of 
 a commissionnaire upon the pavement. The door was 
 opened at once, and John was relieved of his hat and 
 stick by a cloak-room attendant. Sophy wrote his 
 name in a book, and they were ushered by the manager, 
 who had come forward to greet them, into a long room, 
 brilliantly lit, and filled, except in the center, with sup- 
 per-tables. 
 
 They selected one near the wall and close to the open 
 space in which, at the present moment, a man and a 
 woman were dancing. The floor was of hardwood, and 
 there was a little raised platform for the orchestra. 
 John looked around him wonderingly. The popping 
 of champagne corks was almost incessant. A slightly 
 voluptuous atmosphere of cigarette-smoke, mingled 
 with the perfumes shaken from the clothes and hair 
 of the women, several more of whom were now danc- 
 ing, hung about the place. A girl in fancy dress 
 was passing a great basket of flowers from table to 
 table. 
 
 Sophy sat with her head resting upon her hands and
 
 THE HILLMAN 115 
 
 her face very close to her companion's, keeping time 
 with her feet to the music. 
 
 "Isn't this rather nice?" she whispered. "Do you 
 like being here with me, Mr. John Strangewey? " 
 
 " Of course I do," he answered heartily. " Is this a 
 restaurant? " 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " No, it's a club. We can sit here all night, if you 
 like." 
 
 "Can I join? "he asked. 
 
 She laughed as she bent for a form and made him fill 
 it in. 
 
 " Tell me," he begged, as he looked around him, " who 
 are these girls? They look so pretty and well dressed, 
 and yet so amazingly young to be out at this time of 
 night." 
 
 " Mostly actresses," she replied, " and musical-com- 
 edy girls. I was in musical comedy myself before Lou- 
 ise rescued me." 
 
 "Did you like it?" 
 
 " I liked it all right," she admitted, " but I left it be- 
 cause I wasn't doing any good. I can dance pretty 
 well, but I have no voice, so there didn't seem to be any 
 chance of my getting out of the chorus ; and one can't 
 even pretend to live on the salary they pay you, unless 
 one has a part." 
 
 " But these girls who are here to-night ? " 
 
 " They are with their friends, of course," she told 
 him. " I suppose, if it hadn't been for Louise, I should 
 have been here, too with a friend." 
 
 " I should like to see you dance," he remarked, in a 
 hurry to change the conversation. 
 
 " I'll dance to you some day in your rooms, if you 
 like," she promised. " Or would you like me to dance
 
 n6 THE HILLMAN 
 
 here? There is a man opposite who wants me to. 
 Would you rather I didn't? I want to do just which 
 would please you most." 
 
 " Dance, by all means," he insisted. " I should like 
 to watch you." 
 
 She nodded, and a minute or two later she had joined 
 the small crowd in the center of the room, clasped in 
 the arms of a very immaculate young man who had risen 
 and bowed to her from a table opposite. John leaned 
 back in his place and watched her admiringly. Her 
 feet scarcely touched the ground. She never once 
 glanced at or spoke to her partner, but every time she 
 passed the corner where John was sitting, she looked at 
 him and smiled. 
 
 He, for his part, watched her no longer with pleas- 
 ant interest, but with almost fascinated eyes. The 
 spirit of the place was creeping into his blood. His 
 long years of seclusion seemed like a spell of time lying 
 curiously far away, a crude period, mislived in an at- 
 mosphere which, notwithstanding its austere sweetness, 
 took no account of the human cry. He refilled his glass 
 with champagne and deliberately drank its contents. 
 It was splendid to feel so young and strong, to feel the 
 wine in his veins, his pulse and his heart moving to this 
 new measure ! 
 
 His eyes grew brighter, and he smiled back at Sophy. 
 She suddenly released her hold upon her partner and 
 stretched out her arms to him. Her body swayed back- 
 ward a little. She waved her hands with a gesture in- 
 finitely graceful, subtly alluring. Her lips were parted 
 with a smile almost of triumph as she once more rested 
 her hand upon her partner's shoulder. 
 
 " Who is your escort this evening? " the latter asked 
 feer, speaking almost for the first time.
 
 THE HILLMAN 117 
 
 " You would not know him," she replied. " He is a 
 Mr. John Strangewey, and he comes from Cumber- 
 land." 
 
 " Just happens that I do know him," the young man 
 remarked. " Thought I'd seen his face somewhere. 
 Used to be up at the varsity with him. We once played 
 rackets together. Hasn't he come into a pile just 
 lately?" 
 
 " An uncle in Australia left him a fortune." 
 
 " I'll speak to him presently," the young man de- 
 cided. " Always make a point of being civil to any- 
 body with lots of oof!" 
 
 " I expect he'll be glad to meet you again," Sophy re- 
 marked. " He doesn't know a soul in town." 
 
 The dance was finished. They returned together to 
 where John was sitting, and the young man held out a 
 weary hand. 
 
 " Amerton, you know, of Magdalen," he said. 
 " You're Strangewey, aren't you ? " 
 
 " Lord Amerton, of course ! " John exclaimed. '* I 
 thought your face was familiar. Why, we played in 
 the rackets doubles together ! " 
 
 " And won 'em, thanks to you," Amerton replied. 
 " Are you up for long? " 
 
 " I am not quite sure," John told him. " I only ar- 
 rived last night." 
 
 " Look me up some time, if you've nothing better to 
 do," the young man suggested. " Where are you hang- 
 ing out ? " 
 
 " The Milan." 
 
 " I am at the Albany. So-long ! Must get back to 
 my little lady." 
 
 He bowed to Sophy and departed. She sank a little 
 breathlessly into her chair and laid her hand on John's
 
 n8 THE HILLMAN 
 
 arm. Her cheeks were flushed, her bosom was rising 
 and falling quickly. 
 
 "J[ am out of breath," she said, her head thrown 
 back, perilously near to John's shoulder. " Lord Am- 
 erton dances so well. Give me some champagne ! " 
 
 " And you you dance divinely," he told her, as he 
 filled her glass. 
 
 " If we were alone," she whispered, " I should want 
 you to kiss me ! " 
 
 The stem of the wine-glass in John's fingers snapped 
 suddenly, and the wine trickled down to the floor. A 
 passing waiter hurried up with a napkin, and a fresh 
 glass was brought. The affair was scarcely noticed, 
 but John remained disturbed and a little pale. 
 
 " Have you cut your hand? " Sophy asked anx- 
 iously. 
 
 " Not at all," he assured her. " How hot it is here ! 
 Do you mind if we go? " 
 
 "Go?" she exclaimed disconsolately. "I thought 
 you were enjoying yourself so much ! " 
 
 " So I am," he answered, " but I don't quite under- 
 stand " 
 
 He paused. 
 
 " Understand what ? " she demanded. 
 
 " Myself, if you must know." 
 
 She set down the glass which she had been in the act 
 of raising to her lips. 
 
 " How queer you are ! " she murmured. " Listen. 
 You haven't got a wife or anything up in Cumberland, 
 have you ? " 
 
 " You know I haven't," he answered. 
 
 " You're not engaged to be married, you have no ties, 
 you came up here perfectly free, you haven't even said 
 anything yet to Louise ? "
 
 THE HILLMAN ug 
 
 " Of course not." 
 
 " Well, then " she began. 
 
 Her words were so softly spoken that they seemed 
 to melt away. She leaned forward to look in his face. 
 
 " Sophy," he begged, with sudden and almost pas- 
 sionate earnestness, " be kind to me, please ! I am just 
 a simple, stupid countryman, who feels as if he had lost 
 his way. I have lived a solitary sort of life an un- 
 natural one, you would say * and I've been brought up 
 with some old-fashioned ideas. I know they are old- 
 fashioned, but I can't throw them overboard all at once. 
 I have kept away from this sort of thing. I didn't 
 think it would ever attract me I suppose because I 
 didn't believe it could be made so attractive. I have 
 suddenly found out that it does ! " 
 
 " What are you going to do ? " she whispered. 
 
 " There is only one thing for me to do," he answered. 
 w Until I know what I have come to London to learn, I 
 shall fight against it." 
 
 " You mean about Louise ? " 
 
 " I mean about Louise," he said gravely. 
 
 Sophy came still closer to him. Her voice was as 
 soft as the lightest, finest note of music, trembling a lit- 
 tle with that one thread of passion. She seemed so 
 dainty, so quiet and sweet, that for a moment he found 
 himself able to imagine that it was all a dream; that 
 hers was just one of those fairy, disquieting voices that 
 floated about on the summer breeze and rippled along 
 the valleys and hillsides of his Cumberland home. Then, 
 swift as the fancy itself, came the warm touch of her 
 hand upon his, the lure of her voice once more, with 
 its trembling cadence. 
 
 "Why are you so foolish?" she murmured. "Lou- 
 ise is very wonderful in her place, but she is not what
 
 120 THE HILLMAN 
 
 you want in life. Has it never occurred to you that 
 you may be too late ? " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " he demanded. 
 
 " I believe what the world believes, what some day I 
 think she will admit to herself that she cares for the 
 Prince of Seyre." 
 
 " Has she ever told you so ? " 
 
 "Louise never speaks of these things to any living 
 soul. I am only telling you what I think. I am try- 
 ing to save you pain trying for my own sake as well 
 as yours." 
 
 He paid his bill and stooped to help her with her 
 cloak. Her heart sank, her lips quivered a little. It 
 seemed to her that he had passed to a great distance. 
 
 " Very soon," John said, " I shall ask Louise to tell 
 me the truth. I think that I shall ask her, if I can, to- 
 morrow ! "
 
 XIII 
 
 John's first caller at the Milan was, in a way, a sur- 
 prise to him. He was sitting smoking an after-break- 
 fast pipe on the following morning, and gazing at the 
 telephone directory, when his bell rang. He opened the 
 door to find the Prince of Seyre standing outside. 
 
 " I pay you a very early visit, I fear," the latter be- 
 gan. 
 
 " Not at all," John replied, taking the pipe from his 
 mouth and throwing open the door. " It is very good 
 of you to come and see me." 
 
 The prince followed John into the little sitting room. 
 He was dressed, as usual, with scrupulous care. His 
 white linen gaiters were immaculate, his trousers were 
 perfectly creased, the hang of his coat had engaged the 
 care of an artist. His tie was of a deep shade of violet, 
 fastened with a wonderful pearl, and his fingers were 
 perhaps a trifle overmanicured. He wore a bunch of 
 Parma violets in his buttonhole, and he carried with him 
 a very faint but unusual perfume, which seemed to John 
 like the odor of delicate green tea. It was just these 
 details, and the slowness of his speech, which alone ac- 
 centuated his foreign origin. 
 
 " It occurred to me," he said, as he seated himself in 
 an easy chair, " that if you are really intending to 
 make this experiment in town life of which Miss Maurel 
 spoke, I might be of some assistance to you. There are
 
 122 THE HILLMAN 
 
 certain matters, quite unimportant in themselves, con* 
 cerning which a little advice in the beginning may save 
 you trouble." 
 
 " Very good of you, I am sure," John repeated. 
 " To tell you the truth, I was just looking through the 
 telephone directory to see if I could come across the 
 name of a tailor I used to have some things from." 
 
 " If it pleases you to place yourself in my hands," 
 the prince suggested, " I will introduce you to my own 
 tradespeople. I have made the selection with some 
 care." 
 
 " That will suit me admirably," John declared. " If 
 you will just give me the addresses I couldn't think 
 of taking up your time." 
 
 " I have, fortunately, an idle morning," the prince 
 said, " and it is entirely at your disposal. At half past 
 one I believe we are both lunching with Miss Maurel." 
 
 John was conscious of a momentary sense of annoy- 
 ance. His tete-a-tete with Louise seemed farther off 
 than ever. At the prince's suggestion, however, he 
 fetched his hat and gloves and entered the former's au- 
 tomobile, which was waiting below. 
 
 " Miss Maurel ! " the prince remarked, as they glided 
 off westward, " is, I believe, inviting a few friends to 
 meet you. If you would feel more comfortable in town 
 clothes, I think the tailor to whom I am taking you will 
 be able to arrange that. He makes special prepara- 
 tions for such emergencies." 
 
 " I will do what you think best," John agreed. 
 
 They spent the morning in the neighborhood of Bond 
 Street, and John laid the foundations of a wardrobe 
 more extensive than any he had ever dreamed of pos- 
 sessing. At half past one they were shown into Lou- 
 ise's little dressing room. There were three or four
 
 THE HILLMAN 123 
 
 men already present, standing around their hostess and 
 sipping some faint yellow cordial from long Venetian 
 glasses. 
 
 Louise came forward to meet them, and made a little 
 grimace as she remarked the change in John's appear- 
 ance. 
 
 " Honestly, I don't know you, and I don't believe I 
 like you at all ! " she exclaimed. " How dare you trans- 
 form yourself into a tailor's dummy in this fashion? " 
 
 " It was entirely out of respect to you," John said. 
 
 " In fact," the prince added, " we considered that we 
 had achieved rather a success." 
 
 " I suppose I must look upon your effort as a com- 
 pliment," Louise sighed, " but it seems queer to lose 
 even so much of you. Shall you take up our manners 
 and our habits, Mr. Strangewey, as easily as you wear 
 our clothes ? " 
 
 " That I cannot promise," he replied. 
 
 *' The brain should adapt itself at least as readily as 
 the body," the prince remarked. 
 
 M. Graillot, who was one of the three men present, 
 turned around. 
 
 " Who is talking platitudes ? " he (demanded. " I 
 write plays, and that is my monopoly. Ah, it is the 
 prince, I see! And our young friend who interrupted 
 us at rehearsal yesterday." 
 
 " And whom I am anxious to have you meet again," 
 Louise intervened. " You remember his name, perhaps 
 Mr. John Strangewey." 
 
 Graillot held out his left hand to the prince and his 
 right to John. 
 
 '* Mr. Strangewey," he said, " I congratulate you ! 
 Any person who has the good fortune to interest Miss 
 Maurel is to be congratulated. .Yet must I look at you
 
 i2 4 THE HILLMAN 
 
 and feel myself puzzled. You are not an artist no ? 
 You do not paint or write? " 
 
 John shook his head. 
 
 " Mr. Strangewey's claim to distinction is that he is 
 just an ordinary man," Louise observed. " Such a re- 
 lief, you know, after all you clever people! And that 
 reminds me, Miles," she added, turning to the actor, " I 
 asked you here, too, especially to meet Mr. Strangewey 
 again. Mr. Faraday is one of the most dangerous 
 guides in London a young man could have. He knows 
 everybody and everything unknowable and yet worth 
 knowing. I present him to you as a hero. He is going 
 to make love to me three hours a night for very many 
 nights, we hope." 
 
 John shook hands with everybody and sipped the con- 
 tents of the glass which had been handed to him. Then 
 a butler opened the door and announced luncheon* 
 Louise offered her hand to the prince, who stepped back. 
 
 " It shall be the privilege of the stranger within our 
 gates," he decided. 
 
 Louise turned to John with a little smile. 
 
 " Let me show you, then, the way to my dining room. 
 I ought to apologize for not asking some women to meet 
 you. I tried two on the telephone, but they were en- 
 
 " I will restore the balance," the prince promised, 
 turning from the contemplation of one of the prints 
 hanging in the hall. " I am giving a supper party to- 
 night for Mr. Strangewey, and I will promise him a pre- 
 ponderance of your charming sex." 
 
 " Am I invited ? " Louise inquired. 
 
 The prince shook his head. 
 
 " Alas, no ! " 
 
 They passed into a small dining room, and here again
 
 THE HILLMAN 125 
 
 John noticed that an absolute simplicity was para- 
 mount. The carpet was of some dark, almost indis- 
 tinguishable color. The walls were white, hung with 
 three or four French etchings in black reed frames. 
 At one end a curved window looked out upon a vista of 
 green trees and shrubs, and the recess was completely 
 filled in with what appeared to be almost a grotto of 
 flowers. The round table, covered with an exquisitely 
 fine cloth, was very simply laid. There was a little 
 glass of the finest quality, and a very little silver. For 
 flowers there was only one bowl, a brilliant patch of 
 some scarlet exotic, in the center. 
 
 " A supper party to which I am not invited," said 
 Louise, as she took her place at the table and motioned 
 John to a seat by her side, " fills me with curiosity. 
 Who are to be your guests, prince? " 
 
 " Calavera and her sprites," the prince announced. 
 
 Louise paused for a moment in the act of helping her- 
 self to hors d'oeuvres. She glanced toward the prince. 
 He was busy studying the- menu through his eye- 
 glass. 
 
 " By her sprites you mean " 
 
 " The young ladies of her wonderful ballet," the 
 prince replied. " I am also dipping into musical com- 
 edy for a few of my guests. Calavera, however, is to 
 be the piece de resistance" 
 
 The prince dropped his eye-glass and glanced toward 
 his hostess. For a moment their eyes met. Louise's 
 lips were faintly curled. It was almost as if a chal- 
 lenge had passed between them. 
 
 " Mr. Strangewey," she said, turning to John, " let 
 me warn you. You are to meet to-night a woman for 
 whom kings are reported to sigh in vain, at whose feet 
 the jeunesse doree of the world pours out its riches.
 
 126 THE HILLMAN 
 
 Is it kind of the prince, I wonder, to try and seal your 
 fate so soon ? " 
 
 John laughed easily. He met the challenge in her 
 eyes and answered it. 
 
 " If you are talking of the great Calavera," he said, 
 *' she will be far too wonderful a lady to take any notice 
 of a yokel like myself. And besides " 
 
 " Besides ? " the prince intervened. 
 
 " I have only seen her photographs and read of her," 
 'John remarked, " but I don't think she would attract 
 me very much." 
 
 They all laughed. Graillot leaned across the table. 
 
 " My young friend," he exclaimed, " pray to your 
 presiding genius, the presiding genius that won for you 
 the friendship of our hostess, that Calavera never hears 
 that speech, or within a week you will be at her chariot- 
 wheels ! I have seen many women and loved many, but 
 there are none like Calavera. In her way she is the 
 greatest artist that ever breathed. As for her beauty, 
 wait till you see her ! She has a body which makes me 
 close my eyes and dream of Greece; eyes such as one 
 seldom sees save in a few parts of southern Spain ; and 
 as for her smile well, if I go on I shall begin to tell 
 stories of her victims and neglect my lunch." 
 
 The conversation drifted away to reminiscences of 
 other great dancers. Louise, under its cover, devoted 
 her attention to her guest, 
 
 " First of all," she asked, " tell me how you like my 
 little friend?" 
 
 " I think she is charming," John answered without 
 hesitation. " We went to a supper club last night and 
 stayed there till about half past three." 
 " A supper club ? " 
 John nodded.
 
 THE HILLMAN 1233 
 
 ** I have forgotten the name of the place, but they 
 made me a member. It was great fun. We had some; 
 more champagne, and Sophy danced. I found a young; 
 man there whom I used to know." 
 
 " Really," said Louise, " I am not sure that I ap- 
 prove of this! A supper club with Sophy until half 
 past three in the morning ! ** 
 
 He looked at her quickly. 
 
 "You don't mind?" 
 
 " My dear man, why should I mind ? " she returned. 
 " What concern is it of mine if you and Sophy care 
 to amuse each other? It is exactly what I hoped 
 for." 
 
 " That's all right, then," John declared, with a sigh 
 of relief. " Do you know," he went on, lowering his 
 voice, " that I am just a little disappointed about to- 
 day?" 
 
 "Disappointed? After I have taken the trouble to 
 give a luncheon party for you ? " 
 
 " I should have thought it a greater compliment, and 
 liked it better, if you had asked me to lunch with you 
 alone," he said. 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " It would have been a wasted opportunity. You 
 have come up to London with a purpose. You have an 
 experiment to make, an experiment in living. All these 
 men can help you." 
 
 " The greater part of my experiment," he pointed 
 out, " needs the help of only one person, and that per- 
 son is you." 
 
 She moved a little uneasily in her chair. It might 
 have been his fancy, but he imagined that she glanced 
 under her eyelids toward the Prince of Seyre. The 
 prince, however, had turned almost ostentatiously away
 
 128 THE HILLMAN 
 
 from her. He was leaning across the table, talking to 
 Faraday. 
 
 " You have not lost your gift of plain speech," she 
 observed. 
 
 " I hope I never shall," he declared. " It seems to 
 me to be the simplest and the best plan, after all, to say 
 what you feel and to ask for what you want." 
 
 " So delightful in Cumberland and Utopia," she 
 sighed ; " so impracticable here ! " 
 
 " Then since we can't find Utopia, come back to Cum- 
 berland," he suggested. 
 
 A reminiscent smile played for a moment about her 
 lips. 
 
 " I wonder," she murmured, " whether I shall ever 
 again see that dear, wonderful old house of yours, and 
 the mist on the hills, and the stars shining here and 
 there through it, and the moon coming up in the dis- 
 tance!" 
 
 " All these things you will see again," he assured her 
 confidently. " It is because I want you to see them 
 again that I am here." 
 
 " Just now, at this minute, I feel a longing for them," 
 she whispered, looking across the table, out of the win- 
 dow, to the softly waving trees. 
 
 At the close of the luncheon, a servant handed around 
 coffee and liqueurs. The prince turned to Louise. 
 
 " You must not keep our young friend too late," he 
 said. " He has appointments with his tailor and other 
 myrmidons who have undertaken to adorn his per- 
 son." 
 
 " Alas," replied Louise, rising, " I, too, have to go 
 early to my dressmaker's. Do the honors for me, 
 prince, will you? and I will make my adieus now." 
 
 They all rose. She nodded to Graillot and Faraday.
 
 THE HILLMAN 129 
 
 The prince moved to stand by the door. For a moment 
 she and John were detached from the others. 
 
 " I want to see you alone," he said under his breath. 
 "When can I?" 
 
 She hesitated. 
 
 " I am so busy ! " she murmured. " Next week there 
 are rehearsals nearly every minute of the day." 
 
 " To-morrow," John said insistently. " You have 
 no rehearsals then. I must see you. I must talk to 
 you without this crowd." 
 
 It was his moment. Her half-formed resolutions fell 
 away before the compelling ring in his voice and the 
 earnest pleading in his eyes. 
 
 " I will be in," she promised, " to-morrow at six 
 o'clock."
 
 XIV 
 
 After the departure of her guests, Louise seemed to 
 forget the pressing appointment with her dressmaker. 
 She stood before the window of her drawing-room, look- 
 ing down into the street. She saw Faraday hail a taxi- 
 cab and drive off by himself. She watched the prince 
 courteously motion John to precede him into his wait- 
 ing automobile. She saw the two men seat themselves 
 side by side, and the footman close the door and take 
 his place beside the chauffeur. She watched until the 
 car took its place in the stream of traffic and disap- 
 peared. The sense of uneasiness which had brought 
 her to the window was unaccountable, but it seemed in 
 some way deepened by their departure together. Then 
 a voice from just behind suddenly startled her. 
 
 " Lest your reverie, dear lady, should end in spoken 
 words not meant for my ears, I, who often give myself 
 up to reveries, hasten to acquaint you with the fact of 
 my presence." 
 
 She turned quickly around. It was Graillot who had 
 returned noiselessly into the room. 
 
 " You ? " she exclaimed. " Why, I thought you were 
 the first to leave." 
 
 " I returned," Graillot explained. " An impulse 
 brought me back. A thought came into my mind. I 
 wanted to share it with you as a proof of the sentiment 
 which I feel exists between us. It is my firm belief that
 
 THE HILLMAN 131 
 
 the same thought, in a different guise, was traveling 
 through your mind, as you watched the departure of 
 your guests." 
 
 She motioned him to a place upon the couch, close 
 to where she had already seated herself. 
 
 " Come," she invited, " prove to me that you are a 
 thought-reader ! " 
 
 He sank back in his corner. His hands, with their 
 short, stubby fingers, were clasped in front of him. 
 His eyes, wide open and alert, seemed fixed upon her 
 with the ingenuous inquisitiveness of a child. 
 
 " To begin, then, I find our friend, the Prince of 
 Seyre, a most interesting, I might almost say a most 
 fascinating, study." 
 
 Louise did not reply. After a moment's pause he 
 continued : 
 
 " Let me tell you something which may or may not be 
 unknown to you. A matter of eighty years ago, there 
 was first kindled in the country places of France that 
 fire which ultimately blazed over the whole land, devas- 
 tating, murderous, anarchic, yet purifying. The fam- 
 ily seat of the house of Seyre was near Orleans. In 
 that region were many oppressors of the poor who, 
 when they heard the mutterings of the storm, shivered 
 for their safety. Upon not one of them did that furi- 
 ous mob of men and women pause to waste a single mo- 
 ment of their time. Without even a spoken word save 
 one simultaneous, unanimous yell, they grouped to- 
 gether from all quarters from every hamlet, from 
 every homestead, men and women and even children 
 and moved in one solid body upon the Chateau de Seyre. 
 The old prince would have been burned alive but for a 
 servant who threw him a pistol, with which he blew out 
 his brains, spitting at the mob. One of the sons was
 
 132 THE HILLMAN 
 
 caught and torn almost to pieces. Only the father of 
 our friend, the present Prince of Seyre, escaped." 
 
 " Why do you tell me all this ? " Louise asked, shiver- 
 ing. " It is such a chapter of horrors ! " 
 
 " It illustrates a point," Graillot replied. " Among 
 the whole aristocracy of France there was no family so 
 loathed and detested as the seigneurs of Seyre. Those 
 at the chateau, and others who were arrested in Paris, 
 met their death with singular contempt and calm. Eu- 
 gene of Seyre, whose character in my small way I have 
 studied, is of the same breed." 
 
 Louise took up a fan which lay on the table by her 
 side, and waved it carelessly in front of her face. 
 
 " One does so love," she murmured, " to hear one's 
 friends discussed in this friendly spirit ! " 
 
 " It is because Eugene of Seyre is a friend of yours 
 that I am talking to you in this fashion," Graillot con- 
 tinued. " You have also another friend this young 
 man from Cumberland." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " In him," Gaillot went on, " one perceives all the 
 primitive qualities which go to the making of splendid 
 manhood. Physically he is almost perfect, for which 
 alone we owe him a debt of gratitude. He has, if I 
 judge him rightly, all the qualities possessed by men 
 who have been brought up free from the taint of cities, 
 from the smear of our spurious over-civilization. He 
 is chivalrous and unsuspicious. He is also, unfortu- 
 nately for him, the enemy of the prince." 
 
 Louise laid down her fan. She no longer tried to 
 conceal her agitation. 
 
 " Why are you so melodramatic ? " she demanded. 
 " They have scarcely spoken. This is, I think, their 
 third meeting."
 
 THE HILLMAN 133 
 
 *' Wlien two friends," Graillot declared, *' desire the 
 same woman, then all of friendship that there may have 
 been between them is buried. When two others, who 
 are so far from being friends that they possess opposite 
 qualities, opposite characters, opposite characteristics, 
 also desire the same woman " 
 
 " Don't ! " Louise interrupted, with a sudden little 
 scream. " Don't ! You are talking wildly. You must 
 not say such things ! " 
 
 Graillot leaned forward. He shook his head very 
 slowly ; his heavy hand rested upon her shoulder. 
 
 " Ah, no, dear lady," he insisted, " I am not talking 
 wildly. I am Graillot, who for thirty years have writ- 
 ten dramas on one subject and one subject only men 
 and women. It has been given to me to study many 
 varying types of the human race, to watch the outcome 
 of many strange situations. I have watched the prince 
 draw you nearer and nearer to him. What there is or 
 may be between you I do not know. It is not for me 
 to know. But if not now, some day Eugene of Seyre 
 means you to be his, and he is not a person to be lightly 
 resisted. Now from the skies there looms up this sud- 
 <den obstacle." 
 
 "You do not realize," Louise protested, almost 
 eagerly, "how slight is my acquaintance with Mr. 
 Strangewey. I once spent the night and a few hours 
 of the next morning at his house in Cumberland, and 
 that is all I have ever seen of him. How can his pres- 
 ence here be of any serious import to Eugene ? " 
 
 " As to that," Graillot replied, " I say nothing. If 
 what I have suggested does not exist, then for the first 
 time in my life I have made a mistake; but I do not 
 think I have. You may not realize it, but there is be- 
 fore you one of those struggles that make or mar the
 
 134 THE HILLMAN 
 
 life of women of every age. As for the men, I will onl j 
 say this, and it is because of it that I have spoken at 
 all I am a lover of fair play, and the struggle is not 
 even. The younger man may hold every card in the 
 pack, but Eugene of Seyre has learned how to win tricks 
 without aces. I stayed behind to say this to you, Lou- 
 ise. You know the young man and I do not. It is you 
 who must warn him." 
 
 " Warn him ? " Louise repeated, with upraised eye- 
 brows. " Dear master, aren't we just a little do 
 you melodramatic? The age of duels is past, also 
 the age of hired bravos and assassins." 
 
 " Agreed," Graillot interrupted, " but the weapons 
 of to-day are more dangerous. It is the souls of their 
 enemies that men attack. If I were a friend of that 
 young man's I would say to him : ' Beware, not of the 
 enmity of Eugene of Seyre, but of his friendship!' 
 And now, dear lady, I have finished. I lingered behind 
 because the world holds no more sincere admirer of 
 yourself and your genius than I. Don't ring. May I 
 not let myself out? " 
 
 " Stop ! " Louise begged. 
 
 Graillot resumed his -seat. He watched with an al- 
 most painful curiosity the changes in Louise's face, 
 which was convulsed by a storm of passionate appre- 
 hension. Yet behind it all he could see the truth. 
 There was something softer in her face than he had 
 ever perceived before, a tenderer light than he had ever 
 seen in her eyes. He sighed and looked down at the 
 carpet. 
 
 Louise rose presently and walked abruptly to the 
 window. Then she came back and reseated herself by 
 his side. 
 
 " You are the one friend I have in life who under-
 
 THE HILLMAN 135 
 
 stands, dear master," she said. " Do I weary you if I 
 speak?" 
 
 He looked steadfastly into her eyes. His plain, 
 bearded face was heavy-browed, lined, tired a little with 
 the coming of age. 
 
 " Louise," he declared, " it is only because I dare not 
 lift my thoughts and eyes any higher that I count my- 
 self the greatest friend you ever could have in life ! " 
 
 She caught at his hand, her head drooped a little. 
 
 " Don't overpower me," she faltered. " I can't 
 no, I can't ! " 
 
 He watched in silence the twitching of her lips, the 
 filling of her eyes. A momentary remorse struck him. 
 Why should he afflict her at this moment with his own 
 secret? He closed his eyes, and deliberately shut out 
 the vision which had lured his tongue into the byways 
 of unwonted sentiment. He spoke firmly and without 
 emotion. 
 
 " Louise," he begged, " let me be your confidant ! 
 No man knows more of the game of life as it is placed 
 out between men and women. There is no one in whom 
 you can place a greater trust." 
 
 Her fingers clutched his, her nails dug into his palm, 
 but he did not flinch. 
 
 " I do not know," she murmured, her voice trembling 
 with agitation. " That is the truth of it all. I do not 
 know where to go for guidance or inspiration. Life 
 has suddenly become mysterious. Men seem always so 
 strong and sure. It is only we poor women who lose 
 our bearings." 
 
 Graillot patted her hands tenderly. Then he rose to 
 his feet. 
 
 " You are not going? " she asked him. 
 
 " Dear Louise," he said, " I am going, because the
 
 136 THE HILLMAN 
 
 time when I can help is not yet. Listen! More harm 
 has been done in this world by advice than in any other 
 way. I have no advice to give you. You have one 
 sure and certain guide, and that is your own heart, your 
 own instincts, your own sweet consciousness of what is 
 best. I leave you to that. If trouble comes, I am al- 
 ways ready ! "
 
 XV 
 
 During the remainder of that afternoon and evening 
 John was oppressed by a vague sense of the splendor of 
 his surroundings and his companion's mysterious ca- 
 pacity for achieving impossibilities. Their visits to 
 the tailors, the shirt-makers, the hosiers, and the boot- 
 makers almost resembled a royal progress. All diffi- 
 culties were waved aside. That night he dined, clothed 
 like other men from head to foot, in the lofty dining 
 room of one of the most exclusive clubs in London. 
 The prince proved an agreeable if somewhat reticent 
 companion. He introduced John to many well-known 
 people, always with that little note of personal interest 
 in his few words of presentation which gave a certain 
 significance to the ceremony. 
 
 From the club, where the question of John's proposed 
 membership, the prince acting as his sponsor, was fa- 
 vorably discussed with several members of the commit- 
 tee, they drove to Covent Garden, and for the first time 
 in his life John entered the famous opera-house. The 
 prince, preceded by an attendant, led the way to a box 
 upon the second tier. A woman turned her head as 
 they entered and stretched out her hand, which the 
 prince raised to his lips. 
 
 *' You see, I have taken you at your word, Eugene," 
 she remarked. " So many evenings I have looked long- 
 ingly from my stall at your empty box. To-night I 
 summoned up all my courage, and here I am ! "
 
 138 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " You give me a double pleasure, dear lady," the 
 prince declared. " Not only is it a j oy to be your host, 
 but you give me also the opportunity of presenting to 
 you my friend, John Strangewey. Strangewey, this is 
 my very distant relative and very dear friend, Lady 
 Hilda Mulloch." 
 
 Lady Hilda smiled graciously at John. She was ap- 
 parently of a little less than middle age, with dark 
 bands of chestnut hair surmounted by a tiara. Her 
 face was the face of a clever and still beautiful woman ; 
 her figure slender and dignified; her voice low and de- 
 lightful. 
 
 " Are you paying your nightly homage to Calavera, 
 Mr. Strangewey, or are you only an occasional vis- 
 itor? " she asked. 
 
 " This is my first visit of any sort to Covent Garden," 
 John told her. 
 
 She looked at him with as much surprise as good 
 breeding permitted. John, who had not as yet sat 
 down, seemed almost preternaturally tall in that small 
 box, with its low ceiling. He was looking around the 
 house with the enthusiasm of a boy. Lady Hilda 
 glanced away from him toward the prince, and smiled ; 
 then she looked back at John. There was something 
 like admiration in her face. 
 
 "Do you live abroad?" she asked. 
 
 John shook his head. 
 
 " I live in Cumberland," he said. " Many people 
 here seem to think that that is the same thing. My 
 brother and I have a farm there." 
 
 " But you visit London occasionally, surely ? " 
 
 " I have not been in London," John told her, " since 
 I passed through it on my way home from Oxford, eight 
 years ago."
 
 THE HILLMAN 139 
 
 " But why not? " she persisted. 
 
 John laughed a little. 
 
 " Well, really," he admitted, " when I come to think 
 of it seriously, I scarcely know. I have lived alone with 
 an elder brother, who hates London and would be very 
 unhappy if I got into the way of coming up regularly. 
 I fancy that I have rather grown into his way of think- 
 ing. I am quite satisfied or rather I have been quite 
 satisfied to live down there all the year round." 
 
 " I have never heard anything so extraordinary in 
 my life ! " the woman declared frankly. " Is it the 
 prince who has induced you to break out of your seclu- 
 sion? " 
 
 " Our young friend," the prince explained, " finds 
 himself suddenly in altered circumstances. He has 
 been left a large fortune, and has come to spend it. In- 
 cidentally, I hope, he has come to see something more 
 of your sex than is possible among his mountain wilds. 
 He has come, in short, to look a little way into life." 
 
 Lady Hilda leaned back in her chair. 
 
 " How romantic ! " 
 
 " The prince amuses himself," John assured her. " I 
 clon't suppose I shall stay very long in London. I want 
 just to try it for a time." 
 
 She looked at him almost wistfully. She was a 
 woman with brains ; a woman notorious for the freedom 
 of her life, for her intellectual gifts, for her almost bru- 
 tal disregard of the conventions of her class. The psy- 
 chological interest of John Strangewey's situation ap- 
 pealed to her powerfully. Besides, she had a weakness 
 for handsome men. 
 
 *' Of course, it all sounds like a fairy tale," she de- 
 clared. " Tell me exactly, please, how long you have 
 been in London."
 
 i 4 o THE HILLMAN 
 
 " About forty-eight hours," he answered. 
 
 " And what did you do last night? " 
 
 " I dined with two friends, we went to the Palace, and 
 one of them took me to a supper club." 
 
 She made a little grimace. 
 
 "You began in somewhat obvious fashion," she re- 
 marked. 
 
 " I can vouch for the friends," the prince observed, 
 smiling. 
 
 "At any rate," said Lady Hilda, "I am glad to 
 think that I shall be able to watch you when you see 
 Calavera dance for the first time." 
 
 The curtain rang up upon one of the most gorgeous 
 and sensuous of the Russian ballets. John, who by; 
 their joint insistence was occupying the front chair in 
 the box, leaned forward in his place, his eyes steadfastly 
 fixed upon the stage. Both the prince and Lady Hilda, 
 in the background, although they occasionally glanced 
 at the performance, devoted most of their attention to 
 watching him. 
 
 As the story progressed and the music grew in pas- 
 sion and voluptuousness, they distinctly saw his almost 
 militant protest. They saw the knitting of his firm 
 mouth and the slight contraction of his eyebrows. The 
 prince and his friend exchanged glances. She drew her 
 chair a little farther back, and he followed her example. 
 
 " Where did you find anything so wonderful as this ? '* 
 she murmured. 
 
 " Lost among the hills in Cumberland," the prince re- 
 plied. " I have an estate up there in fact, he and I 
 are joint lords of the manor of the village in which he 
 has lived." 
 
 " And you? " she whispered, glancing at John to be 
 sure that she was not overheard. " Where do you come
 
 THE HILLMAN 
 
 in? An educator of the young? I don't seem to see 
 you in that role ! " 
 
 A very rare and by no means pleasant smile twisted 
 the corners of his lips for a moment. 
 
 " It is a long story." 
 
 " Can I be brought in ? " she asked. 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 " It rests with you. It would suit my plans." 
 
 She toyed with her fan for a moment, looked rest- 
 lessly at the stage and back again at John. Then she 
 rose from her place and stood before the looking-glass. 
 From the greater obscurity of the box she motioned to 
 the prince. 
 
 John remained entirely heedless of their movements. 
 His eyes were still riveted upon the stage, fascinated 
 with the wonderful coloring, the realization of a new^ 
 art. 
 
 " You and I," Lady Hilda whispered, " do not need 
 to play about with the truth, Eugene. What are you 
 doing this for? " 
 
 " The idlest whim," the prince assured her quietly. 
 " Look at him. Think for a moment of his position 
 absolutely without experience, entirely ignorant about 
 women, with a fortune one only dreams of, and probably 
 the handsomest animal in London. What is going to 
 become of him? " 
 
 " I think I understand a little," she confessed. 
 
 " I think you do," the prince assented. " He has 
 views, this young man. It is my humor to see them dis- 
 sipated. The modern Sir Galahad always irritated me 
 a little." 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " They'll never give him a chance, these women," she 
 said. " Much better hand him over to me."
 
 j 4 2 THE HILLMAN 
 
 The prince smiled enigmatically, and Lady Hilda re- 
 turned to her seat. John was still leaning forward 
 with his eyes fixed upon Calavera, who was dancing 
 alone now. The ballet was drawing toward the end. 
 The music had reached its climax of wild and passion- 
 ate sensuousness, dominated and inspired by the woman 
 whose every movement and every glance seemed part of 
 some occult, dimly understood language. 
 
 When the curtain rang down, John, like many others, 
 was confused. Nevertheless, after that first breathless 
 pause, he stood up and joined in the tumultuous ap- 
 plause. 
 
 " Well? " the prince asked. 
 
 John shook his head. " I don't know," he answered. 
 
 " Neither does any one else," Lady Hilda said. 
 " Don't try to analyze your impressions for our bene- 
 fit, Mr. Strangewey. I am exactly in your position, 
 and I have been here a dozen times. Even to us har- 
 dened men and women of the world, this Russian music 
 came as a surprise. There were parts of it you did 
 not like, though, weren't there ? " 
 
 " There were parts of it I hated," John agreed. 
 *' There were passages that seemed to aim at discord in 
 every sense of the word." 
 
 She nodded sympathetically. They were on their 
 way down the broad staircase. 
 
 " I wonder," she murmured, " whether I am going to 
 be asked out to supper? " 
 
 " Alas, not to-night, dear lady," the prince regretted. 
 " I am having a few friends at Seyre House." 
 
 She shot a glance at him and shrugged her shoulders. 
 She was evidently displeased. 
 
 " How much too bad ! " she exclaimed. " I am not 
 at all sure that it is right of you to invite Mr. Strange-
 
 THE HILLMAN I4S 
 
 wey to one of your orgies. A respectable little supper 
 at the Carlton, and a cigarette in my library afterward,, 
 would have been a great deal better for both of you 
 certainly for Mr. Strangewey. I think I shall run away 
 with him, as it is ! " 
 
 The prince shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " It is unfortunate," he sighed, " but we are both en- 
 gaged. If you will give us the opportunity some other 
 evening " 
 
 " I am not at all sure that I shall have anything more 
 to do with you, Eugene," she declared. " You are not 
 behaving nicely. Will you come and see me while you 
 are in town, Mr. Strangewey ? " she added, turning to 
 John. " I suppose you can be trusted to reach No. 21 
 Pont Street without your Mephistophelian chaperon ? " 
 
 " I should like to very much," he replied. " I think," 
 he added, a little hesitatingly, " that I have read one of 
 your books of travel. It is very interesting to meet you." 
 
 " So my fame has really reached Cumberland ! " she 
 laughed. " You must come and talk to me one after- 
 noon quite soon. Will you? I want so much to hear 
 your impressions of London. I am always in between 
 six and seven ; or if you want to come earlier, I will try 
 to be in if you telephone." 
 
 '* I will come with pleasure," John promised. 
 
 They stood for a few moments in the crowded vesti- 
 bule until Lady Hilda Mulloch's car was called. The 
 prince stood back, allowing John to escort her to the 
 door. She detained him for a moment after she had 
 taken her seat, and leaned out of the window, her fingers 
 still in his hand. 
 
 " Be careful ! " she whispered. " The prince's supper 
 parties are just a little shall I say banal? There are 
 better things if one waits ! "
 
 XVI 
 
 The reception-rooms of Seyre House, by some people 
 considered the finest in London, were crowded that night 
 by a brilliant and cosmopolitan assembly. For some 
 time John stood by the prince's side and was introduced 
 to more people than he had ever met before in his life. 
 Presently, however, he was discovered by his friend 
 Amerton. 
 
 " Queer thing your being here, a friend of the prince 
 and all that ! " the young man remarked. " Where's 
 Miss Sophy this evening? " 
 
 " I haven't seen her," John replied. " I don't be- 
 lieve she is invited." 
 
 " Did you hear that Calavera is coming? " Amerton 
 inquired. 
 
 John nodded. 
 
 " She's expected any moment. I wonder what she's 
 like off the stage ! " 
 
 " You wait and see," Lord Amerton sighed. " There 
 isn't another woman in Europe to touch her. Why, 
 they say that even our host is one of her victims. Like 
 to be introduced to some of the girls, or shall we go and 
 have a drink ? " 
 
 John was hesitating when he felt a hand upon his 
 shoulder. The prince's voice sounded in his ear. 
 
 " Strangewey," he said, " I am privileged to present 
 you to Mme. Aida Calavera. Madame, this is the 
 friend of whom I spoke to you."
 
 THE HILLMAN 145 
 
 John turned away from the little group of girls and 
 young men toward whom Amerton had been leading him. 
 Even though the prince's speech had given him a mo- 
 ment's breathing-space, he felt himself constrained to 
 pause before he made his bow of ceremony. 
 
 The woman was different from anything he had 
 imagined, from anything he had ever seen. In the ballet 
 a writhing, sensuous figure with every gesture a note in 
 the octave of passion, here she seemed the very personi- 
 fication of a negative and striking immobility. She was 
 slender, not so tall as she had seemed upon the stage, 
 dressed in white from head to foot. Her face was al- 
 most marblelike in its pallor, her smooth, black hair was 
 drawn tightly over her ears, and her eyes were of the 
 deepest shade of blue. 
 
 During that momentary pause, while he searched 
 among a confused mixture of sensations for some for- 
 mula of polite speech, John found time to liken her in 
 his mind to something Egyptian. She raised her hand, 
 as he bowed, with a gesture almost royal in its con- 
 descension. The prince, with quiet tact, bridged over 
 the moment during which John struggled in vain for 
 something to say. 
 
 " Mr. Strangewey," he remarked, " paid his first visit 
 to Covent Garden to-night. He has seen his first ballet, 
 as we moderns understand the term. I cannot help en- 
 vying him that delight. He naturally finds it difficult to 
 realize this additional good fortune. Will you excuse 
 me for one moment ? " 
 
 The prince departed to welcome some later arrivals. 
 The noisy little group standing close at hand, from 
 which John had been diverted, passed on into the re- 
 freshment-room, and the two were, for a few moments, 
 almost isolated.
 
 146 THE HILLMAN 
 
 Even then John felt himself tongue-tied. Standing 
 where she was, with that background of dark oil-paint- 
 ings lit only by shaded electric lamps, she was more than 
 ever like a wonderful old Egyptian statue into which 
 some measure of slow-moving life had been breathed. 
 He recognized almost with wonder the absence of any 
 ornament of any sort on her neck or fingers. 
 
 ** You were pleased with the performance, I hope ? " 
 
 Her voice was in character with her personality. It 
 was extremely low, scarcely louder than a whisper. To 
 his surprise, it was almost wholly free from any foreign 
 accent. 
 
 " It was very wonderful," John answered. 
 
 " You understood the story? " 
 
 " Only partly," he confessed. 
 
 '* Would you have recognized me, seeing me as you do 
 now?" 
 
 " Never in the world," he assured her. 
 
 " Tell me why I am so different off the stage." 
 
 " On the stage," he replied, " you seem to me to be 
 the embodiment of wild movement. Here, you seem 
 forgive me to be a statue. I can scarcely believe that 
 you walked across the room." 
 
 " It is my pose," she said calmly J 
 
 " Then you are a great actress as well as a great 
 dancer," he declared. 
 
 For the first time the plastic calm of her features 
 seemed disturbed. She smiled, but even her smile seemed 
 to him more like some mechanically contrived alteration 
 in the facial expression of a statue than anything nat- 
 ural or spontaneous. 
 
 " The prince tells me," she continued, " that you are 
 a stranger in London. Give me your arm. We will 
 walk to a quieter place. In a few moments we are to
 
 THE HILLMAN 147 
 
 be disturbed for supper. One eats so often and so much 
 in this country. Why do I say that, though? It is 
 not so bad as in Russia." 
 
 They passed across the polished wood floor into a lit- 
 tle room with Oriental fittings, where a lamp was swing- 
 ing from the ceiling, giving out a dim but pleasant light. 
 The place was empty, and the sound of the music and 
 voices seemed to come from a distance. She sank down 
 upon a divan back among the shadows, and motioned 
 John to sit by her side. 
 
 " You have come to find out, to understand is that 
 not so ? " she inquired. " What you know of life, the 
 prince tells me, you have learned from books. Now you 
 have come to discover what more than that there is to 
 be learned in the world of men and women." 
 
 " Did the prince tell you all this ? " John asked. 
 
 " He did," she admitted. " He seems much interested 
 in you." 
 
 " He has been very kind," John said. 
 
 She turned her head slowly and looked at him. 
 
 " A young man to whom the prince chooses to be kind 
 is, in a way, fortunate," she said. " I think he knows 
 more of life than any other person whom I ever met." 
 
 " You have known him for long? " 
 
 " In Budapest, five years ago ; in Russia, the season 
 afterward ; then in Paris ; in Petersburg again, and now 
 in London. The prince has been a faithful friend. He 
 came once from Florence to Petersburg, to be present 
 at my first night at the opera. Always he impresses 
 me the same way. There is very little in life, in men 
 or in women, which he does not understand. Let us 
 return to what we were speaking about. I find it very 
 interesting." 
 
 " You are very kind," John declared.
 
 148 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " What you will learn here," she went on, " depends 
 very much upon yourself. Are you intelligent? Per- 
 haps not very," she added, looking at him critically. 
 " You have brains, however, without a doubt. You 
 Lave also what places you at once en rapport with the 
 cult of the moment you are wonderfully good-look- 
 ing." 
 
 John moved a little uneasily in his place. He felt 
 that the dancer's eyes were fixed upon him, and he was 
 feverishly anxious not to respond to the invitation of 
 their gaze. He was conscious, too, of the queer, inde- 
 finable fascination of her near presence in the dimly 
 lighted room. 
 
 " What you will learn," she proceeded, " depends 
 Yery much upon your desires. If you seek for the best, 
 and are content with nothing else, you will find it. But 
 so few men are content to wait ! " 
 
 " I intend to," John said simply. 
 
 " Look at me, please," she ordered. 
 
 Once more he was compelled to look into her deep- 
 blue eyes. The incomprehensible smile was still upon 
 her lips. 
 
 "You have loved?" 
 
 " No," he answered, taken a little aback by the 
 abruptness of the question. 
 
 " You grow more wonderful ! How old are you, may 
 I ask?" 
 
 " Twenty-eight." 
 
 " At the present moment, then, you are free from 
 any distracting thoughts about women? You have no 
 entanglements ? " 
 
 " I have nothing of the sort," John declared, almost 
 irritably. " There is one person who has made a won- 
 derful change in my life. I believe I could say that I
 
 THE HILLMAN 149 
 
 am absolutely certain of my feelings for her, but so far 
 she has not given me much encouragement. Tell me, 
 madame, why do you ask me these questions ? " 
 
 " Because it interests me," she replied. " Why do 
 you not insist that this lady should tell you the 
 truth?" 
 
 " I have come to London to insist," he told her, " but 
 I have been here only forty-eight hours." 
 
 " So you are waiting? " 
 
 " I am waiting," he assented. 
 
 " So many people spend their lives doing that," she 
 went on presently. " It does not appeal to me. The 
 moment I make up my mind that I want a thing, I 
 take it. The moment I make up my mind to give, I 
 give." 
 
 John was suddenly conscious of the closeness of the 
 atmosphere. The fingers of his hands were clenched 
 tightly together. He swore to himself that he would 
 not look into this woman's face. He listened to the 
 band which was playing in the balcony of the great hall, 
 to the murmur of the voices, the shouts of laughter. 
 He told himself that Mme. Calavera was amusing her- 
 self with him. 
 
 " The prince's party," she continued, after a long 
 pause, " seems to be a great success, to judge by the 
 noise they are making. So many people shout and 
 laugh when they are happy. I myself find a more per- 
 fect expression of happiness in silence." 
 
 She was leaning a little back in her place. One arm 
 was resting upon a pile of cushions, the other hung 
 loosely over the side of the divan. John felt a sudden 
 desire to rise to his feet, and a simultaneous conscious- 
 ness that his feet seemed to be made of lead. 
 
 " You may hold my fingers," she said ; " and please
 
 150 THE HILLMAN 
 
 keep your face turned toward me. Why are you nerv- 
 ous? I am not very formidable." 
 
 He took her fingers, very much as the prince had 
 done upon her arrival, and pressed them formally to 
 his lips. Then he released them and rose. 
 
 " You know," he confessed, " I am very stupid at this 
 sort of thing. Shall we go back to the reception rooms? 
 I shall be the most unpopular man here if I keep you any 
 longer." 
 
 The smile deepened slightly. Little lines appeared 
 at the sides of her eyes. So far from being annoyed, he 
 could see that she was laughing. 
 
 " Joseph," she mocked, " I am not tempting you, 
 really 1 Do sit down. I have met men in many coun- 
 tries, but none like you. So you do not wish to accept 
 those small privileges which a woman may offer when 
 she chooses ? " 
 
 " I believe in fact, I am almost certain that I 
 love the woman I have come to London to see," John de- 
 clared. 
 
 " You get more and more interesting," she murmured. 
 " Don't you realize that your love for one woman should 
 make you kind to all ? " 
 
 " No, I don't," he answered bluntly. 
 
 " Come," she said, " do not be afraid of me. I will 
 not make love to you seriously. You must be kind 
 to me because everybody spoils me. After supper there 
 are one or two more questions I must ask you. Do you 
 know that I am going to dance here? Never before 
 have I danced in a private house in England. Except 
 upon the stage, I like to dance only to those whom I 
 love ! " 
 
 The little space between the curtains was suddenly 
 darkened. John turned eagerly around, and, to his
 
 THE HILLMAN 151 
 
 immense relief, recognized the prince. Their host came 
 forward to where they were sitting, and held out his 
 arm to Calavera. 
 
 " Dear lady," he announced, " supper is served. 
 Will you do me this great honor? " 
 
 She rose to her feet. The prince turned to John. 
 
 " This is my privilege as host," he explained ; " but 
 if you will follow us, you will find some consolation in 
 store for you."
 
 XVII 
 
 " Well ? " the prince asked, as he handed Aida Gala- 
 vera to her place at his right hand. 
 
 " I think not," she replied. 
 
 He raised his eyebrows slightly. For a moment he 
 glanced down the supper-table with the care of a punc- 
 tilious host, to see that his guests were properly seated. 
 He addressed a few trivialities to the musical-comedy 
 star who was sitting on his left. Then he leaned once 
 more toward the great dancer. 
 
 " You surprise me," he said. " I should have thought 
 that the enterprise would have commended itself to you. 
 You do not doubt the facts ? " 
 
 " They are obvious enough," she replied. " Thei 
 young man is all that you say, even more ingenuous 
 than I had believed possible, but I fancy I must be 
 getting old. He tried to tell me that he was in love with 
 another woman, and I felt suddenly powerless. I think 
 I must be getting to that age when one prefers to 
 achieve one's conquests with the lifting of a finger." 
 
 The prince sighed. 
 
 "I shall never understand your sex!" he declared. 
 ** I should have supposed that the slight effort of re- 
 sistance such a young man might make would have 
 provided just the necessary stimulus to complete his 
 subjection." 
 
 She turned her beautiful head and looked at the prince 
 through narrowed eyes. 
 
 " After all," she asked, " what should I gain ? I am
 
 THE HILLMAN 153 
 
 not like a child who robs an insect of life for a few mo- 
 ments' amusement. Even if I have no conscience, it 
 gives me no pleasure to be wanton. Besides, the young 
 man is, in his way, a splendid work of art. Why should 
 I be vandal enough to destroy it? I shall ask you an- 
 other question." 
 
 The prince slowly sipped the wine from the glass that 
 he was holding to his lips. Then he set it down de- 
 liberately. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " What is your interest ? Is it a bet, a whim, or 
 enmity ? " 
 
 " You may count it the latter," the prince replied 
 deliberately. 
 
 Calavera laughed softly to herself. 
 
 " Now, for the first time," she confessed, " I feel in- 
 terest. This is where one realizes that we live in the 
 most impossible age of all history. The great noble 
 who seeks to destroy the poor young man from the 
 country is powerless to wreak harm upon him. You 
 can neither make him a pauper nor have him beaten to 
 death. Why are there princes any longer, I wonder? 
 You are only as other men." 
 
 " It is an unhappy reflection, but it is the truth," 
 the prince admitted. " My ancestors would have dis- 
 posed of this young man as I should a troublesome fly, 
 and it would have cost them no more than a few silver 
 pieces and a cask of wine. To-day, alas, conditions 
 are different. It will cost me more." 
 
 She trifled for a moment with the salad upon her 
 plate, which as yet she had scarcely tasted. 
 
 " I am feeling," she remarked, " magnificently Ori- 
 ental like Cleopatra. The sensation pleases me. 
 We are bargaining, are we not "
 
 154 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " We shall not bargain," the prince interrupted 
 softly. " It is you who shall name your price." 
 
 She raised her eyes and dropped them again. 
 
 " The prince has spoken," she murmured. 
 
 He touched her fingers for a moment with his, as if 
 to seal their compact ; then he turned once more to the 
 lady upon his left. 
 
 Seyre House was one of the few mansions in London 
 which boasted a banqueting-hall as well as a picture- 
 gallery. Although the long table was laid for forty 
 guests, it still seemed, with its shaded lights and its pro- 
 fusion of flowers, like an oasis of color in the middle of 
 the huge, somberly lighted apartment. The penny 
 illustrated papers, whose contributors know more of the 
 doings of London society than anybody else, always 
 hinted in mysterious terms at the saturnalian character 
 of the prince's supper parties. John, who had heard 
 a few whispers beforehand, and whose interest in his 
 surroundings was keen and intense, wondered whether 
 this company of beautiful women and elegant men were 
 indeed a modern revival of those wonderful creations of 
 Boccaccio, to whom they had so often been lik- 
 ened. 
 
 Some of the faces of the guests were well known to 
 him through their published photographs ; to others he 
 had been presented by the prince upon their arrival. 
 He was seated between a young American star of musi- 
 cal comedy and a lady who had only recently dropped 
 from the social firmament through the medium of the 
 divorce-court, to return to the theater of her earlier 
 fame. Both showed every desire to converse with him 
 between the intervals of eating and drinking, but were 
 constantly brought to a pause by John's lack of knowl- 
 edge of current topics. After her third glass of cham-
 
 THE HILLMAN 155 
 
 pagne, the lady who had recently been a countess an- 
 nounced her intention of taking him under her wing. 
 
 " Some one must tell you all about things," she in- 
 sisted. " What you need is a guide and a chaperon. 
 Won't I do?" 
 
 " Perfectly," he agreed. 
 
 " Fair play ! " protested the young lady on his left, 
 whose name was Rosie Sharon. " I spoke to him first ! " 
 
 " Jolly bad luck ! " Lord Amerton drawled from the 
 other side of the table. " Neither of you have an 
 earthly. He's booked. Saw him out with her the other 
 evening." 
 
 " I sha'n't eat any more supper," Rosie Sharon 
 pouted, pushing away her plate. 
 
 " You ought to have told us about her at once," the 
 lady who had been a countess declared severely. 
 
 John preserved his equanimity. 
 
 " It is to be presumed," he murmured, " that you 
 ladies are both free from any present attachment ? " 
 
 " Got you there ! " Amerton chuckled. " What 
 about Billy?" 
 
 Rosie Sharon sighed. 
 
 " We don't come to the prince's supper parties to 
 remember our ties," she declared. " Let's all go on 
 talking nonsense, please. Even if my heart is broken, 
 I could never resist the prince's pate! " 
 
 Apparently every one was of the same mind. The 
 hum of laughter steadily grew. Jokes, mostly in the 
 nature of personalities, were freely bandied across the 
 table. It was becoming obvious that the contributors 
 to the penny illustrated papers knew what they were 
 talking about. Under shelter of the fire of conversa- 
 tion, the prince leaned toward his companion and re- 
 opened their previous discussion.
 
 I 5 6 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " Do you know," he began, " I am inclined to be 
 somewhat disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm in a 
 certain direction ! " 
 
 " I have disappointed many men in my time," she re- 
 plied. " Do you doubt my power, now that I have 
 promised to exercise it?" 
 
 " Who could ? " he replied courteously. " Yet this 
 young man poses, I believe, as something of a St. An- 
 thony. He may give you trouble." 
 
 " He is then, what you call a prig? " 
 
 " A most complete and perfect specimen, even in this 
 nation of prigs 1 " 
 
 " All that you tell me," she sighed, " makes the en- 
 terprise seem easier. It is, after all, rather like the 
 lioness and the mouse, isn't it? " 
 
 The prince made no reply, but upon his lips there 
 lingered a faintly incredulous smile. The woman by 
 his side leaned back in her place. She had the air of 
 accepting a challenge. 
 
 " After supper," she said, " we will see ! " 
 
 A single chord of music in a minor key floated across 
 the room, soft at first, swelling later into a volume of 
 sound, then dying away and ceasing altogether. John, 
 standing momentarily alone in a corner of the picture- 
 gallery, found it almost incredible that this wildly 
 hilarious throng of men and women could so soon, and 
 without a single admonitory word, break off in the 
 midst of their conversation, stifle their mirth, almost 
 hold their breath, in obedience to this unspoken appeal 
 for silence. Every light in the place was suddenly ex- 
 tinguished. There remained only the shaded lamps 
 overhanging the pictures. 
 
 Not a whisper was heard in the room. John, look-
 
 THE HILLMAN 15? 
 
 ing around him in astonishment, was conscious only of 
 the half-suppressed breathing of the men and women 
 who lined the walls, or were still standing in little groups 
 at the end of the long hall. Again there came the music, 
 this time merged in a low but insistent clamor of other- 
 instruments. Then, suddenly, through the door at the 
 farther end of the room came a dimly seen figure in 
 white. The place seemed wrapped in a mystical twi- 
 light, with long black rays of deeper shadow lying across 
 the floor. There was a little murmur of tense voices, 
 and then again silence. 
 
 For a few moments the figure in white was motionless. 
 Then, without any visible commencement, she seemed 
 suddenly to blend into the waves of low, passionate 
 music. The dance itself was without form or definite 
 movement. She seemed at first like some white, limb- 
 less spirit, floating here and there across the dark bars^ 
 of shadow at the calling of the melody. There was no 
 apparent effort of the body. She was merely a beauti- 
 ful, unearthly shape. It was like the flitting of a white 
 moth through the blackness of a moonless summer night. 
 
 The impression it made upon John was indescribable. 
 He watched with straining eyes, conscious of a deep 
 sense of pleasure. Here was something appealing in- 
 sistently to his love of beauty pure and simple; a new- 
 joy, a new grace, something which thrilled him and 
 which left no aftermath of uneasy thoughts. 
 
 The music suddenly faded away into nothing. With 
 no more effort than when she had glided into her poem 
 of movement, the dancer stood in a pose of perfect still- 
 ness. There were a few moments of tense silence. 
 Then came a crash of chords, and the slender white 
 figure launched into the dance. 
 
 Her motions became more animated, more human..
 
 i 5 8 THE HILLMAN 
 
 With feet which seemed never to meet the earth, she 
 glided toward the corner where John was standing. 
 He caught the smoldering fire in her eyes as she danced 
 within a few feet of him. He felt a catch in his breath. 
 Some subtle and only half-expressed emotion shook his 
 whole being, seemed to tear at the locked chamber of 
 his soul. 
 
 She had flung her arms forward, so near that they 
 almost touched him. He could have sworn that her lips 
 had called his name. He felt himself bewitched, filled 
 with an insane longing to throw out his arms in response 
 to her passionate, unspoken invitation, in obedience to 
 the clamoring of his seething senses. He had forgotten, 
 even, that any one else was in the room. 
 
 Then, suddenly, the music stopped. The lights flared 
 out from the ceiling and from every corner of the apart- 
 ment. Slender and erect, her arms hanging limply at 
 her sides, without a touch of color in her cheeks or a 
 coil of her black hair disarranged, without a sign of 
 heat or disturbance or passion in her face, John found 
 Aida Calavera standing within a few feet of him, her 
 eyes seeking for his. She laid her fingers upon his arm. 
 The room was ringing with shouts of applause, in 
 which John unconsciously joined. Every one was try- 
 ing to press forward toward her. With her left hand 
 she waved them back. 
 
 " If I have pleased you," she said, " I am so glad ! 
 I go now to rest for a little time." 
 
 She tightened her clasp upon her companion's arm, 
 and they passed out of the picture-gallery and down a 
 long corridor. John felt as if he were walking in a 
 dream. Volition seemed to have left him. He only 
 knew that the still, white hand upon his arm seemed like 
 a vise burning into his flesh.
 
 THE HILLMAN 159 
 
 She led him to the end of the corridor, through an- 
 other door, into a small room furnished in plain but 
 comfortable fashion. 
 
 " We will invade the prince's own sanctum," she mur- 
 mured. " Before I dance, I drink nothing but water. 
 Now I want some champagne. Will you fetch me some, 
 and bring it to me yourself? " 
 
 She sank back upon a divan as she spoke. John 
 turned to leave the room, but she called him back. 
 
 " Come here," she invited, " close to my side ! I can 
 wait for the champagne. Tell me, why you are so 
 silent? And my dancing that pleased you?" 
 
 He felt the words stick in his throat. The sight of 
 her cold, alluring beauty, shining out of her eyes, pro- 
 claiming itself and her wishes from her parted lips, 
 filled him with a sudden resentment. He hated himself 
 for the tumult which raged within him, and her for hav- 
 ing aroused it. 
 
 " Your dancing was indeed wonderful," he stammered. 
 
 " It was for you ! " she whispered, her voice growing 
 softer and lower. " It was for you I danced. Did you 
 not feel it?" 
 
 Her arms stole toward him. The unnatural calm 
 with which she had finished her dance seemed suddenly 
 to pass. Her bosom was rising and falling more 
 quickly. There was a faint spot of color in her cheek. 
 
 " It was wonderful," he told her. " I will get you 
 the champagne." 
 
 Her lips were parted. She smiled up at him. 
 
 " Go quickly," she whispered, " and come back 
 quickly! I wait for you." 
 
 He left the room and passed out again into the pic- 
 ture-gallery before he had the least idea where he was. 
 The band was playing a waltz, and one or two couples;
 
 i6o THE HILLMAN 
 
 were dancing. The people seemed suddenly to have 
 become like puppets in some strange, unreal dream. 
 He felt an almost feverish longing for the open air, for 
 a long draft of the fresh sweetness of the night, far 
 away from this overheated atmosphere charged with un- 
 namable things. 
 
 As he passed through the farther doorway he came 
 face to face with the prince. 
 
 "Where are you going?" the latter asked. 
 
 " Mme. Calavera has asked me to get her some cham- 
 pagne," he answered. 
 
 The prince smiled. 
 
 " I will see that it is sent to her at once," he promised. 
 *' You are in my sanctum, are you not? You can pur- 
 sue your tete-a-tete there without interruption. You 
 are a very much envied man ! " 
 
 " Mme. Calavera is there," John replied. " As for 
 me, I am afraid I shall have to go now." 
 
 The smile faded from the prince's lips. His eye- 
 brows came slowly together. 
 
 " You are leaving? " he repeated. 
 
 " I must ! " John insisted. " I can't help it. For- 
 give my behaving like a boor, but I must go. Good 
 night ! " 
 
 The prince stretched out his hand, but he was too 
 late. 
 
 It was twenty minutes past two o'clock when John 
 left Grosvenor Square, and it was twenty minutes to five 
 when a sleepy hall-porter took him up in the lift to his 
 rooms on the fourth floor at the Milan. The interven- 
 ing space of time was never anything to him but an 
 ugly and tangled sheaf of memories. 
 
 His first overwhelming desire had been simply to 
 scape from that enervating and perfervid atmosphere,
 
 THE HILLMAN 161 
 
 to feel the morning air cool upon his forehead, to drink 
 in great gulps of the fresh, windy sweetness. He felt 
 as if poison had been poured into his veins, as if he 
 had tampered with the unclean things of life. 
 
 He found himself, after a few minutes' hurried walk- 
 ing, in Piccadilly. The shadows that flitted by him, 
 lingering as he approached and offering their stereo- 
 typed greeting, filled him with a new horror. He turned 
 abruptly down Duke Street and made his way to St. 
 James's Park. From here he walked slowly eastward. 
 When he reached the Strand, however, the storm in his 
 soul was still unabated. He turned away from the 
 Milan. The turmoil of his passions drove him to the 
 thoughts of flight. Half an hour later he entered St. 
 Pancras Station. 
 
 " What time is the next train north to Kendal or 
 Carlisle ? " he inquired. 
 
 The porter stared at him. John's evening clothes 
 were spattered with mud, the rain-drops were glistening 
 on his coat and face, his new silk hat was ruined. It 
 was not only his clothes, however, which attracted the 
 man's attention. There was the strained look of a 
 fugitive in John's face, a fugitive flying from some 
 threatened fate. 
 
 " The newspaper train at five thirty is the earliest, 
 sir," he said. " I don't know whether you can get to 
 Kendal by it, but it stops at Carlisle." 
 
 John looked at the clock. There was an hour to 
 wait. He wandered about the station, gloomy, chill, 
 deserted. The place sickened him, and he strolled out 
 into the streets again. By chance he left the station 
 by the same exit as on the day of his arrival in London. 
 He stopped short. 
 
 How could he have forgotten, even for a moment?
 
 162 THE HILLMAN 
 
 This was not the world which he had come to discover. 
 This was just some plague-spot upon which he had 
 stumbled. Through the murky dawn and across the 
 ugly streets he looked into Louise's drawing-room. 
 She would be there waiting for him on the morrow ! 
 
 Louise ! The thought of her was like a sweet, purify- 
 ing stimulant. He felt the throbbing of his nerves 
 soothed. He felt himself growing calm. The terror 
 of the last few hours was like a nightmare which had 
 passed. He summoned a taxicab and was driven to 
 the Milan. His wanderings for the night were over.
 
 XVIII 
 
 Sophy Gerard sat in the little back room of Louise's 
 house, which the latter called her den, but which she 
 seldom entered. The little actress was looking very 
 trim and neat in a simple blue-serge costume which fitted 
 her to perfection, her hair very primly arranged and 
 tied up with a bow. She had a pen in her mouth, there 
 was a sheaf of bills before her, and an open housekeep- 
 ing-book lay on her knee. She had been busy for the 
 last half-hour making calculations, the result of which 
 had brought a frown to her face. 
 
 " There is no doubt about it," she decided. " Louise 
 is extravagant ! " 
 
 The door opened, and Louise herself, in a gray morn- 
 ing gown of some soft material, with a bunch of deep- 
 red roses at her waist, looked into the room. 
 
 " Why, little girl," she exclaimed, " how long have 
 you been here ? " 
 
 " All the morning," Sophy replied. " I took the 
 dogs out, and then I started on your housekeeping-book 
 and the bills. Your checks will have to be larger than 
 ever this month, Louise, and I don't see how you can 
 possibly draw them unless you go and see your bankers 
 first." 
 
 Louise threw herself into an easy chair. 
 
 " Dear me ! " she sighed. " I thought I had been so 
 careful ! " 
 
 " How can yen talk about being careful ? " Sophy
 
 i6 4 THE HILLMAN 
 
 protested, tapping the little pile of bills with her fore- 
 finger. " You seem to have had enough asparagus and 
 strawberries every day for at least half a dozen people. 
 As for the butcher, I am going this afternoon to tell 
 him exactly what I think of him. And there are sev- 
 eral matters here," she went on, " concerning which you 
 must really talk to the cook yourself. For instance " 
 
 " Oh, please don't ! " Louise broke in. " I know I 
 am extravagant. I suppose I always shall be; but if 
 there is one thing in the world I will not do, it is talk to 
 the cook! She might insist upon going, and I have 
 never known any one who made such entrees. Remem- 
 ber, child, it will be full salary in a fortnight's time." 
 
 " You will have to go and see your bankers, any- 
 how," Sophy declared. " It's no use my writing out 
 these checks for you. Unless you have paid in some 
 money I don't know anything about, you seem to be 
 overdrawn already." 
 
 " 1 will see to that," Louise promised. " The bank 
 manager is such a charming person. Besides, what are 
 banks for but to oblige their clients? How pale you 
 look, little girl! Were you not late last night?" 
 
 Sophy swung round in her place. 
 
 " I am all right. I spent the evening in my rooms 
 and went to bed at eleven o'clock. Who's lunching with 
 you? I see the table is laid for two." 
 
 Louise glanced at the clock upon the mantelpiece. 
 
 " Mr. Strangewey," she replied. *' I suppose he will 
 be here in a minute or two." 
 
 Sophy dropped the housekeeping-book and jumped 
 up. 
 
 " I'd better go, then." 
 
 " Of course not," Louise answered. " You must stay 
 to lunch. Ring the bell and tell them to lay a place for
 
 THE HILLMAN 165 
 
 you. Afterward, if you like, you may come in here and 
 finish brooding over these wretched bills while Mr. 
 Strangewey talks to me." 
 
 Sophy came suddenly across the room and sank on 
 the floor at Louise's feet. 
 
 " What are you going to do about Mr. Strangewey, 
 Louise? " she asked wistfully. 
 
 " What am I going to do about him? " 
 
 *' He is in love with you," Sophy continued. " I am 
 sure I am almost sure of it." 
 
 Louise's laugh was unconvincing. 
 
 " I do not think," she said, " that he quite knows what 
 it means to be in love." 
 
 Sophy suddenly clasped her friend's knees. 
 
 " Dear," she whispered, " perhaps I am a little fool, 
 but tell me, please ! " 
 
 Louise, for a moment, was startled. Then she 
 leaned forward and kissed the eager, upturned face. 
 
 ** You foolish child ! " she exclaimed. " I believe that 
 you have been worrying. Why do you think so much 
 about other people? " 
 
 " Please tell me," Sophy begged. " I want to un- 
 derstand how things really are between you and John 
 Strangewey. Are you in love with him? " 
 
 Louise's eyes were soft and dreamy. 
 
 " I wish I knew," she answered. " If I am, then there 
 are things in life more wonderful than I have ever 
 dreamed of. He doesn't live in our world and our 
 world, as you know, has its grip. He knows nothing 
 about my art, and you can guess what life would be to 
 me without that. What future could there be for him 
 and for me together? I cannot remake myself." 
 
 There was something in Sophy's face which was al- 
 most like wonder.
 
 166 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " So this is the meaning of the change in you, Louise ! 
 I knew that something had happened. You have seemecl 
 so different for the last few months." 
 
 Louise nodded. 
 
 " London has never been the same place to me since 
 I first met him in Cumberland," she admitted. " Some- 
 times I think I am to use your own words in love 
 with John. Sometimes I feel it is just a queer, indis- 
 tinct, but passionate appreciation of the abstract 
 beauty of the life he seems to stand for." 
 
 " Is he really so good, I wonder ? " Sophy asked pen- 
 sively. 
 
 " I do not know," Louise sighed. " I only know that 
 when I first talked to him, he seemed different from any 
 man I have ever spoken with in my life. I suppose 
 there are few temptations up there, and they keep nearer 
 to the big things. Sometimes I wonder, Sophy, if it 
 was not very wrong of me to draw him away from it 
 all!" 
 
 " Rubbish ! " Sophy declared. " If he is good, he 
 can prove it and know it here. He will come to know 
 the truth about himself. Besides, it isn't everything 
 to possess the standard virtues. Louise, he will be here 
 in a minute. You want to be left alone with him. 
 What are you going to say when he asks you what you 
 know he will ask you ? " 
 
 Louise looked down at her. 
 
 " Dear," she said, " I wish I could tell you. I do 
 not krow. That is the strange, troublesome part of 
 it I do not know ! " 
 
 "Will you promise me something?" Sophy begged. 
 '* Promise me that if I stay in here quietly until after 
 he has gone, you will come and tell me ! " 
 
 Louise leaned a little downward as if to look into her
 
 THE HILLMAN 167 
 
 friend's face. Sophy suddenly dropped her eyes, and 
 the color rose to the roots of her hair. There was a 
 knock at the door, and the parlor maid entered. 
 " Mr. Strangewey, madam," she announced.
 
 XIX 
 
 " There can be no possible doubt," Louise remarked, 
 as she unfolded her napkin, " as to our first subject of 
 conversation. Both Sophy and I are simply dying of 
 curiosity to know about the prince's supper party." 
 
 " It was very cheerful and very gay," John said. 
 " Every one seemed to enjoy it very much." 
 
 "Oh, la, la!" Sophy exclaimed. "Is that all you 
 have to tell us ? I shall begin to think that you were up 
 to mischief there." 
 
 " I believe," Louise declared, " that every one of the 
 guests is sworn to secrecy as to what really goes on." 
 
 " I can assure you that I wasn't," John told them. 
 
 " The papers hint at all sorts of things," Sophy con- 
 tinued. " Every one who writes for the penny illus- 
 trated papers parades his whole stock of classical 
 knowledge when he attempts to describe them. We read 
 of the feasts of Lucullus and Bacchanalian orgies. 
 They say that at supper-time you lie about on sofas 
 and feast for four hours at a stretch." 
 
 " The reports seem exaggerated," John laughed. 
 We went in to supper at half past twelve and we came 
 out just before two. We sat on chairs, and the con- 
 versation was quite decorous." 
 
 "This is most disappointing!" Louise murmured. 
 " I cannot think why the prince never invites us." 
 
 " The ladies of his family were not present," John re- 
 marked stiffly.
 
 THE HILLMAN 169 
 
 There was a moment's silence. Louise had looked 
 down at her plate, and Sophy glanced out of the win- 
 dow. 
 
 " Is it true that Calavera was there? " the latter 
 asked presently. 
 
 " Yes, she was there," John replied. " She danced 
 after supper." 
 
 " Oh, you lucky man ! " Louise sighed. " She only 
 dances once or twice a year off the stage. Is she really 
 so wonderful close to ? " 
 
 " She is, in her way, very wonderful," John agreed. 
 
 " Confess that you admired her," Louise persisted. 
 
 " I thought her dancing extraordinary," he confessed, 
 " and, to be truthful, I did admire her. All the same, 
 hers is a hateful gift." 
 
 Louise looked at him curiously for a moment. His 
 face showed few signs of the struggle through which 
 he had passed, but the grim setting of his lips reminded 
 her a little of his brother. He had lost, too, something 
 of the boyishness, the simple light-heartedness of the 
 day before. Instinctively she felt that the battle had 
 begun. She asked him no more about the supper party, 
 and Sophy, quick to follow her lead, also dropped the 
 subject. 
 
 Luncheon was not a lengthy meal, and immediately 
 its service was concluded, Sophy rose to her feet with a 
 sigh. 
 
 " I must go and finish my work," she declared. " Let 
 me have the den to myself for at least an hour, please, 
 Louise. It will take me longer than that to muddle 
 through your books." 
 
 Louise nodded and rose to her feet. 
 
 " We will leave you entirely undisturbed," she 
 promised. " I hope, when you have finished, you will
 
 170 THE HILLMAN 
 
 have something more agreeable to say than you had be- 
 fore lunch. Shall we have our coffee up-stairs ? " she 
 suggested, turning to John. 
 
 " I should like to very much," he replied. " I want 
 to talk to you alone." 
 
 She led the way up-stairs into the cool, white drawing- 
 room, with its flower-perfumed atmosphere and its deli- 
 cate, shadowy air of repose. She curled herself up in a 
 corner of the divan and gave him his coffee. Then she 
 leaned back and looked at him. 
 
 " So you have really come to London, Mr. Country- 
 man!" 
 
 " I have followed you," he answered. " I think you 
 knew that I would. I tried not to," he went on, after a 
 moment's pause. " I fought against it as hard as I 
 could ; but in the end I had to give in." 
 
 " That was very sensible of you," she declared 
 knocking the ash from her cigarette. " There is no use 
 wearing oneself out fighting a hopeless battle. You 
 know now that there are things in life which are not to 
 be found in your passionless corner among the hills. 
 You have realized that you owe a duty to yourself." 
 
 " That was not what brought me," he answered 
 bluntly. " I came for you." 
 
 Louise's capacity for fencing seemed suddenly en- 
 feebled. A frontal attack of such directness was ir- 
 resistible. 
 
 " For me ! " she repeated weakly. 
 
 " Of course," he replied. " None of your arguments 
 would have brought me here. If I have desired to un- 
 derstand this world at all, it is because it is your world. 
 It is you I want don't you understand that? I 
 thought you would know it from the first moment you 
 saw me ! "
 
 THE HILLMAN 171 
 
 He was suddenly on his feet, leaning over her, a 
 changed man, masterful, passionate. She opened her 
 lips, but said nothing. She felt herself lifted up, 
 clasped for a moment in his arms. Unresisting, she 
 felt the fire of his kisses. The world seemed to have 
 stopped. Then she tried to push him away, weakly, 
 and against her own will. At her first movement he 
 laid her tenderly back in her place. 
 
 ** I am sorry ! " he said. " And yet I am not," he 
 added, drawing his chair close up to her side. " I am 
 glad! You knew that I loved you, Louise. You knew 
 that it was for you I had come." 
 
 She was beginning to collect herself. Her brain was 
 at work again ; but she was conscious of a new confusion 
 in her senses, a new element in her life. She was no 
 longer sure of herself. 
 
 " Listen," she begged earnestly. " Be reasonable ! 
 How could I marry you? Do you think that I could 
 live with you up there in the hills ? " 
 
 " We will live," he promised, " anywhere you choose 
 in the world." 
 
 " Ah, no ! " she continued, patting his hand. " You 
 know what your life is, the things you want in life. You 
 don't know mine yet. There is my work. You cannot 
 think how wonderful it is to me. You don't know the 
 things that fill my brain from day to day, the thoughts 
 that direct my life. I cannot marry you just be- 
 cause because " 
 
 " Because what? " he interrupted eagerly. 
 
 " Because you make me feel something I don't un- 
 derstand, because you come and you turn the world, for 
 a few minutes, topsyturvy. But that is all foolishness, 
 isn't it? Life isn't built up of emotions. What I want 
 you to understand, and what you, please, must under-
 
 172 THE HILLMAN 
 
 stand, is that at present our lives are so far, so very far, 
 apart. I do not feel I could be happy leading yours, 
 and you do not understand mine." 
 
 " I have come to find out about yours," John ex- 
 plained. " That is why I am here. Perhaps I ought 
 to have waited a little time before I spoke to you as I 
 did just now. Come, you can forget what I have said 
 and done; but to me it will be an everlasting joy. I 
 shall treasure the memory of it. It will help me I 
 can't tell you quite in what way it will help me. But 
 for the rest, I will serve my apprenticeship. I will try 
 to get into sympathy with the things that please you. 
 It will not take me long. As soon as you feel that we 
 are drawing closer together, I will ask you again what 
 I have asked you this afternoon. In the meantime, I 
 may be your friend, may I not? You will let me see a 
 great deal of you? You will help me just a little? " 
 
 Louise leaned back in her chair. She had been car- 
 ried off her feet, brought face to face with emotions 
 which she dared not analyze. Perhaps, after all her 
 self-dissection, there were still secret chambers. She 
 thought almost with fear of what they might contain. 
 Her sense of superiority was vanishing. She was, after 
 all, like other women. 
 
 " Yes," she promised, " I will help. We will leave it 
 at that. Some day you shall talk to me again, if you 
 like. In the meantime, remember we are both free. 
 You have not known many women, and you may change 
 your mind when you have been longer in London. Per- 
 haps it will be better for you if you do ! " 
 
 " That is quite impossible," John said firmly. " You 
 see," he went on, looking at her with shining eyes, " I 
 know now what I half believed from the first moment 
 that I saw you. I love you ! "
 
 THE HILLMAN 173 
 
 Springing restlessly to her feet, she walked across the 
 room and back again. Action of some sort seemed im- 
 perative. A curious hypnotic feeling seemed to be dull- 
 ing all her powers of resistance. She looked into her 
 life and she was terrified. Everything had grown in- 
 significant. It couldn't really be possible that with her 
 brains, her experience, this man who had dwelt all his 
 life in the simple ways had yet the power to show her the 
 path toward the greater things ! 
 
 Through the complex web of emotions which made up 
 her temperament there suddenly sprang a primitive in- 
 stinct, the primitive instinct of all women, rebelling 
 against the first touch of a master's hand. Was she to 
 find herself wrong and this man right? Was she to 
 submit, to accept from his hand the best gifts of life 
 she who had looked for them in such very high, such 
 very inaccessible places? 
 
 She felt like a child again. She trembled a little as 
 she sat down by his side. It was not in this fashion 
 that she had intended to hear what he had to say. 
 
 " I don't know what is the matter with me to-day," 
 she murmured distractedly. " I think I must send you 
 away. You disturb my thoughts. I can't see life 
 clearly. Don't hope for too much from me," she 
 begged. '* But don't go away," she added, with a sud- 
 den irresistible impulse of anxiety. " Oh, I wish I 
 wish you understood me and everything about me, with- 
 out my having to say a word ! " 
 
 " I feel what you are," he answered, *' and that is 
 sufficient." 
 
 Once more she rose to her feet and walked across to 
 the window. An automobile had stopped in the street 
 below. She looked down upon it with a sudden frozen 
 feeling of apprehension.
 
 174 THE HILLMAN 
 
 John moved to her side, and for him, too, the joy of 
 those few moments was clouded. A little shiver of pre- 
 sentiment took its place. He recognized the footman 
 whom he saw standing upon the pavement. 
 
 " It is the Prince of Seyre," Louise faltered. 
 
 " Must you see him ? " John muttered. 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 " Send him away," John begged. " We haven't 
 finished yet. I won't say anything more to upset you. 
 What I want now is some practical guidance." 
 
 " I cannot send him away ! " 
 
 John glanced toward her and hated himself for his 
 fierce jealousy. She was looking very white and very 
 pathetic. The light had gone from her eyes. He felt 
 suddenly dominant, and, with that feeling, there came 
 all the generosity of the conqueror. 
 
 " Good-by ! " he said. " Perhaps I can see you some 
 time to-morrow." 
 
 He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers,, 
 one by one. Then he left the room. She listened to 
 his footsteps descending the stairs, firm, resolute, de- 
 liberate. They paused, there was a sound of voices 
 the prince and he were exchanging greetings ; then she 
 heard other footsteps ascending, lighter, smoother, yet 
 just as deliberate. 
 
 Her face grew paler as she listened. There was 
 something which sounded to her almost like the beating 
 of fate in the slow, inevitable approach of this unseen 
 visitor.
 
 XX 
 
 Henri Graillot had made himself thoroughly comfort- 
 able. He was ensconced in the largest of John's easy 
 chairs, his pipe in his mouth, a recently refilled teacup 
 Graillot was English in nothing except his predilec- 
 tion for tea on the small table by his side. Through 
 a little cloud of tobacco-smoke he was studying his host. 
 
 " So you call yourself a Londoner now, my young 
 friend, I suppose," he remarked, taking pensive note of 
 John's fashionable clothes. " It is a transformation, 
 beyond a doubt ! Is it, I wonder, upon the surface only, 
 or have you indeed become heart and soul a son of this 
 corrupt city?" 
 
 " Whatever I may have become," John grumbled, 
 " it's meant three months of the hardest work I've ever 
 done!" 
 
 Graillot held out his pipe in front of him and blew* 
 away a dense cloud of smoke. 
 
 " Explain yourself," he insisted. 
 
 John stood on the hearth-rug, with his hands in his 
 pockets. His morning clothes were exceedingly well- 
 cut, his tie and collar unexceptionable, his hf,ir closely 
 cropped according to the fashion of the moment. He 
 had an extremely civilized air. 
 
 " Look here, Graillot," he said, " I'll tell you what 
 I've done, although I don't suppose you would under- 
 stand what it means to me. I've visited practically 
 every theater in London."
 
 176 THE HILLMAN 
 
 "Alone?" 
 
 " Sometimes with Miss Maurel, sometimes with her 
 little friend, Sophy Gerard, and sometimes alone," John 
 replied. " I have bought a Baedeker, taken a taxicab 
 by the day, and done all the sights. I've spent weeks in 
 the National Gallery, picture-gazing, and I've done all 
 those more modern shows up round Bond Street. I 
 have bought a racing-car and learned to drive it. I 
 have been to dinner parties that have bored me stiff. 
 I have been introduced to crowds of people whom I 
 never wish to see again, and made one or two friends," 
 he added, smiling at his guest, " for whom I hope I am 
 properly grateful." 
 
 " The prince has been showing you round a bit, hasn't 
 he? " Graillot grunted. 
 
 " The prince has been extraordinarily kind to me," 
 John admitted slowly, " for what reason I don't know. 
 He has introduced me to a great many pleasant and in- 
 teresting people, and a great many whom I suppose a 
 young man in my position should be glad to know. He 
 has shown me one side of London life pretty thor- 
 oughly." 
 
 "And what about it all?" Graillot demanded. 
 *' You find yourself something more of a citizen of the 
 world, eh ? " 
 
 " Not a bit," John answered simply. " The more I 
 see of the life up here, the smaller it seems to me. I 
 mean, of course, the ordinary life of pleasure, the life to 
 be lived by a young man like myself, who hasn't any 
 profession or work upon which he can concentrate his 
 thoughts." 
 
 " Then why do you stay ? '* 
 
 John made no immediate reply. Instead, he walked 
 to the window of his sitting room and stood looking out
 
 THE HILLMAN 177 
 
 across the Thames with a discontented frown upon his 
 face. Between him and the Frenchman a curious 
 friendship had sprung up during the last few months. 
 
 " Tell me, then," Graillot continued, taking a bite 
 from his piece of cake and shaking the crumbs from his 
 waistcoat, " what do you find in London to compensate 
 you for the things you miss? You are cooped up here 
 in this little flat you, who are used to large rooms 
 and open spaces ; you have given up your exercise, your 
 sports for what? " 
 
 " I get some exercise," John protested. " I play 
 rackets at Ranelagh most mornings, and I bought a 
 couple of hacks and ride occasionally in the park before 
 you're out of bed." 
 
 " That's all right for exercise," Graillot observed. 
 " What about amusements ? " 
 
 " Well, I've joined a couple of clubs. One's rather a 
 swagger sort of place the prince got me in there ; and 
 then I belong to the Lambs, where you yourself go some- 
 times. I generally look in at one or the other of them 
 during the evening." 
 
 " You see much of Miss Maurel ? " 
 
 John shook his head gloomily. 
 
 " Not as much as I should like," he confessed. " She 
 seems to think and dream of nothing but this play 
 of yours. I am hoping that when it is once produced 
 she will be more free." 
 
 " I gather," Graillot concluded, " that, to put it con- 
 cisely and truthfully, you are the most bored man in 
 London. There is something behind all this effort of 
 yours, my friend, to fit yourself, the round human being, 
 into the square place. Speak the truth, now! Treat 
 me as a father confessor." 
 
 John swung round upon his heel. In the clear light
 
 178 THE HILLMAN 
 
 it was obvious that he was a little thinner in the face and 
 that some of the tan had gone from his complexion. 
 
 " I am staying up here, and going on with it," he 
 announced doggedly, " because of a woman." 
 
 Graillot stopped eating, placed the remains of his 
 cake in the saucer of his teacup, and laid it down. Then 
 he leaned back in his chair and balanced his finger-tips 
 one against the other. 
 
 " A woman ! " he murmured. " How you astonish 
 me!" 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Candor is so good," Graillot continued, " so stimu- 
 lating to the moral system. It is absolute candor which 
 has made friends of two people so far apart in most 
 ways as you and myself. You surprise me simply be- 
 cause of your reputation." 
 
 " What about my reputation ? " 
 
 Graillot smiled benignly. 
 
 " In France," he observed, " you would probably be 
 offered your choice of lunatic asylums. Here your 
 weakness seems to have made you rather the vogue." 
 
 "What weakness?" 
 
 " It is to a certain extent hearsay, I must admit," 
 Graillot proceeded ; " but the report about you is that, 
 although you have had some of the most beautiful 
 women in London almost offer themselves to you, you 
 still remain without a mistress." 
 
 " What in the world do you mean ? " John demanded. 
 
 " I mean," Graillot explained frankly, " that for a 
 young man of your age, your wealth, and your appear- 
 ance to remain free from any feminine entanglement is 
 a thing unheard of in my country, and, I should imag- 
 ine, rare in yours. It is not so that young men were 
 made when I was young ! "
 
 THE HILLMAN 179 
 
 " I don't happen to want a mistress," John remarked, 
 lighting a cigarette. " I want a wife." 
 
 " But meanwhile " 
 
 " You can call me a fool, if you like," John inter- 
 rupted. " I may be one, I suppose, from your point 
 of view. All I know is that I want to be able to offer 
 the woman whom I marry, and who I hope will be the 
 mother of my children, precisely what she offers me. I 
 want a fair bargain, from her point of view as well as 
 mine." 
 
 Graillot, who had been refilling his pipe, stopped and 
 glowered at his host. 
 
 " What exactly do you mean ? " he asked. 
 
 " Surely my meaning is plain enough," John replied. 
 " We all have our peculiar tastes and our eccentricities. 
 One of mine has to do with the other sex. I cannot 
 make an amusement of them. It is against all my 
 prejudices." 
 
 Graillot carefully completed the refilling of his pipe 
 and lit it satisfactorily. Then he turned once more to 
 John. 
 
 " Let us not be mistaken," he said. " You are a pur- 
 ist!" 
 
 " You can call me what you like," John retorted. 
 " I do not believe in one law for the woman and another 
 for the man. If a man wants a woman, and we all do 
 more or less, it seems to me that he ought to wait until 
 he finds one whom he is content to make the mother of 
 his children." 
 
 Graillot nodded ponderously. 
 
 " Something like this I suspected," he admitted. " I 
 felt that there was something extraordinary and un- 
 usual about you. If I dared, my young friend, I would 
 write a play about you ; but then no one would believe
 
 i8o THE HILLMAN 
 
 it. Now tell me something. I have heard your princi- 
 ples. We are face to face men, brothers, and 
 friends. Do you live up to them? " 
 
 " I have always done so," John declared. 
 
 Graillot was silent for several moments. Then he 
 opened his lips to speak and abruptly closed them. 
 His face suddenly underwent an extraordinary change. 
 A few seconds ago his attitude had been that of a pro- 
 fessor examining some favorite object of study; now a 
 more personal note had humanized his expression. 
 Whatever thought or reflection it was that had come 
 into his mind, it had plainly startled him. 
 
 " Who is the woman ? " he asked breathlessly. 
 
 " There is no secret about it, so far as I am con- 
 cerned," John answered. " It is Louise Maurel. I 
 thought you must have guessed." 
 
 The two men looked at each other in silence for some 
 moments. Out on the river a little tug was hooting 
 vigorously. The roar of the Strand came faintly into 
 the room. Upon the mantelpiece a very ornate French 
 clock was ticking lightly. All these sounds seemed 
 suddenly accentuated. They beat time to a silence al- 
 most tragical in its intensity. 
 
 Graillot took out his handkerchief and dabbed his 
 forehead. He had written many plays, and the dra- 
 matic instinct was strongly developed in him. 
 
 " Louise ! " he muttered under his breath. 
 
 " She is very different, I know," John went on, after 
 a moment's hesitation. " She is very clever and a 
 great artist, and she lives in an atmosphere of which, a 
 few months ago, I knew nothing. I have come up here 
 to try to understand, to try to get a little nearer to 
 her." 
 
 There was another silence, this time almost an
 
 THE HILLMAN 181 
 
 awkward one. Then Graillot rose suddenly to his 
 feet. 
 
 " I will respect your confidence," he promised, hold- 
 ing out his hand. " Have no fear of that. I am due 
 now at the theater. Your tea is excellent, and such 
 little cakes I never tasted before." 
 
 " You will wish me good luck ? " 
 
 " No ! " 
 
 " Why not? " John demanded, a little startled. 
 
 " Because," Graillot pronounced, " from what I have 
 seen and know of you both, there are no two people in 
 this world less suitable for each other." 
 
 " Look here," John expostulated, " I don't want you 
 to go away thinking so. You don't understand what 
 this means to me." 
 
 " Perhaps not, my friend," Graillot replied, " but re- 
 member that it is at least my trade to understand men 
 and women. I have known Louise Maurel since she was 
 a child." 
 
 " Then it is I whom you don't understand." 
 
 '* That may be so," Graillot confessed. " One makes 
 mistakes. Let us leave it at that. You are a young 
 man of undeveloped temperament. You may be capa- 
 ble of much which at present I do not find in you." 
 
 " Tell me the one quality in which you consider me 
 most lacking," John begged. " You think that I am 
 narrow, too old-fashioned in my views? Perhaps I am, 
 but, on the other hand, I am very anxious to learn and 
 absorb all that is best in this wider life. You can't 
 really call me prejudiced. I hated the stage before I 
 came to London, but during the last few months no one 
 has been a more assiduous theatergoer. I understand 
 better than I did, and my views are immensely modified. 
 I admit that Louise is a great artist, I admit that she
 
 i82 THE HILLMAN 
 
 has wonderful talents. I am even willing, if she wished 
 it, to allow her to remain for a time upon the stage. 
 What could I say more? I want you on my side, Grail- 
 lot." 
 
 " And I," Graillot replied, as he shook his friend's 
 hand and hurried off, " want only to be on the side that 
 will mean happiness for you both." 
 
 He left the room a little abruptly. John walked 
 back to the window, oppressed with a sense of something 
 almost ominous in the Frenchman's manner, something 
 which he could not fathom, against which he struggled 
 in vain. Side by side with it, there surged into his mem- 
 ory the disquietude which his present relations with 
 Louise had developed. She was always charming when 
 she had any time to spare sometimes almost affec- 
 tionate. On the other hand, he was profoundly con- 
 scious of her desire to keep him at arm's length for the 
 present. 
 
 He had accepted her decision without a murmur. 
 He made but few efforts to see her alone, and when they 
 met he made no special claim upon her notice. He was 
 serving his apprenticeship doggedly and faithfully. Yet 
 there were times like the present when he found his task 
 both hateful and difficult. 
 
 He walked aimlessly backward and forward, chafing 
 against the restraint of the narrow walls and the low 
 ceiling. A sudden desire had seized him to fly back to 
 the hills, wreathed in mist though they might be; to 
 struggle on his way through the blinding rain, to drink 
 down long gulps of his own purer, less civilized atmos- 
 phere. 
 
 The telephone-bell rang. He placed the receiver to 
 his ear almost mechanically. 
 
 "Who is it?" he asked.
 
 THE.HILLMAN 183 
 
 "Lady Hilda Mulloch is asking for you, sir," the 
 hall-porter announced. 
 
 Lady Hilda peered around John's room through her 
 lorgnette, and did not hesitate to express her dissatis- 
 faction. 
 
 " My dear man," she exclaimed, " what makes you 
 live in a hotel? Why don't you take rooms of your own 
 and furnish them? Surroundings like these are de- 
 structive to one's individuality." 
 
 " Well, you see," John explained, as he drew an easy 
 chair up to the fire for his guest, " my stay in London 
 is only a temporary one, and it hasn't seemed worth 
 while to settle anywhere." 
 
 She stretched out her graceful body in front of the 
 fire and raised her veil. She was very smartly dressed, 
 as usual. Her white-topped boots and white silk stock- 
 ings, which she seemed to have no objection to display- 
 ing, were of the latest vogue. The chinchilla around 
 her neck and in her little toque was most becoming. 
 She seemed to bring with her an atmosphere indefinable, 
 in its way, but distinctly attractive. Brisk in her 
 speech, a little commanding in her manner, she was still 
 essentially feminine. 
 
 John, at her direct invitation, had called upon her 
 once or twice since their meeting at the opera, and he 
 had found her, from the first, more attractive than any 
 other society woman of his acquaintance. None the 
 less, he was a little taken aback at her present visit. 
 
 " Exactly why are you here, anyhow ? " she de- 
 manded. " I feel sure that Eugene told me the reason 
 which had brought you from your wilds, but I have for- 
 gotten it." 
 
 " For one thing," John replied, " I have come be
 
 i8 4 THE HILLMAN 
 
 cause I don't want to appear prejudiced, and the fact 
 that I had never spent a month in London, or even a 
 week, seemed a little narrow-minded." 
 
 "What's the real attraction?" Lady Hilda asked. 
 " It is a woman, isn't it? " 
 
 " I am very fond of a woman who is in London," Joh-j 
 admitted. " Perhaps it is true that I am here on her 
 account." 
 
 Lady Hilda withdrew from her muff a gold cigarette- 
 case and a little box of matches. 
 
 " Order some mixed vermuth with lemon for me, 
 please," she begged. " I have been shopping, and I 
 hate tea. I don't know why I came to see you. I sud- 
 denly thought of it when I was in Bond Street." 
 
 " It was very kind of you," John said. ** If I had 
 known that you cared about seeing me, I would have 
 come to you with pleasure.'* 
 
 "What does it matter?" she answered. "You are 
 thinking, perhaps, that I risk my reputation in coming 
 to a young man's rooms? Those things do not count 
 for me. Ever since I was a child I have done exactly 
 as I liked, and people have shrugged their shoulders and 
 said, ' Ah, well, it is only Lady Hilda ! ' I have been 
 six months away from civilization, big-game shooting, 
 and haven't seen a white woman. It didn't matter, be- 
 cause it was I. I traveled around the world with a most 
 delightful man who was writing a book, but it didn't 
 affect my reputation in the slightest. I am quite con- 
 vinced that if I chose to take you off to Monte Carlo 
 with me next week and spend a month with you there, I 
 should get my pass to the royal enclosure at Ascot 
 when I returned, and my invitation to the next court 
 ball, even in this era of starch. You see, they would 
 say, It is only Lady Hilda ! ' "
 
 THE HILLMAN 185 
 
 The waiter brought the vermuth, which his visitor 
 sipped contentedly. 
 
 " So there is a woman, is there ? " she went on, look- 
 ing across the room at her companion. " Have you 
 committed yourself already, then? Don't you remem- 
 ber what I told you the first night we met after the 
 opera that it is well to wait ? " 
 
 " Yes, I remember," John admitted. 
 
 " I meant it." 
 
 He laughed good-humoredly, yet not without some 
 trace of self-consciousness. 
 
 " The mischief was done then," he said. 
 
 " Couldn't it be undone? " she asked lazily. " Or 
 are you one of those tedious people who are faithful 
 forever? Fidelity," she continued, knocking the ash 
 from her cigarette, " is really, to my mind, the most 
 bourgeois of vices. It comes from a want of elasticity 
 in the emotional fibres. Nothing in life has bored me 
 so much as the faithfulness of my lovers." 
 
 " You ought to put all this into one of your books," 
 John suggested. 
 
 " I probably shall, when I write my reminiscences," 
 she replied. " Tell me about this woman. And don't 
 stand about in that restless way at the other end of the 
 room. Bring a chair close to me there, close to my 
 side ! " 
 
 John obeyed, and his visitor contemplated him 
 thoughtfully through a little cloud of tobacco-smoke. 
 
 " Yes," she decided, " there is no use denying it. 
 You are hatefully good-looking, and somehow or other I 
 think your clothes have improved you. You have a lit- 
 tle more air than when you first came to town. Are 
 you quite sure that you haven't made up your mind 
 about this woman in a hurry? "
 
 i86 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " Quite sure," John laughed. " I suppose I am 
 rather an idiot, but I am addicted to the vice of which 
 you were speaking." 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " I should imagine," she said, " that you were not an 
 adept in the art of flirtation. Is it true that the 
 woman is Louise Maurel? " 
 
 " Quite true," John replied. 
 
 " But don't you know " 
 
 She broke off abruptly. She saw the face of the man 
 by her side suddenly change, and her instinct warned 
 her of the danger into which she was rushing. 
 
 " You surprise me very much," she said. " Louise 
 Maurel is a very wonderful woman, but she seems to 
 spend the whole of her time with my cousin, the prince." 
 
 " They are, without doubt, very friendly," John as- 
 sented. " They have a good many interests in common, 
 and the prince is connected with the syndicate which 
 finances the theater. I do not imagine, however, that 
 the prince wishes to marry her, or she him." 
 
 Lady Hilda began to laugh, softly, but as if genu- 
 inely amused. John sat and watched her in ominous 
 silence. Not the flicker of a smile parted his set lips. 
 His visitor, however, was undisturbed. She leaned over 
 and patted his hand. 
 
 " Simple Simon ! " she murmured, leaning a little to- 
 ward him. " If you go looking like that, I shall pat 
 your cheeks, too. You are really much too nice-look- 
 ing to wear such thunderclouds ! " 
 
 *' Perhaps if we chose some other subject of conversa- 
 tion " John said stiffly. 
 
 " Oh, dear me ! " she interrupted. " Very well ! You 
 really are a most trying person, you know. I put up 
 with a great deal from you."
 
 THE HILLMAN 187 
 
 John was silent. Her face darkened a little, and aji 
 angry light flashed in her eyes. 
 
 " Well, I'll leave you alone, if you like," she decided, 
 tossing her cigarette into the grate. " If my friend- 
 ship isn't worth having, let it go. It hasn't often been 
 offered in vain. There are more men in London than I 
 could count who would go down on their knees for such 
 a visit as I am paying you. And you you," she 
 added, with a little tremble of real anger in her tone, 
 " you're too hatefully polite and priggish ! Come and 
 ring the bell for the lift. I am going ! " 
 
 She slid gracefully to her feet, shook the cigarette ash 
 from her clothes, and picked up her muff. 
 
 " You really are an egregious, thick-headed, obstinate 
 countryman," she declared, as she moved toward the 
 door. " You haven't either manners or sensibility. I 
 am a perfect idiot to waste my time upon you. I 
 wouldn't have done it," she added, as he followed her 
 dumbly down the corridor, " if I hadn't rather liked 
 you!" 
 
 " I am very sorry," he declared. " I don't know 
 quite what I have done. I do appreciate your friend- 
 ship. You have been very kind to me indeed." 
 
 She hesitated as his finger touched the bell of the lift, 
 and glanced at the watch on her wrist. 
 
 " Well," she said, " if you want to be friends, I will 
 give you one last chance. I am doing what sounds 
 rather a ghastly thing I am having a little week-end 
 party down at my cottage at Bourne End. It will be 
 rather like camping out, but some interesting people are 
 coming. Will you motor down on Saturday evening 
 and stay till Sunday night or Monday? " 
 
 " I shall be very pleased indeed," John replied. " It 
 is very good of you to ask me. When I come, I'd like,
 
 i88 THE HILLMAN 
 
 if I may," he went on, " to tell you about myself, and 
 why I am here, and about Louise." 
 
 She sighed, and watched the top of the lift as it came 
 up. Then she dropped her veil. 
 
 " You will find me," she assured him, as she gave him 
 the tips of her fingers, " a most sympathetic listener." 
 
 Louise and Sophy came to dine that evening with 
 John in the grill-room at the Milan. They arrived a 
 little late and were still in morning clothes. Louise was 
 looking pale and tired, and her greeting was almost list- 
 less. 
 
 " We are dead beat," Sophy exclaimed. " We've 
 been having a secret rehearsal this afternoon without 
 Graillot, and he came in just as we were finishing. He 
 was perfectly furious ! " 
 
 " He was here to tea with me," John remarked, as he 
 led the way to their table. 
 
 " My dear man," Louise exclaimed, " if you could 
 have kept him half an hour longer you'd have earned 
 our undying gratitude 1 You see, there are several lit- 
 tle things on which we shall never agree, he and myself 
 and the rest of the company ; so we decided to run over 
 certain passages in the way we intend to do them, with- 
 out him. Of course, he saw through it all when he ar- 
 rived, tore up his manuscript on the stage, and gen- 
 erally behaved like a madman." 
 
 " I am sorry," John said, as they took their seats 
 and he handed Louise the menu of the dinner that he 
 had ordered. " Won't the play be produced to-mor- 
 row night, then ? " 
 
 " Oh, it will be produced all right," Louise told him ; 
 '* but you don't know how we've all worn ourselves out, 
 trying to make tha f old bear see reason. We've had to
 
 THE HILLMAN 189 
 
 give way on one scene, as it is. What a delightful lit- 
 tle dinner, John ! You're spoiling us. You know how 
 I love that big white asparagus. And strawberries, 
 too ! Well, I think we've earned it anyhow, Sophy ! " 
 
 " You have," the latter declared. " You were the 
 only one who could soothe Graillot at all." 
 
 " I can get my way with most people," Louise re- 
 marked languidly ; " but it simply means that the more 
 difficult they are, the more you have to spend yourself 
 in getting it. John," she went on, after a moment's 
 pause, "you are coming to-morrow night, I sup- 
 pose? " 
 
 " Of course. Didn't I take my box two months 
 ago ? " 
 
 " And now that my part after the first act has been 
 cut out, I am coming with him," Sophy put in. "I 
 may, mayn't I ? " 
 
 " Of course," John assented. 
 
 Louise sighed dejectedly. 
 
 "I am not at all sure that I shall like having you 
 there," she said. " I shouldn't be at all surprised if it 
 made me nervous." 
 
 He laughed incredulously. 
 
 " It's all very well," she went on, watching the cham- 
 pagne poured in to her glass, " but you won't like the 
 play, you know." 
 
 " Perhaps I sha'n't understand it altogether," John 
 agreed. " It's very subtle, and, as you know, I don't 
 find problem plays of that sort particularly attractive ; 
 but with you in it, you can't imagine that I sha'n't find 
 it interesting ! " 
 
 " We were talking about it, coming up in the taxi," 
 Louise continued, " and we came to the conclusion that 
 you'd hate it. We've had to give way to Graillot with
 
 'igo THE HILLMAN 
 
 regard to the last act. Of course, there is really noth- 
 ing in it, but I don't know just what you will say." 
 
 " Well, you needn't be afraid that I shall stand up 
 in my box and order the performance to cease," John 
 assured them, smiling. " Besides, I am not quite such 
 an idiot, Louise. I know very well that you may have 
 to say and do things on the stage which in private life 
 would offend your taste and your sense of dignity. I 
 am quite reconciled to that. I am prepared to accept 
 everything you do and everything that you say. 
 [There! I can't say more than that, can I? " 
 
 Louise smiled at him almost gratefully. She drew 
 her hand over his, caressingly. 
 
 [ " You are a dear ! " she declared. " You've really 
 made me feel much more comfortable. Now please tell 
 me what you have been doing all day." 
 
 " Well, Graillot came in and spent most of the after- 
 noon," John answered. " Since then, Lady Hilda Mul- 
 loch has been here." 
 
 Louise looked up quickly. 
 
 " What, here in your rooms ? " 
 
 " I didn't ask her," John said. " I have been to see 
 her once or twice, and she has been very nice, but I 
 never dreamed of her coming here." 
 
 " Shameless hussy ! " Sophy exclaimed, as she set 
 down her wine-glass. " Didn't you tell her that Louise 
 and I are the only two women in London who have the 
 entree to your rooms ? " 
 
 " I am afraid it didn't occur to me to tell her that," 
 'John confessed, smiling. " All the same, I was sur- 
 prised to see her. It was just a whim, I think." 
 
 " She is a clever woman," Louise sighed. " She won't 
 know me I can't imagine why. She is a cousin of the 
 prince, too, you know."
 
 THE HILLMAN 191 
 
 " She is very amusing," John agreed. " I have met 
 some interesting people at her house, too. She has 
 asked me down to Bourne End for this next week-end 
 the week-end you are spending with Mrs. Faraday," he 
 continued, glancing toward Louise. 
 
 Louise nodded. She looked at John critically. 
 
 " Quite a success in town, isn't he ? " she remarked to 
 Sophy. " People tumble over one another to get invi- 
 tations for her week-end parties in the season. I must 
 say I never heard of going down to Bourne End in Feb- 
 ruary, though." 
 
 " The idea seemed rather pleasant to me," John con- 
 fessed. " So many of you people know nothing of the 
 country except just in the summer ! " 
 
 " If John gets talking about the country," Louise 
 said, " we shall not be allowed our proper share in the 
 conversation for the rest of the evening. The question 
 is, are we to allow him to go down to Bourne End? 
 Lady Hilda isn't exactly a Puritan where your sex is 
 concerned, you know, John." 
 
 " She'll expect you to flirt with her," Sophy in- 
 sisted. 
 
 " She won't," John replied. " I have told her that 
 I am in love with Louise." 
 
 " Was there ever such a man in the world ? " Louise 
 exclaimed. " Tell me, what did Lady Hilda say to 
 that?" 
 
 " Not much," he answered. " She suggested that 
 her cousin had a prior claim on you." 
 
 Louise laid down her knife and fork. Her left hand 
 clutched the piece of toast which was lying by her side. 
 She began to crumble it up into small pieces. 
 
 " What did Lady Hilda say exactly ? " she insisted. 
 
 " Nothing much," John replied. " She seemed sur-
 
 iga THE HILLMAN 
 
 prised when I mentioned your name. I asked her why, 
 and she told me, or rather she hinted, that you and the 
 prince are very great friends." 
 
 " Anything more? " 
 
 " Nothing at all. I pointed out that the prince is in- 
 terested in theatrical affairs, and that he is the chief 
 member of the syndicate that runs the theaters. She 
 seemed to understand." 
 
 There was a brief silence. Louise was once more 
 looking a little tired. She changed the subject 
 abruptly, and only returned to it when John was driv- 
 ing home with her. 
 
 " Do you know," she said, after a long silence, " I 
 am not at all sure that I want you to go to Lady Hil- 
 da's!" 
 
 " Then I won't," he promised with alacrity. " I'll do 
 just as you say." 
 
 Louise sat quite still, thinking, looking through the 
 rain-splashed windows of the taxicab. 
 
 "You have only to say the word," John continued. 
 " I should be flattered to think that you cared." 
 
 " It isn't that. Lady Hilda is very clever, and she 
 is used to having her own way. I am afraid ! " 
 
 "Afraid of what?" 
 
 " Of nothing," Louise declared suddenly. " Go, by 
 all means, John. I am simply a little idiot when I give 
 way for a moment to such poisonous thoughts. Lady 
 Hilda can say what she likes about anybody or any- 
 thing. It really doesn't matter at all whether you go 
 to Bourne End or not." 
 
 " I don't quite understand you," John confessed ; 
 * but if you mean that you are afraid of anything Lady 
 .Hilda might say to me about you, why, I feel inclined 
 to laugh at you. Lady Hilda," he added, with a touch
 
 THE HILLMAN 193 
 
 of intuition, " is far too clever a woman to make such a 
 mistake." 
 
 " I believe you are right," Louise agreed. " I shall 
 pin my faith to Lady Hilda's cleverness and to your 
 fidelity. Go and spend your week-end there, by all 
 means. I only wish I wasn't bound to go to the Fara- 
 days', but that can't possibly be helped. Come and 
 lunch with me on Monday," she added impulsively. " It 
 seems a long time since we had a little talk together." 
 
 He suddenly held her to him, and she met his lips un- 
 resistingly. It was the first time he had even attempted 
 anything of the sort for months. 
 
 " You are a dear, John," she said, a little wistfully. 
 " I am terribly divided in my thoughts about you. Just 
 now I feel that I have only one wish that I could give 
 you all that you want, all that you deserve ! " 
 
 He was very loverlike. She was once more a slight, 
 quivering thing in his arms. 
 
 " Why need we wait any longer ? " he begged. " If 
 we told everyone to-night to-morrow the Fara- 
 days would not expect you to keep your engagement." 
 
 She shook herself free from him, but her smile was 
 almost a compensation. The taxicab had stopped op- 
 posite her door, and her servant came hurrying out. 
 
 " Until Monday ! " she murmured.
 
 XXI 
 
 Early on the following morning John glided out of 
 Ixmdon in his two-seated racing-car, on his way to 
 'Bourne End. The white mist that hung over the 
 Streets and parks and obscured the sky passed away as 
 he left the suburbs behind him. With his first glimpse 
 of the country came a welcome change. There were 
 little flecks of blue in the firmament above him, a distinct 
 if somewhat watery sunshine, and a soft buoyancy in 
 the air, almost an anticipation of spring. 
 
 John leaned back in his seat, filled with an unexpected 
 sense of contentment. After all, this week-end visit 
 would probably turn out to be pleasant enough, and on 
 Monday night the play was to be produced at last. He 
 felt that for weeks Louise had been living in an atmos- 
 phere of high tension. He himself had begun to realize 
 the nervous excitement of a first night, when the work 
 of many months is at last presented in its concrete 
 form. He was content to believe that all that had de- 
 pressed him in Louise's demeanor had been due to this 
 ause to anxiety about her success, to the artistic 
 (dissatisfaction evolved by the struggle between her de- 
 sire to conform to the prejudices of the critics and her 
 wish to present truthfully the work of the great French 
 dramatist. Once it was all over and the verdict given, 
 relaxation would come. He was content to wait. 
 
 He had no trouble in finding Lady Hilda's cottage 
 in Bourne End a long, white bungalow-looking build-
 
 THE HILLMAN 195 
 
 ing, surrounded by a little stream which led down to the 
 river. A man servant took his dressing case from the 
 back of the car and showed him the way to the garage. 
 Lady Hilda herself came strolling up the lawn and 
 waved her hand. 
 
 " Now what about my week-end on the river? " she 
 exclaimed, as they shook hands. " Isn't it delightful ? 
 I have ordered lunch early do you mind ? and I 
 thought, if you felt energetic, it's not too cold for you 
 to take me out on the river ; or, if you feel lazy, I'll take 
 you." 
 
 " I am not much of an oarsman," John told her, 
 " but I certainly won't ask you to pull me about ! " 
 
 She led him into the little dining room and answered 
 the question in his eyes when he saw the table laid for 
 two. 
 
 " Colonel and Mrs. Dauncey are coming down this 
 afternoon," she said, " and my brother Fred will be here 
 in time for dinner. I wired to Mrs. Henderson the 
 woman who writes novels, you know to come down, 
 too, if she can, but I haven't heard from her. I have 
 been looking at the river this morning, and it's almost 
 like glass ; and I can see little specks of green in the 
 flower-beds where my bulbs are coming up. Richards 
 will show you your room now, if you like, and we'll have 
 lunch in ten minutes." 
 
 John found his cottage bedroom, with its view of the 
 river, delightful, and at luncheon Lady Hilda showed 
 him the side of herself that he liked best. She talked of 
 her travels, and of big-game shooting. Afterward they 
 sauntered out to the stream, and John, selecting the 
 more stable of the two boats moored to the little land- 
 ing-stage, pulled out into the river. Lady Hilda, in a 
 fur coat, leaned back on a pile of cushions and watched
 
 ig6 THE HILLMAN 
 
 him, with a cigarette between her lips. He found the 
 exercise stimulating and delightful. Some of the color 
 which he had lost came back to his cheeks. 
 
 " Aren't you sorry," she asked him once, as they 
 paused to look across a vista of green meadows toward 
 a distant range of hills, " for the people who see noth- 
 ing in the country except in summer? Look at those 
 lines of bare, sad trees, the stillness of it all, and yet 
 the softness ; and think what it will soon be, think what 
 there is underneath, ready to burst into life as the weeks 
 go on! I always come down here early, just to watch 
 the coming of springtime. That wood to our left, with 
 its bare, brown undergrowth, will soon show little flushes 
 of pinky-yellow, and then a few days more sunshine and 
 the primroses will be there. And you see, higher up, 
 that wood where the trees stand so far apart? A little 
 later still, the wild hyacinths will be like a blue carpet 
 there. In the garden we begin with little rings of white 
 snowdrops ; then the crocuses come up in lines, yellow 
 and purple ; and the daffodils ; and then, on those beds 
 behind, the hyacinths. When the wind blows from the 
 south, the perfume of them, as you pass down the river, 
 is simply wonderful. Be careful, if you are turning 
 round. There's a strong current here." 
 
 John nodded. He was watching his hostess a little 
 curiously. 
 
 " I had no idea," he said simply, " that you cared 
 about flowers and that sort of thing." 
 
 She threw her cigarette away and looked at him for 
 a moment without speaking. 
 
 " You see, you don't really understand me very well," 
 she remarked. 
 
 The twilight was coming on as they turned into their 
 own little stream, and gleams of light shot from the
 
 THE HILLMAN 197 
 
 windows of the few houses that were open. As they 
 strolled up the lawn, they could see a rose-shaded lamp 
 and a silver tea-equipage set out in Lady Hilda's sit- 
 ting room. 
 
 " No one arrived yet, I see," she remarked carelessly, 
 as they entered the cottage. " I'll play you a game of 
 billiards as soon as we have had tea." 
 
 John, who had thoroughly enjoyed his exercise, sat 
 in a low chair by her side, drank innumerable small cups 
 of tea, and ate buttered toast in thin strips. When 
 they had finished, Lady Hilda rose. 
 
 " Go and knock the balls about for a few minutes," 
 she begged. " I am going to put on a more comfort- 
 able gown. If the Daunceys come, you can entertain 
 them. I played a round of golf this morning before 
 you came." 
 
 John made his way into the comfortable billiard 
 room, at one end of which a wood fire was burning, lit a 
 cigarette, and took out a cue. Presently Lady Hilda 
 returned. She was wearing a rose-colored tea-gown, 
 and once more John caught a glimpse of something in 
 her eyes, as she looked at him, which puzzled him. 
 
 " I am a little gaudy, I am afraid," she laughed, as 
 she took a cue from the rack, " but so comfortable ! 
 How many will you give me in a hundred ? " 
 
 " I have never seen you play," John reminded her. 
 " I am not much good myself." 
 
 They played two games, and John had hard work to 
 escape defeat. As they were commencing the third, 
 the butler entered the room, bearing a telegram. Lady 
 Hilda took it from the salver, glanced at it, and threw it 
 into the fire. 
 
 " What a nuisance ! " she exclaimed. " The Daun- 
 ceys can't come."
 
 i8 THE HILLMAN 
 
 John, who was enjoying himself very much, mur- 
 mured only a word or two of polite regret. He had 
 never got over his distaste for meeting strangers. 
 
 " Can't be helped, I suppose," Lady Hilda remarked. 
 " There is nothing from Flo Henderson yet. We'll 
 have one more game, and then I'll ring her up." 
 
 They played another game of billiards, and sat by 
 the fire for a little while. The silence outside, and the 
 air of repose about the place, were delightful to John 
 after several months of London. 
 
 " I wonder you ever leave here," he said. 
 
 She laughed softly. 
 
 " You forget that I am a lone woman. Solitude, as 
 our dear friend wrote in her last novel, is a paradise 
 for two, but is an irritant for one." 
 
 There was a short silence. For the first time since 
 his arrival John's tranquillity was a little disturbed. 
 There was something almost pathetic in the expression 
 which had flashed for a moment over his hostess's face. 
 Was she really lonely, he wondered? Perhaps she had 
 some sort of unhappy love history underneath her 
 rather hard exterior. He was disposed just then to 
 judge the whole world charitably, and he had never be- 
 lieved the stories which people were so anxious to tell of 
 her. He felt no desire to pursue the subject. 
 
 " I have never read any of Mrs. Henderson's books," 
 he remarked. 
 
 She stretched out an arm, took a volume from the 
 swinging table by her side, and threw it across to him. 
 
 " You can glance through that while you dress," she 
 said. 
 
 A gong rang through the house a few moments later, 
 and the butler brought in two cocktails on a little silver 
 tray.
 
 THE HILLMAN 199 
 
 " We are having quite a solitude a deux, aren't we ? " 
 Lady Hilda remarked, as she raised her glass. " I'll go 
 and ring up Flo on my way up-stairs." 
 
 They parted a few minutes later, and John went up 
 to his room. He found his clothes carefully laid out, 
 a bright fire burning, and a bath-room leading from his 
 bedroom. He dressed in somewhat leisurely fashion, 
 and the dinner-gong rang as he descended the stairs. 
 He could hear Lady Hilda's voice talking on the tele- 
 phone, and made his way to her little room. She had 
 just laid down the receiver. 
 
 " It seems," she said, " that you and I are the only 
 people who appreciate the country at this time of the 
 year. I have just been talking to Flo. She declares 
 that nothing in the world would tempt her down here. 
 She is convinced that all the trees are dropping with 
 damp, and that the mud is inches deep. She won't be- 
 lieve a single word about the sunshine." 
 
 " She isn't coming, then? " 
 
 Lady Hilda shook her head. 
 
 " Fred is our last hope as a chaperon," she remarked 
 carelessly, as she took his arm. " I expect he'll turn 
 up later." 
 
 Dinner which, as John observed when they entered 
 the room, was laid only for two was served at a 
 small, round table drawn pleasantly up to the fire. 
 John, who had never admired his hostess more, put all 
 disquieting thoughts behind him and thoroughly en j oyed 
 the dainty meal. The pleasant warmth of the room, 
 the excellent champagne, and Lady Hilda's amusing 
 conversation, unlocked his tongue. He talked much 
 more freely than usual of his life in Cumberland, of the 
 various half-formed plans which he had made as to the 
 spending of his unexpected fortune, of the new pleasure
 
 200 THE HILLMAN 
 
 he found in motoring, of his almost pathetic efforts to 
 understand and appreciate the town life which at heart 
 he hated. A clever listener, like most good talkers, 
 Lady Hilda frequently encouraged him with a sympa- 
 thetic word or two. 
 
 They were sitting over their coffee and liqueurs in 
 two great easy chairs drawn up to the fire, when John 
 glanced at the clock with a little start. 
 
 " Why, it's nearly ten o'clock ! " he exclaimed. 
 " What on earth can have become of your brother? " 
 
 Almost as he spoke the telephone-bell rang. It stood 
 on a little table behind him. Lady Hilda, who was 
 leaning back in her chair in an attitude of luxurious re- 
 pose, pointed lazily to it. 
 
 " Answer it for me, there's a dear man," she begged. 
 
 John took up the receiver. He recognized the voice 
 at once it was Lady Hilda's brother who spoke. 
 
 " I say, is Lady Hilda there ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes, where are you? " John replied. " I am John 
 Strangewey. We have been expecting you all the eve- 
 ning." 
 
 " Expecting me ? " was the reply. " What on earth 
 are you talking about ? And what are you doing in the 
 wilderness ? " 
 
 " I am spending the week-end with your sister," John 
 replied. " I understood that you were coming." 
 
 The young man at the other end laughed derisively. 
 
 " Something better to do, old chap ! " he said. " I 
 am dining with Flo Henderson just speaking from 
 her flat. Send Hilda along, there's a good fellow." 
 
 John turned around. His eyes met Lady Hilda's, 
 and he understood. He handed the receiver to her in 
 silence. Of the conversation which passed he scarcely 
 heard a ^ord. As soon as it began, in fact, he left the
 
 THE HILLMAN 201 
 
 room and went across the hall to the billiard room. 
 The lights were already lit, and cues, ready chalked, 
 were standing by the table. 
 
 John went through a few moments of dismayed won- 
 der. He glanced out of the window toward the garage, 
 which was all in darkness. He heard the soft sweep of 
 Lady Hilda's skirts across the hall, the closing of the 
 door as she entered. Her eyes met his, as he turned 
 around, with something of challenge in them. Her lips 
 were curved in a faintly ironical smile. 
 
 " Well? " she exclaimed, a little defiantly. " Shall I 
 telephone to London for a chaperon ? " 
 
 '* Not unless you think it necessary," John replied, 
 suddenly feeling the fire of battle in his blood. " I can 
 assure you that I am to be trusted. On the other hand, 
 if you prefer it, I can motor back to town ; or I can go 
 to the inn, and come and take you on the river in the 
 morning." 
 
 It was obvious that she was a little surprised. She 
 came over to him, put her hands upon the billiard table, 
 and looked up into his face. 
 
 " Don't be a goose," she begged, " and please don't 
 imagine foolish things. I suppose my telegram to Fred 
 must have gone wrong. Anyhow, I don't think we need 
 anybody else. We've got along very well so far to-day, 
 haven't we ? " 
 
 " I've enjoyed every moment of it," John declared 
 cheerfully, " and I am looking forward more than I can 
 tell you to beating you at billiards, to sleeping once 
 more with my windows wide open and no smuts, and to 
 having another pull on that river in the morning. Let 
 me give you fifteen this time. I want to play my best ! " 
 
 She took up her cue with a little sigh of half-puzzled 
 relief. They played two games, the second one at
 
 202 THE HILLMAN 
 
 John's insistence. Then the butler brought in whisky 
 and soda. 
 
 "Is there anything further to-night, madam?" he 
 asked, after he had arranged the tray. 
 
 " Nothing," Lady Hilda answered. " You can go to 
 bed." 
 
 They played the last game almost in silence. Then 
 Lady Hilda replaced her cue in the rack and threw her- 
 self into one of the easy chairs. 
 
 " Bring me a whisky-and-soda," she said. " We'll 
 have one cigarette before we go to bed." 
 
 John obeyed her, and sat by her side. She looked at 
 him a little questioningly. His unhesitating accept- 
 ance of the situation had puzzled her. There was noth- 
 ing but the slightest change in his manner to denote his 
 realization of the fact that the house-party was a sham. 
 
 " I believe you are cross," she exclaimed suddenly. 
 
 " On the contrary," John replied, " I have had a 
 thoroughly delightful day." 
 
 "You don't like people who tell fibs," she went on. 
 '* You know quite well, now, that my house-party was a 
 farce. I never asked the Daunceys, I never sent a tele- 
 gram to Fred. It was simply rotten luck that he rang 
 me up. I asked you down here to spend the week-end 
 with me alone." 
 
 He looked her in the face, without the slightest 
 change of expression. 
 
 " Then I think that it was exceedingly nice of you," 
 he said, " and I appreciate the compliment. Really," 
 he went on, with a smile, " I think we are quite safe, 
 aren't we? You are known as a man-hater, and you 
 are allowed special privileges because you are what you 
 are. And I am known to be in love with another 
 woman."
 
 THE HILLMAN 203 
 
 She frowned slightly. 
 
 " Does the whole world, then, know of jour infatua- 
 tion? " she asked. 
 
 " It may know, for all I care," John replied simply. 
 " I am hoping that after Monday Louise will let me an- 
 nounce it." 
 
 There was a short silence. A portion of the log fell 
 to the hearth, and John carefully replaced it upon the 
 fire. 
 
 " Do you remember," she asked, dropping her voice 
 almost to a whisper, " what I said to you the first night 
 we met at Covent Garden, before I had any particular 
 interest in you, before I had come to like you ? " 
 
 John made no reply. Why did she again remind him 
 of what she had said that night? 
 
 " I advised you," she went on, " not to be too rash. 
 I think I told you that there were better things." 
 
 " There is no better thing in the world," John said 
 simply, " than to give every feeling of which you are 
 capable to the woman you love." 
 
 She frowned and threw her cigarette into the 
 hearth. 
 
 " You talk," she declared, " either like George Alex- 
 ander on the stage, or like a country bumpkin! Why 
 doesn't some one teach you the manners of civilized 
 life?" 
 
 " Lady Hilda," he replied, " I am past teaching. 
 You see, the fact of it is that a country bumpkin is ex- 
 actly what I am." 
 
 She turned her white shoulder away from him. 
 
 "You will find a candle on the hall table," she 
 snapped. 
 
 John rose at once to his feet. 
 
 " It's your delightful country air, I suppose," he
 
 204 THE HILLMAN 
 
 said. " I am sorry if I betrayed my sleepiness, how- 
 ever. Good night ! " 
 
 Lady Hilda made no answer. John looked backward 
 from the door. She had kicked off her slipper and was 
 warming her foot before the fire. 
 
 " Good night ! " he repeated. " I am going to wake 
 like a giant in the morning, and pull you just as far as 
 you like up the river ! " 
 
 He closed the door, lit a candle, and made his way 
 to his room. As soon as he was there he locked the 
 door and flung the window wide open. Resting his el- 
 bows upon the window-sill, he looked out at the soft, 
 misty darkness. He had the sensation of having been 
 through some undignified fight, in which even victory 
 savored of shame. He felt a quivering consciousness, 
 half indignant, half irritated, of having been forced into 
 an impossible situation. 
 
 Presently he began to undress. He moved about on 
 tiptoe, and found himself continually listening. He 
 heard Lady Hilda come out from the billiard room be- 
 low, heard her strike a match as she lit a candle, heard 
 her coming up the stairs. He stood quite still. Sud- 
 denly he saw the handle of his door turned softly 
 once, and then again. He watched it with fascinated, 
 almost horrified eyes. The door was shaken slightly. 
 A voice from outside called him. 
 
 "Goodnight!" 
 
 He made no reply. The handle ceased to rattle. 
 He heard retreating footsteps, the opening and closing 
 of Lady Hilda's door.
 
 XXII 
 
 John was awakened the next morning by the sound of 
 rain against his window. He got out of bed and looked 
 upon a scene of desolation. The clouds hung low, and 
 rain was coming down in level sheets. The lawns and 
 gardens which yesterday had had the air of waiting for 
 the spring were to-day a sudden wilderness. 
 
 There was a knock at the door, and the butler brought 
 in his tea. 
 
 " Lady Hilda sends her compliments, sir," he an- 
 nounced, " and as the morning is so unfavorable she will 
 not rise until eleven o'clock. Breakfast will be ready 
 down-stairs at half past nine, or can be served in your 
 room." 
 
 " Thank you, I'll come down," John replied. 
 
 He bathed and shaved himself, he even packed his own 
 clothes. Then he left the room, descending the stairs 
 softly, and glancing furtively at the door of Lady Hil- 
 da's room with an air almost of a guilty schoolboy. 
 He breakfasted alone and spent the morning in the 
 billiard room until Lady Hilda appeared. 
 
 " I am a terrible hostess, am I not? " she said apolo- 
 getically, as she opened the cjoor ; " but what is there 
 to be done ? The weather is too hopeless, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Appalling ! " John agreed. " Still, it's very com- 
 fortable in here, and I have just made a seventy-one 
 break." 
 
 " We'll have a two hundred and fifty up that.
 
 206 THE HILLMAN 
 
 ought to last until lunch-time," she suggested, throw- 
 ing herself into a chair. " Give me ten minutes, will 
 you? This weather is so depressing. Even the effort 
 of getting up seems to have tired me." 
 
 She threw herself into an easy chair, and John tried 
 to concentrate his attention upon the balls. More than 
 once, however, he glanced across at his hostess. She 
 was looking older this morning, paler, her face a little 
 drawn, her eyes large and soft. She sat looking into 
 the fire; on her knee were some letters, at which she 
 scarcely glanced. Presently she threw them aside and 
 rang the bell. 
 
 " Bring me a brandy-and-soda and the cigarettes," 
 she told the butler. " Now, Mr. Strangewey, I am 
 ready," she went on, turning to John. " Give me fifty 
 in two hundred and fifty, if you dare ! " 
 
 " We'll try," he agreed. 
 
 They played until lunch-time, both affecting a rapt 
 interest in the game. At the sound of the gong Lady 
 Hilda laid down her cue. 
 
 '* We'll finish later," she suggested. 
 
 John strolled to the window. There were some signs 
 of clearing in the sky, although the whole place seemed 
 still to reek of moisture. 
 
 " I am afraid I shall have to start soon after lunch," 
 he said. " It will take some time to get up to town. 
 I am not a very experienced driver, and my car is a 
 little inclined to skid on wet roads." 
 
 She made no remark, and to both of them the pres- 
 ence of servants during the meal appeared to be some- 
 what of a relief. The coffee and liqueurs, however, 
 again were served in the billiard room, and there was a 
 very awkward silence. For some time Lady Hilda had 
 baffled his efforts at ordinary conversation, and his last
 
 THE HILLMAN 207 
 
 few remarks about the weather she had ignored alto- 
 gether. 
 
 " So you are going up this evening? " she said at last. 
 
 " This afternoon, if you don't mind," he replied, 
 glancing at the clock, and thinking of the bliss with 
 which he would turn his car out into the road. " I ex- 
 plained, didn't I, that I had an engagement this even- 
 ing?" 
 
 " Quite right," she admitted. " All the same, you 
 are rather an inconsiderate guest, aren't you, to leave 
 me here alone in this swamp ? " 
 
 "Come, too?" he suggested. "I'll motor you up." 
 
 " Thanks," she replied, " I will." 
 
 He was a little taken aback, but, after all, it was per- 
 haps the simplest way out of his difficulties. 
 
 " I'll take you, with pleasure, if you don't mind be- 
 ing drenched." 
 
 " I can stand physical discomforts," she said. " It's 
 the other sort of knocks that bruise." 
 
 " It won't be so bad," he continued, ignoring her last 
 speech, " if you wear a mackintosh and something thick 
 for your head. Shouldn't wonder if it cleared up pres- 
 ently." 
 
 Lady Hilda smiled. 
 
 " I have been out in a shower in Patagonia," she re- 
 minded him, " which lasted for three weeks. Will it 
 suit you to start in half an hour? " 
 
 " Any time you like," he agreed. 
 
 She had changed her position a little, and he was 
 forced to look at her. 
 
 " Mr. Strangewey," she said, " I want to ask you a 
 question. Are you going to marry Louise Maurel? " 
 
 " I am," he replied, without hesitation ; " at least, I 
 hope to do so."
 
 2o8 THE HILLMAN 
 
 She looked at him for a moment with a strange ex- 
 pression. Then she rose to her feet. Her lips were 
 quivering. She leaned against the mantelpiece, with 
 her forehead upon her arms. At first he imagined that 
 she was going to weep ; then, to his horror, he found that 
 she was laughing half-hysterically, perhaps, but still 
 laughing. He drew a step nearer to her, but she waved 
 him away. 
 
 " Sit down ! " she gasped. " Oh, if I might tell this 
 to Henri Graillot! What a play! What humor! 
 My friend John Strangewey, I congratulate you ! You 
 have created a new situation in life. Leave me alone, 
 please ! " 
 
 She bent forward until her face was completely hid- 
 den. Her body was shaken. Once or twice he fancied 
 that her laughter had turned to sobs. When at last 
 she looked up, however, there were the remains of an 
 almost devilish mirth on her lips. She rang the bell. 
 
 " That is for my maid," she said. " I am now going 
 to change my clothes and let you motor me up to Lon- 
 don. I shall get some fresh air, at any rate, and your 
 car always fills me with longing. Amuse yourself, won't 
 you ? I shall be an hour getting ready, and I will order 
 an early tea." 
 
 " You wouldn't care to tell me, I suppose," he asked, 
 " what is the new situation in life which you say I have 
 created ? " 
 
 She turned to him from the door. She was really a 
 very handsome woman. Her lips were most expressive. 
 
 " My friend," she said, " if you knew, if you under- 
 stood, the priceless humor of it would be gone." 
 
 She closed the door and left John alone. He went 
 back to the billiard-table, but somehow or other his 
 skill seemed to have vanished. He had the picture of
 
 THE HILLMAN 20$ 
 
 her face in his mind, the subtle meaning of her lips, the 
 mockery of her eyes. 
 
 They drove up to London almost in silence. It was 
 nearly seven o'clock when John swung the little car in 
 Pont Street. It was still raining softly. 
 
 " Thank you very much," he said, " for my week-end. 
 I enjoyed the river immensely yesterday afternoon." 
 
 " And thank you very much for everything, Mr. John 
 Strangewey," she returned. " You have given me what, 
 we are all sighing for, a new sensation not exactly 
 what I expected, perhaps, but something new." 
 
 " I know you think I am a country yokel and a fool," 
 John said ; " but I wish you'd tell me why you laughed 
 at me in that mysterious fashion." 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " It would spoil it," she replied. " Besides, it isn't 
 for me to tell you. I am the last person who should." 
 
 They drew up outside her little house, from which 
 came no sign of light. 
 
 " Will you dine with me to-night ? " he asked sud- 
 denly. 
 
 She turned toward him quickly and understood. 
 
 " Very nice of you," she replied lightly. ** I shall go 
 round to my club. You don't agree with me, somehow. 
 When I look at you or think of you, I feel inclined either 
 to laugh or cry, and I hate emotions. Don't get out, 
 please. You see, they are opening the door already." 
 
 She slipped away and disappeared into her house. 
 John drove slowly back toward the Milan. Just as he 
 was turning in, a little waterproofed figure from the 
 pavement waved her hand and called to him. He drew 
 up and she hastened to his side. 
 
 " What are you doing here ? " Sophy asked. " I 
 thought you were spending the week-end up the river."
 
 210 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " I stayed there last night," he answered. " To-day 
 well, look at the weather ! I have just motored Lady 
 Hilda up." 
 
 " And what are you going to do now? " she inquired 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Give you some dinner," he replied promptly. 
 
 " Hurrah ! " she answered. " I have been so bored 
 and miserable that I went and walked over Waterloo 
 Bridge in a mackintosh, just to get a little air. I'll be 
 round in an hour. Will that do ? " 
 
 " Any time you like," he agreed ; " the sooner the 
 better. I was almost wishing, a few minutes ago," he 
 went on, " that I could find the courage to storm you in 
 your little room. Louise is away, and I'm hating my- 
 self." 
 
 " So I am to come and amuse my lord ! " she laughed. 
 * Well, I'll come," she went on quickly. " We'll sit and 
 you shall imagine that I am Louise, and make love to 
 her. Will that make you happy? " 
 
 John leaned out of the car. 
 
 " Sophy," he whispered, as he slipped in his clutch, 
 " just now I do not feel like making love to any woman 
 on earth ! " 
 
 "Fed up with us, eh?" 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 " You're different, thank Heaven ! Don't be late."
 
 xxni 
 
 " This is very nearly my idea of perfect happiness," 
 Sophy murmured, as she leaned across the table and 
 listened idly while John ordered the dinner. " Give me 
 very little to eat, John, and talk a great deal to me. I 
 am depressed about myself and worried about every- 
 thing!" 
 
 " And I," he declared, " am just beginning to breathe 
 again. I don't think I understand women, Sophy." 
 
 " Wasn't your week-end party a success ? " she asked. 
 
 " Not altogether," he confessed ; " but don't let's 
 talk about it. Tell me what is depressing you." 
 
 " About myself, or things generally ? " 
 
 ' Yourself, first." 
 
 "Well, the most respectable young man you ever 
 knew in your life, who lives in Bath, wants me to marry 
 him. I don't think I could. I don't think I could live 
 in Bath, and I don't think I could marry any one. And 
 I've just thirteen shillings and fourpence left, I haven't 
 paid my rent, and my dressmaker is calling for some- 
 thing on account on Monday morning." 
 
 " There's only one answer to that," John insisted 
 cheerfully. " I am going to lend you fifty pounds while 
 you make your mind up about the young man." 
 
 She made a face at him. 
 
 " I couldn't borrow money from a strange gentle- 
 man," she protested. 
 
 " Rubbish ! " he exclaimed. " If you bcTJn calling me
 
 212 THE HILLMAN 
 
 & stranger but there, never mind ! We'll see about 
 that after dinner. Now what is the other cause for 
 depression ? " 
 
 " I am not very happy about you and Louise," she 
 observed. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 She hesitated. While she seemed to be pondering 
 over her words, John studied her almost critically. 
 Unquestionably she was very pretty ; her fair hair was 
 most becomingly arranged, her petite features and deli- 
 cate mouth were charming. Her complexion and color- 
 ing were exquisite, her neck and throat very white 
 against the plain black satin of her gown. 
 
 " In a way," she confessed at last, " it's the play 
 that's bothering me." 
 
 " The play? " he repeated. 
 
 " You won't like it," she sighed. " The reason the 
 production has been delayed so long is Graillot's in- 
 sistence upon calling a spade a spade. Even with all 
 Louise and Miles Faraday have managed to get him to 
 leave out, there is one scene which is certainly a little 
 startling for English playgoers." 
 
 " And Louise is in it? " he asked. 
 
 " Louise is the principal figure in it." 
 
 John's face darkened a little. 
 
 " I have noticed lately," he remarked gloomily, " that 
 she rather avoids talking about the play. I wish she'd 
 chuck it altogether ! " 
 
 Sophy shook her head. 
 
 " Louise won't do that," she said. " I sometimes 
 think that her work is more to her than anything else 
 in life. I suppose you two will find a way out of it, 
 somehow." 
 
 " There is only one way, and Louise will have to
 
 THE HILLMAN 213 
 
 make up her mind to it," John declared steadfastly. 
 " However, my time hasn't come just yet. Until it 
 comes, I must make the best of things. Tell me more 
 about your own love-affairs, Sophy." 
 
 " It isn't a love-affair at all ! " she exclaimed, almost 
 indignantly. 
 
 " Why, I am sorry. Your prospective alliance, then, 
 shall I call it?" 
 
 " Oh, it isn't interesting," she said. " It's just a 
 young man in Bath. He is a lawyer and moderately 
 well off. He has wanted me to marry him for years. 
 He was a friend of my brother's. Lately he has been 
 bothering a little more than usual in fact, I suppose 
 I have received what might be called an ultimatum. He 
 came up yesterday, and I went out with him last night. 
 He has gone back to Bath this morning, and I have 
 promised to let him know in a month. I think that is 
 why I went out to Waterloo Bridge in a mackintosh and 
 got wet." 
 
 " Do you like him? " John asked practically. 
 
 " I like him, I suppose," Sophy sighed. " That's 
 the worst of it. If I didn't like him, there might be 
 some chance. I can't realize myself ever doing more 
 than liking him in a mild sort of way; and if he ex- 
 pected more, as of course he would, then I should prob- 
 ably hate him. He tried to kiss me on the way to the 
 station and I nearly scratched him. That isn't like 
 me, you know. I rather like being kissed sometimes." 
 
 John buried himself in the wine-list. 
 
 " Well," he admitted, " it doesn't sound very hope- 
 ful. I'm no sort of judge in these matters, but I have 
 heard lots of people say that one gets on all right after 
 marriage without caring very much before. You don't 
 seem to have a very comfortable life now, do you? "
 
 214 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " Comfortable ? No, but I am free," Sophy replied 
 quickly. " I can come in and go out when I please, 
 choose my own friends, give my kisses to whom I please. 
 Marriage the sort of marriage mine would be is 
 slavery, and nothing else. What I am afraid of," she 
 went on, " is that when I was down in that highly re- 
 spectable old city, sitting all day in a respectable little 
 villa, with two servants to order about and housekeep- 
 ing-books to keep, I should feel the old pull come over 
 me, and some day I should chuck it all and come back 
 here to play around under the lights. It's rather fine 
 to be here, you know to be in the atmosphere, even 
 if the lime-light misses one." 
 
 John sighed, and regarded her thoughtfully. 
 
 " You're a queer little girl, Sophy," he said. " I 
 don't know how to advise you." 
 
 " Of course you don't," she answered. " No one 
 could. As for you, I suppose you will marry Louise. 
 What will happen to you after that, I don't know. 
 Perhaps I sha'n't care so much about London then. 
 You've made it very nice for me, you know." 
 
 " You've made it bearable even for me," he told her. 
 " I often think how lonely I should have been without 
 you to talk to. Louise sometimes is delightfully com- 
 panionable, and kind enough to turn one's head. Other 
 days I scarcely understand her; everything we say to 
 one another seems wrong. I come away and leave her 
 simply because I feel that there is a wall between us that 
 I can't get over." 
 
 " There isn't really," Sophy sighed. " Louise is a 
 dear. Considering everything, I think she is wonder- 
 ful. But you are utterly different. She is very com- 
 plex, very emotional, and she has her own standards of 
 life. You, on the other hand, are very simple, very
 
 THE HILLMAN 215 
 
 faithful and honest, and you accept the standards 
 which have been made for you very, very rigidly, 
 John." 
 
 " I wonder ! " he murmured, as he looked into his 
 wine-glass. " Sometimes I think I am a fool. Some- 
 times I think I'd do better to let go the strings and just 
 live as others do. Sometimes ideas come into one's 
 head that upset principles and everything. I don't 
 know ! " 
 
 Sophy leaned across the table toward him. 
 
 " Be a little more human, John," she begged. " You 
 must feel kind things sometimes. Couldn't you say 
 them ? I am depressed and gloomy. Be like other men, 
 for once, and flirt with me a little ! Try to say things, 
 even if you don't mean them just for once, for a few 
 short hours ! " 
 
 He held her hand for a moment. The fingers seemed 
 to respond to his touch with a little thrill. 
 
 " You silly child ! " he exclaimed. " If I were to be- 
 gin to say all the kind things I feel about you " 
 
 " Begin, then begin ! " she interrupted. " What 
 do you think of me, really? Am I pretty? Do you 
 like to have me here at the table with you, or is your 
 mind too full of Louise? Do you notice that I've a 
 pretty frock on, and my hair is nicely arranged? I 
 have taken so much trouble to-night. What are you 
 looking at ? " 
 
 John's whole expression had suddenly changed. His 
 eyes were fixed upon the door, his face was stern as a 
 granite block. Sophy turned quickly around. The 
 maitre d'hotel, with another satellite in his rear, was 
 welcoming with much ceremony two lately arrived 
 guests. Sophy clutched at the table-cloth. The new- 
 comers were Louise and the Prince of Seyre.
 
 216 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " I don't understand this ! " John muttered, his lips 
 twitching. 
 
 Sophy Gerard said nothing. Her cheeks were pink 
 with excitement. 
 
 Suddenly Louise saw John and Sophy. She stood 
 quite still for a moment; then she came toward them, 
 slowly and a little languidly. The prince was still 
 studying through his eye-glass the various tables which 
 the head waiter was offering for his consideration. 
 
 " What an astonishing meeting ! " Louise remarked, 
 as she laid her hand for a moment on Sophy's shoulder. 
 " What is going on behind my back ? " 
 
 John rose very slowly to his feet. He seemed taller' 
 than ever, and Louise's smile remained unanswered. 
 
 " The rain broke up my week-end party," he ex- 
 plained, " and I met Sophy in the Strand. In any case, 
 I intended returning to-night. I understood that you 
 would not be here until to-morrow about eleven o'clock." 
 
 " Those were my plans," Louise replied ; " but, as you 
 see, other things have intervened. Our little house 
 party, too, was broken up by this abominable weather, 
 and we all motored up to town. The Faradays have 
 gone home. The prince heard from Miles that I was at 
 home, and telephoned me to dine. Me voici! " 
 
 John was struggling with a crowd of hateful thoughts. 
 Louise was wearing a wonderful gown; her hair was 
 beautifully arranged ; she had the air of a woman whose 
 toilet was complete and perfect down to the slightest 
 detail. The prince's slow drawl reached them dis- 
 tinctly. 
 
 " It was my servant's fault, I suppose," he said. 
 " I told him to ring up last night ttnd order the table 
 for two in that corner. However, we will take the 
 vacant one near your desk."
 
 THE HILLMAN 217 
 
 He looked around and, as if for the first time, missed 
 Louise. He came toward them at once. 
 
 " The prince seems to have ordered his table last 
 night," John remarked, his tone, even to himself, sound- 
 ing queer and strained. 
 
 Louise made no reply. The prince was already shak- 
 ing hands with Sophy. 
 
 " I thought you were spending the week-end with my 
 cousin, Strangewey," he remarked, turning to John. 
 
 " We did spend part of it together," John replied. 
 *' The weather drove us back this afternoon." 
 
 " I congratulate you both on your good taste," said 
 the prince. " There is nothing more abominable than a 
 riverside retreat out of season. We are taking the 
 table on the left, Louise." 
 
 He led her away, and they passed down the room. 
 John slowly resumed his seat. 
 
 " Sophy," he demanded hoarsely, " tell me the truth. 
 Is there anything between the prince and Louise? " 
 
 Sophy nervously crumbled up the toast by her side. 
 
 " The prince admires Louise, and has done so for 
 many years," she answered. " No one knows anything 
 else. Louise never speaks of him to me. I cannot tell 
 you." 
 
 " But you must know," he persisted, with a little 
 break in his voice. " Forgive me, Sophy, if I make an 
 ass of myself. First Lady Hilda, and then Graillot, 
 and then well, I thought Louise might have rung up 
 to see whether I was at home, if she came back sooner 
 than she expected; and the prince took the table last 
 night!" 
 
 She leaned over and patted him on the hand. 
 
 " Don't worry," she begged. " If Louise has to 
 choose some day between him and you, I don't think
 
 2i8 THE HILLMAN 
 
 she'll hesitate very long. And please remember that 
 you were commencing to flirt with me. I insist upon it ! 
 I won't be put off. Don't look so stern, please. You 
 look very statuesque and perfect, but I don't want to 
 dine with a piece of sculpture. Remember that I am 
 really looking very pretty, and that I am finding you 
 too attractive for my peace of mind. There's your 
 text ! " 
 
 He poured a glass of wine and drank it off. 
 
 " I'll do my best," he agreed. " If it sounds like 
 rubbish, you can still believe that I appreciate every- 
 thing you've told me. You are pretty, and I am lucky 
 to have you here. Now I'll try to make you believe that 
 I think so." 
 
 She leaned over so that her head almost touched his. 
 
 " Go on, please ! " she murmured. " Even if it hurts 
 afterward, it will be heavenly to listen to ! "
 
 XXIV 
 
 The next night Sophy acted as showman. Her part 
 was over at the end of the first act, and a few minutes 
 later she slipped into a seat by John's side behind the 
 curtain. 
 
 " What do you think of it so far ? " she asked, a lit- 
 tle anxiously. 
 
 " It seems quite good," John replied cheerfully. 
 " Some very clever lines, and all that sort of thing; but 
 I can't quite see what it's all leading to." 
 
 Sophy peered around the house from behind the cur- 
 tain. 
 
 " There isn't standing-room anywhere," she declared. 
 '" I don't suppose there ever was a play in London that 
 was more talked about ; and then putting it off for more 
 than three months why, there have been all sorts of 
 rumors about. Do you want to know who the people in 
 the audience are ? " 
 
 " Not particularly," John answered. " I shouldn't 
 know them, if you told me. There are just a few 
 familiar faces. I see the prince in the box opposite." 
 
 " Did you telephone to Louise to-day ? " Sophy asked. 
 
 John shook his head. 
 
 " No. I thought it better to leave her alone until 
 after to-night." 
 
 " You are going to the supper, of course? " 
 
 " I have been asked," John replied, a little doubtfully. 
 ** I don't quite know whether I want to. Is it being 
 given by the prince or by the management ? "
 
 220 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " The management," Sophy assured him. " Do come 
 and take me ! It's going to be rather fun." 
 
 The curtain went up upon the second act. John, 
 from the shadows of the box, listened attentively. The 
 subject was not a particularly new one, but the writing 
 was brilliant. There was the old Marquis de Guy, a 
 roue, a degenerate, but still overbearing and full of per- 
 sonality, from whose lips came some of Graillot's most 
 brilliant sayings ; Louise, his wife ; and Faraday, a 
 friend of the old marquis, and obviously the intended 
 lover of his wife. 
 
 " I don't see anything so terrible in this," John re- 
 marked, as the curtain went down once more and thun- 
 ders of applause greeted some wonderful lines of Grail- 
 lot's. 
 
 " It's wonderful ! " Sophy declared. " Try and bear 
 the thread of it all in your mind. For two acts you 
 have been asked to focus your attention upon the in- 
 creasing brutality of the marquis. Remember that, 
 won't you? " 
 
 " Not likely to forget it," John replied. " How well 
 they all act ! " 
 
 There was a quarter of an hour's interval before the 
 curtain rose again. Rumors concerning the last act 
 had been floating about for weeks, and the house was 
 almost tense with excitement as the curtain went up. 
 The scene was the country chateau of the Marquis de 
 Guy, who brought a noisy crowd of companions from 
 Paris without any warning. His wife showed signs of 
 dismay at his coming. He had brought with him women 
 whom she declined to receive. 
 
 The great scene between her husband and herself took 
 place in the square hall of the chateau, on the first floor. 
 The marquis is on the way to the room of one of his
 
 THE HILLMAN 221 
 
 guests. Louise reaffirms her intention of leaving the 
 house. Her husband laughs at her. Her position is 
 helpless. 
 
 " What can you do ? " he mocks. 
 
 She shrugs her shoulders and passes into her room. 
 The marquis sinks upon a settee, and presently is joined 
 by one of the ladies who have traveled with him from 
 Paris. He talks to her of the pictures upon the wall. 
 She is impatient to meet the Marquis de Guy. 
 
 The marquis knocks at his wife's door. Her voice is 
 heard clearly, after a moment's pause. 
 
 " In a few minutes ! " she replies. 
 
 The marquis resumes his flirtation. His companion 
 becomes impatient the marquis has pledged his word 
 that she should be received by his wife. An ancient 
 enmity against the Marquis de Guy prompts her to 
 insist. 
 
 The marquis shrugs his shoulders and knocks more 
 loudly than ever at his wife's door. She comes out 
 followed by Faraday. 
 
 " You asked me what I could do," she says, pointing 
 to her lover. " You see now ! " 
 
 There was a moment's breathless silence through the 
 house. The scene in itself was a little beyond anything 
 that the audience had expected. Sophy, who had been 
 leaning over the edge of the box, turned around in no 
 little anxiety. She heard the door slam. John had 
 disappeared ! 
 
 He left the theater with only his hat in his hand, 
 turning up his coat by instinct as he passed through 
 the driving rain. All his senses seemed tingling with 
 some nameless horror. The brilliance of the language, 
 the subtlety of the situation, seemed like some evil trail 
 drawn across that one horrible climax. It was Louise
 
 222 THE HILLMAN 
 
 who had come from that room and pointed to Faraday ! 
 Louise who confessed herself a 
 
 He broke out into language as he walked. The de- 
 sire of Samson burned in his heart to stride back 
 into the theater, to smash the scenery, to throw the 
 puppets from the stage, one by one, to end forever this 
 ghastly, unspeakable play. And all the time the ap- 
 plause rang in his ears. He had read with one swift 
 glance the tense interest almost lascivious, it seemed 
 to him on the faces of that great audience. The 
 scene had tickled their fancies. It was to pander to 
 such base feelings that Louise was upon the stage ! 
 
 He reached his rooms he scarcely knew how and 
 walked up-stairs. There he threw off some of his drip- 
 ping garments, opened the window wide, and stood 
 there. 
 
 He looked out over the Thames, and there was a red 
 fire before his eyes. Stephen was right, he told him- 
 self. There was nothing but evil to be found here, 
 nothing but bitter disappointment, nothing but the pain 
 which deepens into anguish. Better to remain like Ste- 
 phen, unloving and unloved, to draw nearer to the 
 mountains, to find joy in the crops and the rain and the 
 sunshine, to listen stonily to the cry of human beings 
 as if to some voice from an unknown world. 
 
 He leaned a little further from the window, and gazed 
 into the court at a dizzy depth below. He had cut 
 himself adrift from the peace which might have been 
 his. He would never know again the joys of his earlier 
 life. It was for this that he had fought so many bat- 
 tles, clung so tightly to one ideal for Louise, who 
 could show herself to any one who cared to pay his 
 shilling or his half-guinea, glorying in her dishonor; 
 worse than glorying in it finding some subtle humor
 
 THE HILLMAN 223 
 
 in the little gesture with which she had pointed, un- 
 ashamed, to her lover. 
 
 John bent a little lower from the window. A sudden 
 dizziness seemed to have come over him. Then he was 
 forced to turn around. His door had been quickly 
 opened and shut. It was Sophy who was crossing 
 toward him, the rain streaming from her ruined opera- 
 cloak. , 
 
 " John ! " she cried. " Oh, John ! " 
 
 She led him back to his chair and knelt by his side. 
 She held his hands tightly. 
 
 " You mustn't feel like this," she sobbed ; " you 
 mustn't, John, really! You don't understand. It's 
 all a play. Louise wouldn't really do anything like 
 that!" 
 
 He shivered. Nevertheless, he clutched her hands 
 and drew her closer to him. 
 
 " Do, please, listen to me," she begged. " It's all 
 over. Louise is herself again Louise Maurel. The 
 Marquis de Guy never lived except upon these boards. 
 It is simply a wonderful creation. Any one of the great 
 actresses would play that part and glory in it the 
 very greatest, John. Oh, it's so hard to make you un- 
 derstand! Louise is waiting for you. They are all 
 waiting at the supper-party. You are expected. You 
 must go and tell her that you think it was wonder- 
 ful!" 
 
 He rose slowly to his feet. 
 
 "Wonderful!" he muttered. "Wonderful! But, 
 child, it is damnable ! " 
 
 " Don't be foolish," she answered. " Go and put on 
 another dress coat, tie your tie again, and brush your 
 hair. I have come to take you to the supper." 
 
 He caught at her hands roughly.
 
 224 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " Supposing I won't go ? " he whispered hoarsely. 
 *' Supposing I keep you here instead, Sophy ? " 
 
 She swayed for a moment. Something flashed into 
 her face and passed away. She was paler than ever. 
 
 " Dear John," she begged, " pull yourself together ! 
 Remember that Louise is waiting for you. It's Louise 
 you want not me. Nothing that she has done to- 
 night should make her any the less worthy of you and 
 your love." 
 
 He strode away into the farther room. He reap- 
 peared in a moment or two, his hair smoothly brushed, 
 his tie newly arranged. 
 
 " I'll come, little girl," he promised. " I don't know 
 what I'll say to her, but I'll come. There can't be any 
 harm in that ! " 
 
 " Of course not," she answered cheerfully. " You're 
 the most terrible goose, John," she added, as they walked 
 down the corridor. " Do, please, lose your tragical 
 air. The whole world is at Louise's feet to-night. 
 You mustn't let her know how absurdly you have been 
 feeling. To-morrow you will find that every paper in 
 London will be acclaiming her genius." 
 
 John squared his shoulders. 
 
 ** All the same," he declared grimly, " if I could burn 
 the theater and the play, and lock up Graillot for a 
 month, to-night, I'd do it I "
 
 XXV 
 
 The days and weeks drifted into months, and John 
 remained in London. His circle of friends and his in- 
 terests had widened. It was only his relations with 
 Louise which remained still unchanged. Always charm- 
 ing to him, giving him much of her time, favoring him, 
 beyond a doubt, more than any of her admirers, there 
 was yet about her something elusive, something which 
 seemed intended to keep him so far as possible at arm's 
 length. 
 
 There was nothing tangible of which he could com- 
 plain, and this probationary period was of his own sug- 
 gestion. He bore it grimly, holding his place, when- 
 ever it was possible, by her side with dogged persistence. 
 Then one evening there was a knock at his door, and 
 Stephen Strangewey walked in. 
 
 After all, this meeting, of which John had often 
 thought, and which sometimes he had dreaded a little, 
 turned out to be a very ordinary affair. Stephen, al- 
 though he seemed a little taller and gaunter than ever, 
 though he seemed to bring into the perhaps overwarmed 
 atmosphere of John's little sitting room something of 
 the cold austerity of his own domain, had evidently 
 come in no unfriendly spirit. He took both his broth- 
 er's hands in his and gripped them warmly. 
 
 " I can't tell you how glad I am to see you, Stephen ! '* 
 John declared. 
 
 " It has been an effort to me to come," Stephen ad-
 
 226 THE HILLMAN 
 
 mitted. (( But I had it in my mind, John, that we 
 parted bad friends. I have come to see how things are 
 with you." 
 
 " Well enough," John answered evasively. " Sit 
 down." 
 
 Stephen held his brother away from him, gripping his 
 shoulders with both hands. He looked steadily into his 
 face. 
 
 " Well enough you may be, John," he said, " but 
 your looks tell a different story. There's a look in your 
 eyes already that they all get here, sooner or later." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " John protested cheerfully. " No one 
 pretends that the life here is quite as healthy as ours, 
 physically, but that isn't everything. I am a little tired 
 "to-day, perhaps. One spends one's time differently up 
 here, you know, and there's a little more call upon the 
 brain, a little less upon the muscles." 
 
 " Give me an example," Stephen suggested. " What 
 were you doing last night, for instance? " 
 
 John rang the bell for some tea, took his brother's 
 hat and stick from his hand, and installed him in an easy 
 chair. 
 
 " I went to a political meeting down in the East 
 End," he replied. " One of the things I am trying to 
 take a little more interest in up here is politics." 
 
 " No harm in that, anyway," Stephen admitted. 
 "That all?" 
 
 " The meeting was over about eleven," John con- 
 tinued. " After that I came up here, changed my 
 clothes, and went to a dance." 
 
 " At that time of night? " 
 
 John laughed. 
 
 " Why, nothing of that sort ever begins until eleven 
 o'clock," he explained. " I stayed there for about an
 
 THE HILLMAN 227 
 
 hour or so, and afterward I went round to a club I be- 
 long to, with the Prince of Seyre and some other men. 
 They played bridge, and I watched." 
 
 " So that's one of your evenings, is it? " Stephen re- 
 marked. " No great harm in such doings nor much 
 good, that I can see. With the Prince of Seyre, 
 eh?" 
 
 " I see him occasionally." 
 
 " He is one of your friends now? " 
 
 " I suppose so," John admitted, frowning. " Some- 
 times I think he is, sometimes I am not so sure. At any 
 rate, he has been very kind to me." 
 
 " He is by way of being a friend of the young woman 
 herself, isn't he ? " Stephen asked bluntly. 
 
 " He has been a friend of Miss Maurel since she first 
 went on the stage," John replied. " It is no doubt for 
 her sake that he has been so kind to me." 
 
 "And how's the courting getting on? " Stephen de- 
 manded, his steely eyes suddenly intent. 
 
 " None too well," John confessed. 
 
 " Are you still in earnest about it ? " 
 
 " Absolutely ! More than ever ! " 
 
 Stephen produced his pipe from his pocket, and 
 slowly filled it. 
 
 " She is keeping you dangling at her heels, and giving 
 you no sort of answer?" 
 
 " Well, I wouldn't put it quite like that," John de- 
 clared, good-humoredly. " I asked her to marry me as 
 soon as I came up, and we both agreed to wait for a 
 time. You see, her life has been so extraordinarily dif- 
 ferent from mine. I have only half understood the 
 things which to her are like the air she breathes. She 
 is a great artist, and I scarcely ever leave her without 
 feeling appallingly ignorant. Our life down in Cum-
 
 228 THE HILLMAN 
 
 berland, Stephen, is well enough in its way, but it leaves 
 us outside many of the great things of life." 
 
 " That may be true enough, boy," Stephen admitted, 
 blowing out dense volumes of smoke from his pipe ; " but 
 are you sure that it's toward those great things that she 
 is pointing you? " 
 
 " I am sure of it," John answered earnestly. " I ap- 
 preciate that in my heart. Let us talk together, Ste- 
 phen, as we used. I will admit that I have found most 
 of the time up here wearisome. On the other hand, I 
 am beginning to understand that I have been, and still 
 am, very ignorant. There is so much in the world that 
 one can only learn by experience." 
 
 " And what are you willing to pay for the knowl- 
 edge ? " Stephen asked. " Your health, I suppose, your 
 simple life, your love of the pure ways all these are to 
 go into the melting-pot ? " 
 
 " There's no such payment demanded for the things 
 I am thinking of," John assured his brother. " Take 
 art, for instance: We reach the fringe of it with our 
 books. There are pictures, even here in London, which 
 when you look at them, especially with one who under- 
 stands, give a new vigor to your understanding, a new 
 resource to living. You become conscious of a new 
 beauty in the world, a new garden, as it were, into which 
 one can wander every day and yet not explore it in a 
 lifetime. I have seen enough, Stephen, to make me 
 "want to go to Italy. It's a shameful thing to keep one's 
 brain and taste unemployed ! " 
 
 " Who takes you to see the pictures ? " Stephen de- 
 manded. 
 
 " Miss Maurel, generally. She understands these 
 things better than any one I have ever talked with." 
 
 " Pictures, eh ? " Stephen grunted.
 
 THE HILLMAN 229 
 
 " I mentioned pictures as an example," John con- 
 tinued ; " but the love of them includes many other 
 things." 
 
 "Theaters?" 
 
 " Of course," John assented. " It's no good being 
 narrow about theaters, Stephen. You read books read- 
 ily enough, and theaters are only living books, after all. 
 There is no real difference." 
 
 " There is a difference in plays, though, as there is a 
 difference in books," Stephen reminded him. " What 
 about the play Miss Maurel is acting in now? She's a 
 man's mistress in it, isn't she, and glories in it ? " 
 
 John, who had been walking about the room, came 
 and sat down opposite to his brother. He leaned a lit- 
 tle forward. 
 
 " Stephen," he confessed, " I loathed that play the 
 first night I saw it. I sha'n't forget how miserable I 
 was. Louise was so wonderful that I could see how she 
 swayed all that audience just by lifting or dropping her 
 voice ; but the story was a horror to me. The next day 
 well, she talked to me. She was very kind and very 
 considerate. She explained many things. I try my 
 best, now, to look at the matter from her point of 
 view." 
 
 Stephen's eyes were filled for a moment with si- 
 lent scorn. Then he knocked out the ashes from his 
 pipe. 
 
 " You're content, then, to let the woman you want to 
 make your wife show herself on the stage and play the 
 wanton for folks to grin at ? " he asked. 
 
 John rose once more to his feet. 
 
 "Look here, Stephen," he begged, a little wistfully, 
 " it isn't any use talking like that, is it? If you have 
 come here with evil things in your mind about the woman
 
 230 THE HILLMAN 
 
 I love, we had better shake hands and part quickly. 
 She'll be my wife some day, or I shall count my life a 
 failure, and I don't want to feel that words have passed 
 between us " 
 
 " I'll say no more, John," Stephen interrupted. " I 
 was hoping, when I came, that there might be a chance 
 of seeing you back home again soon. It's going to be 
 an early spring. There was June sunshine yesterday. 
 It lay about the hillsides all day and brought the tender 
 greens out of the earth. It opened the crocuses, waxy 
 yellow and white, all up the garden border. The hedge- 
 rows down in the valley smelled of primrose and violets. 
 Art and pictures ! I never had such schooling as you, 
 John, but there was old Dr. Benson at Clowmarsh I 
 always remember what he said one day, just before I 
 left. I'd been reading Ruskin, and I asked him what art 
 was and what it meant. ' My boy,' he answered, * art 
 simply represents man's passionate desire to drag the 
 truth out of life in half a dozen different ways. God 
 does it for you in the country ! ' They called him an 
 ignorant man, old Benson, for a schoolmaster, but when 
 I'd struggled through what I could of Ruskin, I came to 
 the conclusion that he and I were something of the same 
 mind." 
 
 " It's good to hear you talk like that, Stephen," John 
 said earnestly. " You're making me homesick, but 
 what's the sense of it? For good or for evil, I am here 
 to wrestle with things for a bit." 
 
 " It's no easy matter for me to open out the things 
 that are in my heart," Stephen answered. " I am one 
 of the old-fashioned Strangeweys. What I feel is 
 pretty well locked up inside. The last time you and I 
 met perhaps I spoke too much ; so here I am ! " 
 
 you," John declared. " I remember
 
 THE HILLMAN 231 
 
 nothing of that day. We will look at things squarely 
 together, even where we differ. I'm " 
 
 He broke off in the middle of his sentence. The door 
 had been suddenly opened, and Sophy Gerard made a 
 somewhat impetuous entrance. 
 
 " I'm absolutely sick of ringing, John," she exclaimed. 
 " Oh, I beg your pardon ! I hadn't the least idea you 
 had any one with you." 
 
 She stood still in surprise, a little apologetic smile 
 upon her lips. John hastened forward and welcomed 
 her. 
 
 " It's all right, Sophy," he declared. " Let me in- 
 troduce my brother, may I? My brother Stephen 
 Miss Sophy Gerard." 
 
 Stephen rose slowly from his place, laid down his 
 pipe, and bowed stiffly to Sophy. She held out her 
 hand, however, and smiled up at him delightfully. 
 
 " How nice of you to come and see your poor, lonely 
 brother ! " she said. " We have done our best to spoil 
 him, but I am afraid he is very homesick sometimes. 
 I hope you've come to stay a long time and to learn all 
 about London, as John is doing. If you are half as 
 nice as he is, we'll give you such a good time ! " 
 
 From his great height, Stephen looked down upon 
 the girl's upturned face a little austerely. She chat- 
 tered away, entirely unabashed. 
 
 " I do hope you're not shocked at my bursting in 
 upon your brother like this ! We really are great pals, 
 and I live only just across the way. We are much less 
 formal up here, you know, than you are in the country. 
 John, I've brought you a message from Louise." 
 
 "About to-night?" 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "Louise is most frightfully sorry," she explained,
 
 232 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " but she has to go down to Streatham to open a bazaar, 
 and she can't possibly be back in time to dine before the 
 theater. Can you guess what she dared to suggest? " 
 
 " I think I can," John replied, smiling. 
 
 " Say you will, there's a dear," she begged. " I am 
 not playing to-night. May Enser is going on in my 
 place. We arranged it a week ago. I had two fines to 
 pay on Saturday, and I haven't had a decent meal this 
 week. But I had forgotten," she broke off, with a sud- 
 den note of disappointment in her tone. " There's your 
 brother. I mustn't take you away from him." 
 
 " We'll all have dinner together," John suggested. 
 " You'll come, of course, Stephen? " 
 
 Stephen shook his head. 
 
 " Thank you," he said, " I am due at my hotel. I'm 
 going back to Cumberland to-morrow morning, and my 
 errand is already done." 
 
 " You will do nothing of the sort ! " John declared. 
 
 " Please be amiable," Sophy begged. " If you won't 
 come with us, I shall simply run away and leave you with 
 John. You needn't look at your clothes," she went on. 
 " We can go to a grill-room. John sha'n't dress, either. 
 I want you to tell me all about Cumberland, where this 
 brother of yours lives. He doesn't tell us half 
 enough ! " 
 
 John passed his arm through his brother's and led him 
 away. 
 
 " Come and have a wash, old chap," he said. 
 
 They dined together at Luigi's, a curiously assorted 
 trio Sophy, between the two men, supplying a dis- 
 tinctly alien note. She was always gay, always amus- 
 ing, but although she addressed most of her remarks to 
 Stephen, he never once unbent. He ate and drank 
 simply, seldom speaking of himself or his plans, and
 
 THE HILLMAN 233 
 
 firmly negativing all their suggestions for the remainder 
 of the evening. Occasionally he glanced at the clock. 
 John became conscious of a certain feeling of curiosity, 
 which in a sense Sophy shared. 
 
 " Your brother seems to me like a man with a pur- 
 pose," she said, as they stood in the entrance-hall on 
 their way out of the restaurant. " Like a prophet with 
 a mission, perhaps I should say." 
 
 John nodded. In the little passage where they stood, 
 he and Stephen seemed to dwarf the passers-by. The 
 men, in their evening clothes and pallid faces, seemed 
 suddenly insignificant, and the women like dolls. 
 
 " For the last time, Stephen," JoKn said, " won't you 
 come to a music-hall with us?"" 
 
 " I have made my plans for the evening, thank you," 
 Stephen replied, holding out his hand. " Good night ! " 
 
 He left them standing there and walked off down the 
 Strand. John, looking after him, frowned. He was 
 conscious of a certain foreboding.
 
 XXVI 
 
 " I suppose," Sophy sighed, as they waited for a taxi- 
 cab, " we shall spend the remainder of the evening in the 
 usual fashion ! " 
 
 " Do you mind ? " John asked. 
 
 " No," she assented resignedly. " That play will end 
 by making a driveling idiot of me. Only think for 
 yourself! At first we had to rehearse an extra month 
 to please M. Graillot. I never had more than a dozen 
 lines to say, even .before my part was practically cut 
 out, but I had to be there every time. Now it has been 
 running for I don't know how many nights, I have 
 played in it half the time, and if your highness ever 
 vouchsafes me a few hours in the evening, you turn to 
 me about nine o'clock with just the same plaintive ex- 
 pression, and murmur something about going on to the 
 theater ! " 
 
 " We'll do something else to-night," John proposed 
 heroically. " I really had no idea that you were so 
 fed up with it." 
 
 Sophy shook her head. They were in the taxicab 
 now and on their way. 
 
 " Too late ! " she sighed. " Besides, my sense of 
 economy revolts at the idea of your empty box. If 
 Louise is tired to-night, though, I warn you that I shall 
 insist upon supper." 
 
 " It's a bargain," John promised. " We'll drive 
 Louise home, and then I'll take you back to Luigi's. 
 We haven't been out together for some time, have we? "
 
 THE HILLMAN 235 
 
 She looked up at him with a little grimace and patted 
 his hand. 
 
 " You have neglected me," she said. " I think all 
 these fine ladies have turned your head." 
 
 She drew a little closer to him and passed her arm 
 through his. John made no responsive movement. He 
 was filled with resentment at the sensation of pleasure 
 that her affectionate gesture gave him. 
 
 " I might as well try to flirt with a statue ! " she de- 
 clared, discontentedly. " What makes you so unlike 
 other people, you man of granite? You used to kiss me 
 very clumsily when I asked you to, and now why, 
 how hot your hand is ! " 
 
 John pushed her away almost roughly. 
 
 " Yes, I know I did," he admitted, " and now I don't 
 want to any more, do you see? It's this cursed place 
 and this cursed life! One's feet seem always on the 
 sands. I wouldn't have believed it when I first came 
 here. Don't tease me, Sophy," he added, turning 
 toward her suddenly. " I am rather inclined to despise 
 myself these last few weeks. Don't make me worse 
 don't make me loathe myself ! " 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders a little pettishly as she 
 leaned back in the cab. 
 
 ** You are nothing but a crank," she declared ; " you 
 and your brother, too! You've lived among those 
 flinty rocks till you've become almost like them your- 
 selves." 
 
 The taxi drew up at the theater. John, with a little 
 sigh of relief, was already out upon the pavement. 
 Sophy's eyes were still shining at him through her veil, 
 as she walked lightly and gracefully by his side, but he 
 led the way in silence down the stairs to the box that he 
 had taken for the season.
 
 S36 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " And now," she exclaimed with a pout, as she leaned 
 back in the corner, " my little reign is over ! You will 
 sit in the front seat and you will look at Louise, and 
 feel Louise, and your eyes will shine Louise, until the 
 moment for your escape comes, when you can go round 
 to the back and meet her ; and then you will try to make 
 excuses to get rid of me, so that you can drive her home 
 alone!" 
 
 " Rubbish, Sophy ! " he answered, as he drew a chair 
 to her side. " You know quite well that I can't sit in 
 the front of the box, for the very prosaic reason that I 
 haven't changed my clothes. We shall both have to 
 linger here in the shadows." 
 
 " Well, there is some comfort in that, at any rate," 
 Sophy confessed. " If I become absolutely overcome 
 by my emotions, I can hold your hand." 
 
 " You had better not," John observed. " The stage 
 manager has his eye on you. If his own artists won't 
 behave in the theater, what can he expect of the audi- 
 ence? " 
 
 Sophy made a little grimace. " If they stop my three 
 pounds a week," she murmured, " I shall either have to 
 starve or become your valet ! " 
 
 The curtain was up and the play in progress a 
 work of genius rather in its perfectly balanced develop- 
 ment and its phraseology than in any originality of 
 motive. Louise, married as an ingenue, so quickly 
 transformed into the brilliant woman of society poking 
 mild fun at the unsympathetic husband to whom she has 
 been sold while still striving to do her duty as a wife, 
 easily dominated every situation. The witty speeches 
 seemed to sparkle upon her lips. While she was upon 
 the stage, every spoken sentence was listened to with 
 rapt attention. Graillot, seated as usual among the
 
 THE HILLMAN 237 
 
 shadows of the opposite box, moved his head appreci- 
 atively each time she spoke, as if punctuating the meas- 
 ured insolence of her brilliance. 
 
 Exquisitely gowned, full of original and daring ges- 
 tures, she moved about the stage as if her feet scarcely 
 touched the boards. She was full of fire and life in the 
 earlier stages of the comedy. She heaped mild ridicule 
 upon her husband and his love-affairs, exchanged light 
 sallies with her guests, or parried with resourceful 
 subtlety the constant appeals of the man she loved. 
 
 The spell of it all, against which he had so often, 
 fought, came over John anew. He set his chair back 
 against the wall and watched and listened, a veritable 
 sense of hypnotism creeping over his senses. Presently 
 the same impulse which had come to him so many times 
 before induced him to turn his head, to read in the faces 
 .of the audience the reflection of her genius. He had 
 often watched those long lines of faces changing, each 
 in its own way, under the magic of her art. To-night 
 he looked beyond. He knew very well that his search 
 had a special object. Suddenly he gripped the arms of 
 his chair. In the front row of the pit, sitting head and 
 shoulders taller than the men and women who lounged 
 over the wooden rest in front of them, was Stephen. 
 More than ever, among these unappropriate surround- 
 ings, he seemed to represent something almost patri- 
 archal, a forbidding and disapproving spirit sitting in 
 judgment upon some modern and unworthy wantonness. 
 His face, stern and grave, showed little sign of approval 
 or disapproval, but to John's apprehending eyes the 
 critical sense was there, the verdict foredoomed. He 
 understood as in a flash that Stephen had come there to 
 judge once more the woman whom his brother desired. 
 
 At last the second act ended, and John pushed back
 
 238 THE HILLMAN 
 
 his chair. Sophy, whose apprehensions were remark- 
 ably acute, especially where John was concerned, lifted 
 the edge of the curtain and understood. She exchanged 
 a quick glance with her companion. 
 
 " He won't like it 1 " she whispered. 
 
 " If only we could get him away before the next act ! " 
 John muttered. 
 
 They both glanced once more into the auditorium be- 
 low. Many of the spectators had left their places to 
 stroll about. Not so Stephen. Unflinchingly he sat 
 there, with an air of dogged patience. He had bought 
 a program and was reading the names, one by one. 
 
 "Is there nothing we can do?" Sophy asked. 
 " Couldn't we send a message persuade him that the 
 last act isn't worth staying for? " 
 
 John shook his head. 
 
 " Stephen has come here with a purpose," he said 
 gloomily. " I might have guessed it. He will see it 
 through. He will sit there till the end." 
 
 The curtain went up again and the play moved on, 
 with subtle yet inevitable dramatic power, toward the 
 hated and dreaded crisis. Louise's moment of combined 
 weakness and strength was so wonderfully natural, so 
 very human, that its approach sent a thrill of anticipa- 
 tion through the audience. The intense lifelikeness of 
 the play predominated over every other feeling. It was 
 as if real things were happening, as if they were watch- 
 ing and listening to a woman at the moment of her 
 choice. And then at last the tense moment, the sud- 
 den cessation of her husband's foolish laughter and fu- 
 tile taunts, the supreme denouement with its interval 
 of breathless silence. 
 
 John, who was slowly tearing his program to pieces, 
 turned his head toward the spot where his brother was
 
 THE HILLMAN 239 
 
 sitting in the dimmer light. Stephen's countenance 
 seemed to have changed into the color as well as the 
 likeness of those granite rocks. The line of faces on 
 either side of him appeared now curiously featureless. 
 His eyes were still riveted upon that closed door, his 
 eyebrows had come together in a stupendous frown. 
 
 Sophy had parted the curtain and was peeping 
 through. 
 
 " Nothing in the world could make him understand ! " 
 she murmured. " Do you think it would be of any use 
 if we met him outside? " 
 
 John shook his head. 
 
 " You can't convince people," he replied, " when you 
 are unconvinced yourself." 
 
 The play came to an end presently, amid a storm of 
 applause. The grim figure in the front of the pit re- 
 mained motionless and silent. He was one of the last 
 to leave, and John watched his retreating figure with a 
 sigh. Sophy drew him away. 
 
 " We had better hurry round," she said. " Louise is 
 always very quick getting ready." 
 
 They found her, as a matter of fact, in the act of 
 leaving. She welcomed them naturally enough, but 
 John fancied that her greeting showed some signs of em- 
 barrassment. 
 
 " You knew that I was going out to supper to- 
 night ? " she asked. " Or didn't I tell you ? The prince 
 has asked the French people from His Majesty's to 
 meet M. Graillot at supper. I am hurrying home to 
 dress." 
 
 John handed her into her waiting automobile in si- 
 lence. She glanced into his face. 
 
 " Is anything the matter ? " she asked. 
 
 "Nothing!"
 
 2 4 o THE HILLMAN 
 
 " The prince would have asked you, without a doubt," 
 Louise continued, " but he knows that you are not really 
 interested in the stage, and this party is entirely French 
 they do not speak a word of English. Au revoir! 
 Sophy, take care of him, and mind you behave your- 
 selves ! " 
 
 She waved her hand to them both and threw herself 
 back among the cushions as the car glided off. John 
 walked to the corner of the street in gloomy silence. 
 Then he remembered his companion. He stopped 
 short. 
 
 " Sophy," he begged, " don't hold me to my promise. 
 I don't want to take you out to supper to-night. I am 
 not in the humor for it." 
 
 " Don't be foolish ! " she replied. " If you stay 
 alone, you will only imagine things and be miserable. 
 We needn't have any supper, unless you like. Let me 
 come and sit in your rooms with you." 
 
 " No ! " he decided, almost roughly. " I am losing 
 myself, Sophy. I am losing something of my strength 
 every day. Louise doesn't help as she might. Don't 
 stay with me, please. I am beginning to have moods, 
 and when they come on I want to be alone." 
 
 She drew a little closer to him. 
 
 " Let me come, please ! " she begged, with a pathetic, 
 almost childlike quiver at the corner of her lips. 
 
 He looked down at her. A sudden wave of tenderness 
 swept every other thought from his mind. His mental 
 balance seemed suddenly restored. He hailed a pass- 
 ing taxi and handed Sophy into it. 
 
 " What a selfish pig I am ! " he exclaimed. " Any- 
 how, it's all over now. We'll go back to Luigi's to sup- 
 per, by all means. I am going to make you tell me all 
 about that young man from Bath ! "
 
 XXVII 
 
 Louise glanced at her watch, sat up in bed, and turned 
 reproachfully toward Aline. 
 
 " Aline, do you know it is only eleven o'clock ? " she 
 exclaimed. 
 
 " I am very sorry, madame," the latter hastened to 
 explain, " but there is a gentleman down-stairs who 
 wishes to see you. He says he will wait until you can, 
 receive him. I thought you would like to know." 
 
 " A gentleman at this hour of the morning? " Louise 
 yawned. " How absurd ! Anyhow, you ought to know 
 better than to wake me up before the proper time." 
 
 " I am very sorry, madame," Aline replied. " I 
 hesitated for some time, but I thought you would like 
 to know that the gentleman was here. It is Mr. Ste- 
 phen Strangewey Mr. John's brother." 
 
 Louise clasped her knees with her fingers and sab 
 thinking. She was wide awake now. 
 
 " He has been here some time already, madame" 
 Aline continued. " I did not wish to disturb you, but 
 I thought perhaps it was better for you to know that he 
 was here." 
 
 " Quite right, Aline," Louise decided. " Go down and 
 tell him that I will see him in half an hour, and get my 
 bath ready at once." 
 
 Louise dressed herself simply but carefullly. She 
 could conceive of but one reason for Stephen's presence 
 in her house, and it rather amused her. It was, of 
 course, no friendly visit. He had come either to
 
 242 THE HILLMAN 
 
 threaten or to cajole. Yet what could he do? What 
 had she to fear? She went over the interview in her 
 mind, imagining him crushed and subdued by her su- 
 perior subtlety and finesse. 
 
 With a little smile of coming triumph upon her lips 
 she descended the stairs and swept into her pleasantly 
 warmed and perfumed little drawing-room. She even 
 held out her hand cordially to the dark, grim figure 
 whose outline against the dainty white wall seemed so 
 inappropriate. 
 
 " This is very nice of you indeed, Mr. Strangewey," 
 she began. " I had no idea that you had followed your 
 brother's example and come to town." 
 
 She told herself once more that her slight instinct 
 of uneasiness had been absurd. Stephen's bow, al- 
 though a little formal and austere, was still an acknowl- 
 edgment of her welcome. The shadows of the room, 
 perhaps, had prevented him from seeing her out- 
 stretched hand. 
 
 " Mine is a very short visit, Miss Maurel," he said. 
 *' I had no other reason for coming but to see John and 
 to pay this call upon you." 
 
 " I am greatly flattered," she told him. " You must 
 please sit down and make yourself comfortable while 
 we talk. See, this is my favorite place," she added, 
 dropping into a corner of her lounge. " Will you sit 
 beside me? Or, if you prefer, draw up that chair." 
 
 " My preference," he replied, " is to remain stand- 
 ing." * 
 
 She raised her eyebrows. Her tone altered. 
 
 " It must be as you wish, of course," she continued ; 
 " only I have such pleasant recollections of your hos- 
 pitality at Peak Hall that I should like, if there was 
 any possible way in which I could return it "
 
 THE HILLMAN 243 
 
 " Madam," he interrupted, " you must admit that the 
 hospitality of Peak Hall was not willingly offered to 
 you. Save for the force of circumstances, you would 
 never have crossed our threshold." 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. She was adapting her 
 tone and manner to the belligerency of his attitude. 
 
 " Well? " 
 
 " You want to know why I have found my way to 
 London ? " he went on. " I came to find out a little 
 more about you." 
 
 "About me?" 
 
 " To discover if there was anything about you," he 
 proceeded deliberately, " concerning which report had 
 lied. I do not place my faith in newspapers and 
 gossip. There was always a chance that you might 
 have been an honest woman. That is why I came 
 to London, and why I went to see your play last 
 night." 
 
 She was speechless. It was as if he were speaking to 
 her in some foreign tongue. 
 
 " I have struggled," he continued, " to adopt a chari- 
 table view of your profession. I know that the world 
 changes quickly, while we, who prefer to remain out- 
 side its orbit, of necessity lose touch with its new ideas 
 and new fashions. So I said to myself that there 
 should be no mistake. For that reason I sat in a thea- 
 ter last night almost for the first time in my life. I 
 saw you act." 
 
 "Well?" she asked almost defiantly. 
 
 He looked down at her. All splendid self-assurance 
 seemed ebbing away. She felt a sudden depression of 
 spirit, a sudden strange sense of insignificance. 
 
 " I have come," he said, " if I can, to buy my broth- 
 er's freedom."
 
 244 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " To buy your brother's freedom ? " she repeated, in 
 a dazed tone. 
 
 " My brother is infatuated with you," Stephen de- 
 clared. " I wish to save him." 
 
 Her woman's courage began to assert itself. She 
 raised her eyes to his. 
 
 " Exactly what do you mean? " she asked calmly. 
 *' In what way is any man to be saved from me ? If 
 your brother should care for me, and I, by any chance, 
 should happen to care for him, in what respect would 
 that be a state from which he would require salva- 
 tion? " 
 
 " You make my task more difficult," he observed de- 
 liberately. " Does it amuse you to practise your pro- 
 fession before one so ignorant and so unappreciative as 
 myself? If my brother should ever marry, it is my 
 firm intention that he shall marry an honest woman." 
 
 Louise sat quite still for a moment. A flash of light- 
 ning had glittered before her eyes, and in her ears 
 was the crash of thunder. Her face was suddenly 
 strained. She saw nothing but the stern, forbidding 
 expression of the man who looked down at her. 
 
 " You dare to say this to me, here in my own 
 house? " 
 
 " Dare ? Why not ? Don't people tell you the 
 truth here in London, then? " 
 
 She rose a little unsteadily to her feet, motioning him 
 toward the door, and moving toward the bell. Sud- 
 denly she sank back into her former place, breathless 
 and helpless. 
 
 "Why do you waste your breath?" he asked 
 calmly. " We are alone here, and I we know the 
 truth ! " 
 
 She sat quite still, shivering a little.
 
 THE HILLMAN 245 
 
 " Do we ? Tell me, then, because I am curious < 
 tell me why you are so sure of what you say ? " 
 
 " The world has it," he replied, " that you are the 
 mistress of the Prince of Seyre. I came to London to 
 satisfy myself as to the truth of that report. Do you 
 believe that any man living, among that audience last 
 night, could watch the play and know that you passed, 
 night after night, into your bed-chamber to meet your 
 lover with that look upon your face you are a clever 
 actress, madam and believe that you were a woman, 
 who was living an honest life ? " 
 
 " That seems impossible to you? " she demanded. 
 
 " Utterly impossible ! " 
 
 "And to John?" 
 
 " I am speaking for myself and not for my brother," 
 Stephen replied. " Men like him, who are assailed by 
 a certain madness, are best left alone with it. That is 
 why I came to you to bargain, if I could. Is there 
 anything that you lack anything which your own 
 success and your lover, or lovers, have failed to provide 
 for you? " 
 
 It was useless to try to rise ; she was powerless in all 
 her limbs. Side by side with the anger and horror that 
 his words aroused was a sense of something almost gro- 
 tesque, something which seemed to force an unnatural 
 laugh from her lips. 
 
 " So you want to buy me off? " 
 
 " I should be glad to believe that it was within my 
 power to do so. I have not John's great fortune, but I 
 have money, the accumulated savings of a lifetime, for 
 which I have no better purpose. There is one more 
 thing, too, to be said." 
 
 " Another charge? " 
 
 " Not that," he told her ; " only it is better for you
 
 246 THE HILLMAN 
 
 to understand that if you turn me from your house 
 this morning, I shall still feel the necessity of saving 
 my brother from you." 
 
 " Saving him from me ? " she exclaimed, rising sud- 
 denly and throwing out her arms. " Do you know what 
 you are talking about? Do you know that if I con- 
 sented to think of your brother as my husband, there 
 is not a man in London who would not envy him ? Look 
 at me ! I am beautiful, am I not ? I am a great artist. 
 I am Louise Maurel, and I have made myself famous by 
 my own work and my own genius. What has your 
 brother done in life to render him worthy of the sacrifice 
 I should make if I chose to give him my hand? You 
 had better go back to Cumberland, Mr. Strangewey. 
 You do not see life as we see it up here 1 " 
 
 " And what about John? " he asked, without moving. 
 ** You tempted him away. Was it from wantonness, or 
 do you love him ? " 
 
 "Love him?" she laughed. "I hate you both! 
 You are boors you are ignorant people. I hate the 
 moment I ever saw either of you. Take John back 
 with you. Take him out of my life. There is no 
 place there for him ! " 
 
 Stephen picked up his hat from the sofa where it lay. 
 Louise remained perfectly still, her breath coming 
 quickly, her eyes lit with passion. 
 
 " Madam," he said, " I am sorry to have distressed 
 you, but the truth sometimes hurts the most callous of 
 us. You have heard the truth from me. I will take 
 John back to Cumberland with me, if he will come. If 
 he will not " 
 
 " Take him with you ! " she broke in fiercely. " He 
 wfll do as I bid him do you hear? If I lift my little 
 finger, he will stay. It will be I who decide, I "
 
 THE HILLMAN 247 
 
 " But you will not lift your little finger," he inter- 
 rupted grimly. 
 
 "Why shouldn't I, just to punish you?" she de- 
 manded. " There are scores of men who fancy them- 
 selves in love with me. x If I choose, I can keep them all 
 their lives hanging to the hem of my skirt, praying for 
 a word, a touch. I can make them furious one day and 
 penitent the next wretched always, perhaps, but I 
 can keep them there. Why should I not treat your 
 brother in the same way ? " 
 
 He seemed suddenly to dilate. She was overcome 
 with a sense of some latent power in the man, some com- 
 manding influence. 
 
 " Because," he declared, " I am the guardian of my 
 brother's happiness. Whoever trifles with it shall in 
 the future reckon with me ! " 
 
 His eyes were fixed upon her soft, white throat. His 
 long, lean fingers seemed suddenly to be drawing near 
 to her. She watched him, fascinated. She was trying 
 to scream. Even after he had turned away and left 
 her, after she had heard his measured tramp descend- 
 ing the stairs, her fingers flew to her throat. She held 
 herself tightly, standing there with beating heart and 
 throbbing pulses. It was not until the front door had 
 closed that she had the strength to move, to throw her- 
 self face downward upon the couch.
 
 XXVIII 
 
 Louise ate a very small luncheon, but an unusual 
 thing for her she drank two glasses of wine. Just 
 as she had finished, Sophy came in, with ink-stained fin- 
 gers and a serious expression. 
 
 " You silly child ! " Louise exclaimed. " No one told 
 me you were here. Have you had any lunch ? " 
 
 " Long ago," Sophy replied. " I have been finishing 
 your accounts." 
 
 Louise made a little grimace. 
 
 " Tell me the worst," she begged. 
 
 " You are overdrawn at your bank, your bills are 
 heavier than ever this month, and there are five or six 
 special accounts one for some electric fittings, an- 
 other for the hire of a motor-car which ought to be 
 paid." 
 
 " People are always wanting money ! " Louise de- 
 clared pettishly. 
 
 " People always will want money," Sophy retorted, 
 " so long as you earn three thousand a year and spend 
 four or five thousand ! " 
 
 Louise selected a cigarette and lit it. 
 
 " Instead of scolding me, child," she yawned, " sup- 
 pose you suggest something? " 
 
 " What is there to suggest? " Sophy replied. " Your 
 bank has written you to put your overdraft straight at 
 once it comes to about two hundred and seventy
 
 THE HILLMAN 249 
 
 pounds. There are bills, for which the people are ask- 
 ing for payment, and which come to about as much 
 again. You've nothing but your hundred pounds a 
 week, and you're spending half of that, as it is." 
 
 Louise flicked the ash from her cigarette. 
 
 " And even you, my child, don't know the worst," she 
 remarked. " There's Fenillon, my dressmaker. She 
 doesn't send me a bill at all, but I owe her nearly six 
 hundred pounds. I have to wear a shockingly unbe- 
 coming gown in the second act, as it is, just because 
 she's getting disagreeable." 
 
 " Well, I've tried to set things straight," Sophy de- 
 clared. " You'll have either to marry or to borrow 
 some money. You can't go on much longer ! " 
 
 Louise was looking up at the ceiling. She sighed. 
 
 " It would be nice," she said, " to have some one to 
 pay one's bills and look after one, and see that one 
 wasn't too extravagant." 
 
 " Well, you need some one badly," Sophy asserted. 
 " I suppose you mean to make up your mind to it some 
 day." 
 
 " I wonder ! " Louise murmured. " Did you know 
 that that terrible man from the hills John Strange- 
 wey's brother has been here this morning? He 
 frightened me almost to death." 
 
 " What did he want? " Sophy asked curiously. 
 
 " He was a trifle vague," Louise remarked. " I 
 gathered that if I don't send John back to Cumber- 
 land, he's going to strangle me." 
 
 Sophy leaned across the table. 
 
 " Are you going to send him back ? " she asked. 
 
 " I am in an uncertain frame of mind," Louise con* 
 fessed. " I really can't decide about anything." 
 
 Sophy poured herself out some coffee.
 
 250 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " I think," she said, " that you'll have to decide about 
 John before long." 
 
 " About John, indeed 1 " Louise exclaimed lightly. 
 " Who gave you the right to call him by his Christian 
 name?" 
 
 Sophy colored. 
 
 "I suppose I have just dropped into it," she re- 
 marked. " Tell me what you have decided to do, Lou- 
 ise? " 
 
 " Why should I do anything at all? " 
 
 " You know very well," Sophy insisted, " that you 
 have encouraged John Strangewey shamefully. You 
 have persuaded him to live up here, to make new friends, 
 and to start an entirely new mode of life, just in the 
 hope that some day you will marry him." 
 
 " Have I? " Louise asked. " Then I suppose I must 
 keep my word some day ! " 
 
 Sophy drew her chair a little nearer to her friend's. 
 She passed her arm around Louise's waist ; their heads 
 almost touched. 
 
 " Dear Louise," she whispered, " please tell me ! " 
 
 Louise was silent. Her hesitation became momen- 
 tous. Her eyes seemed to be looking through the walls. 
 Sophy watched her breathlessly. 
 
 " You ought to make up your mind," she went on. 
 " You see, it isn't as if there was no one else. There is 
 the prince." 
 
 Sophy felt the fingers that she was clasping grow a 
 little colder. 
 
 " Yes," Louise repeated, " there is the prince. So- 
 phy, I feel that I am drifting into an impossible posi- 
 tion. Every day is bringing me nearer to it." 
 
 " I want to tell you this, Louise," Sophy said firmly. 
 " John is getting to know a great many people, and you
 
 THE HILLMAN 251 
 
 know how men talk at the clubs. Aren't you some- 
 times afraid that he will hear things and misunder- 
 stand?" 
 
 " I am expecting it every day," Louise admitted. 
 
 " Then why don't you end it? " 
 
 "Which way?" 
 
 i There was a silence between the two women. The 
 
 I muffled street noises from outside became the back- 
 
 j ground to a stillness which grew every moment more 
 
 'oppressive. Louise returned to her former attitude. 
 
 She looked steadfastly before her, her face supported 
 
 by her hands. 
 
 Sophy grew paler and paler as the minutes passed. 
 There was something strange and almost beautiful in 
 Louise's face, something which had come to her lately, 
 and which shone from her eyes only at rare intervals. 
 
 " You care for him, I believe ! " Sophy cried at last. 
 '* You care for him ! " 
 
 Louise did not move. 
 
 *' Why not? " she whispered. 
 
 " You, Louise ! " Sophy gasped. " You, the great 
 artist ! Why, think of the men who have tried to make 
 you care poets, musicians so many of them, so 
 many famous men! It can't be true. John Strange- 
 wey is so far apart. He doesn't belong to your 
 world." 
 
 \ Louise leaned over and stroked her little friend's 
 hair. 
 
 " Child," she said, " that's all very true. I have had 
 it ringing in my brain for longer than you would be- 
 lieve. But now tell me something. No, look at me 
 don't be ashamed. Are you in love with John your- 
 self?" 
 
 Sophy never hesitated.
 
 252 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " From the very first moment I saw him," she con- 
 fessed. " Don't let that bother you, dear. He would 
 never look at me except as a little pal. I never ex- 
 pected anything from him anything serious, of 
 course never dared to hope for it. I have thrown 
 myself at his head in the most shameless manner. It is 
 all no good. I never met any one like him before. 
 Louise, do you know that he is good really good ? " 
 
 *' I believe he is," Louise murmured. " That is what 
 makes it so wonderful." 
 
 " It's all incomprehensible," Sophy declared wearily. 
 
 There was a ring at the front door. Louise, from 
 her place, could see the long, gray bonnet of John's 
 car. Almost before she could speak, he was announced. 
 
 " It's an atrocious time to come, I know " he began 
 apologetically. 
 
 "You're in time for some coffee, anyhow," Sophy 
 told him cheerfully. " And I know Louise is glad to 
 see you, because if you hadn't come I was going to make 
 her go through some accounts." 
 
 " You know I am always glad to see you," Louise 
 murmured, pointing to a chair. " Sophy and I have 
 been having a most interesting discussion, but we have 
 come to a cul-de-sac." 
 
 " I really came," John explained, " to ask if you 
 cared to come and see a collection of pictures. There's 
 an Italian a Futurist, of course just unpacked his 
 little lot and set them up over a curiosity-shop in Clif- 
 ford Street. He is sending out cards for next week, 
 but I could take you to-day that is, if you would 
 care about it. We can go somewhere for some tea aft- 
 erward." 
 
 Louise made a little grimace. 
 
 ** What bad luck ! " she exclaimed.
 
 THE HILLMAN 253 
 
 She stopped short. She felt that by her hesitation 
 she had, in a sense, committed herself. 
 
 " I have promised to go and have tea with the prince 
 at Seyre House," she said. " It is an engagement we 
 made last week." 
 
 John set down his empty coffee-cup with a clatter. 
 An inexplicable but dominating fury seemed to have 
 suddenly assailed him. He took out a cigarette and 
 tried to light it. Sophy, after watching him for a mo- 
 ment in astonishment, slipped out of the room. Lou- 
 ise came over to his side. 
 
 " Are you really so much disappointed ? " she asked. 
 " I am so sorry. If I had known that you were coming 
 for me, I would have kept myself free." 
 
 " It isn't that exactly," John answered. *' It's some- 
 thing I can't altogether explain. If you don't mind, I 
 think I will be going. There is something I must put 
 right." 
 
 He left without another word. She watched him 
 step into his new motor-car and drive away a little reck- 
 lessly, considering the crowded state of the streets. He 
 drew up, a few minutes later, outside the club in Pall 
 Mall, where, as it chanced, he had lunched that day with 
 the Prince of Seyre. 
 
 He found the prince still sitting in the smoking room, 
 reading a review, over the top of which he glanced up as 
 John approached, and nodded nonchalantly. 
 
 " Back again ? " he murmured. 
 
 '* I came back to have a word with you, prince." 
 
 The prince laid down the review, keeping his finger in 
 the place. 
 
 " Delighted ! " 
 
 " Not long ago," John went on, " in this room, some 
 one I think it was Major Charters asked you what
 
 254 THE HILLMAN 
 
 you were doing this afternoon. You replied that you 
 were engaged. There were several others present, and 
 they began to chaff you. Perhaps I joined in I 
 don't remember. I think that it was Major Charters 
 who asked you, to use his own words, whether your ap- 
 pointment was with a lady. You replied in the affirma- 
 tive. There was a little volley of chaff. You listened 
 without contradiction to many references concerning 
 the nature of your afternoon's amusement." 
 
 The prince nodded slightly. His face remained quite 
 expressionless. 
 
 " As a matter of fact," John concluded, " I have dis- 
 covered by the purest accident that Miss Maurel is to 
 be your guest this afternoon at Seyre House." 
 
 The prince inclined his head gently. He remained 
 monosyllabic. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 John frowned heavily. 
 
 " Can't you see," he went on bluntly, " that if any 
 one of those men who were present, and heard what was 
 said about your guest, found out afterward that it was 
 Miss Maurel who came to see you well, I need not go 
 on, need I? I am sure you understand. The things 
 which were hinted at could not possibly apply to her. 
 !Would you mind sending a note to Miss Maurel and 
 asking her to have tea with you some other afternoon ? " 
 
 " And why the deuce should I do that? " the prince 
 asked, a trifle paler, but entirely self-possessed. 
 
 " To oblige me," John replied. 
 
 The prince wiped his eye-glass carefully upon his 
 handkerchief. 
 
 " Mr. Strangewey, you are a very amiable young 
 man," he said equably, " to whom I have tried to show 
 some kindness for Miss Maurel's sake. I really do not
 
 THE HILLMAN 255 
 
 see, however pardon my putting it plainly what 
 business this is of yours." 
 
 " It is my business," John declared, " because I have 
 asked Miss Maurel to be my wife, and because I am hop- 
 ing that some day, before very long, she will consent." 
 
 The prince sat quite still in his chair, his eyes fixed 
 upon a certain spot in the carpet. He had not even the 
 appearance of being engaged in thought. He seemed 
 only steeped in a sort of passivity. Finally, with a 
 sigh, he rose to his feet. 
 
 " My young friend," he decided, " your statement al- 
 ters the situation. I did not credit you with matrimo- 
 nial intentions. I must see what can be done ! " 
 
 His lips had relaxed ever so slightly so slightly 
 that they showed only a glimpse of his teeth in one 
 straight, hard line. He looked at John mildly, and his 
 words seemed destitute of all offense ; yet John felt that 
 the lightnings were playing around them. 
 
 " I shall write a note to Miss Maurel," the prince 
 promised, as he made his way toward the writing-table, 
 " and ask her to visit me upon some other afternoon."
 
 XXIX 
 
 Back again to his rooms, and, later on, once more 
 to Louise's little house in Kensington; a few minutes' 
 masterful pleading, and then success. Louise wrapped 
 herself up and descended to the street by his side. 
 
 For an hour or more John drove steadily westward, 
 scarcely speaking more than a chance word. It was 
 twilight when he brought the car to a standstill. Lou- 
 ise raised her veil and looked up. 
 
 " Well ? " she asked inquiringly. 
 
 He pushed back the throttle on his steering-wheel and 
 stopped the engine. Then he turned toward her. 
 
 " I have something to say to you," he said. " I have 
 brought you here that I may say it in my own way 
 and in my own atmosphere." 
 
 She responded instantly to his mood, although she did 
 not yet grasp the full significance of the situation. She 
 leaned forward in the car, and her eyes were lighted 
 with interest. Into their faces a slight, drizzling rain 
 was carried at intervals by a gusty, north wind. The 
 sky was murky gray, except for one black mass of cloud 
 that seemed bending almost over their heads. 
 
 Down at their feet they had made a circuit and 
 were facing London again began the long lines of 
 feeble lights which lit the great avenues stretching on- 
 ward to the city, the lights of suburban thoroughfares, 
 of local railways, and here and there a more brilliant 
 illumination of some picture palace or place of amuse- 
 ment. Farther away still, the vast glow from the heart
 
 THE HILLMAN 257 
 
 of the city was beginning to flare against the murky 
 sky here red and threatening, as if from some great 
 conflagration; in other places yellow, with a sicklier 
 light of fog-strangled brilliance. 
 
 ** This is like you ! " Louise murmured. " You had 
 to bring me out to a hilltop, on the dreariest hour of a 
 wet March afternoon, to tell me what? " 
 
 " First of all," John began, " I will answer a question 
 which you have asked me three times since we started 
 out this afternoon. You wanted to know how I found 
 out that you were not going to tea with the prince. 
 Well, here is the truth. I asked the prince to change 
 the day of your visit to him." 
 
 Her fine, silky eyebrows came a little closer together. 
 
 " You asked him that ? " she repeated. 
 
 John nodded. 
 
 " And he consented? " 
 
 " I will explain," John continued. " It was a most 
 unfortunate circumstance, but in the club, after lunch, 
 the subject of spending the afternoon came up. The 
 prince spoke of an engagement. He was tied at home, 
 he said, from four to six. Some of the men began to 
 chaff him, and suggested that he was entertaining some 
 lady friend, his latest favorite well, I dare say you 
 can imagine the rest," John broke off. " The prince, 
 thoughtlessly, I am sure, and probably to get rid of 
 them, pleaded guilty. Then I came down to see you, 
 and from what you said I discovered that it was you 
 who were to be his visitor." 
 
 Her fingers played nervously for a moment with the 
 edge of the rug. She drew it higher up. 
 
 " Well, when I left your house the first time this aft- 
 ernoon, I went straight back to the prince. I pointed 
 out to him that after what had been said, as it might
 
 258 THE HILLMAN 
 
 become known that you were his guest of to-day, i 
 would be better for him to postpone your visit. He 
 agreed to do so." 
 
 " Was that all that passed between you ? " 
 
 " Not quite," John replied. " He asked me what 
 concern it was of mine, and I told him exactly what my 
 concern was. I told him I hoped that some day you 
 would be my wife." 
 
 She sat quite still, looking down upon the flaring 
 lights. She was filled with a restless desire to escape, 
 to start the motor herself and rush through the wet air 
 into London and safety. And side by side with that 
 idesire she knew that there was nothing in the world she 
 wanted so much as to stay just where she was, and to 
 hear just the words she was going to hear. 
 
 " So much for that ! " John proceeded. " And now, 
 please listen. I have brought you out here because 
 under these conditions I feel more master of myself and 
 my thoughts, and of the things I want to say to you. 
 Something takes me by the throat in your little draw- 
 ing-room, with its shaded lights, its perfume of flowers, 
 and its atmosphere of perfection. You sit enthroned 
 there like the queen of a world I know nothing of, and 
 all the time letters and flowers and flattering invitations 
 are showered upon you from the greatest men in Lon- 
 don. The atmosphere there stifles me, Louise. Out 
 here you are a woman and I a man, and those other 
 things fall away. I have tried my best to come a little 
 way into sympathy with your life. I want you now to 
 make up your mind to come down a little way into 
 mine ! " 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " We are still too far apart," she murmured. 
 " Can't you understand that yourself ? "
 
 THE HILLMAN 259 
 
 " I have been a pupil for many months," he answered, 
 turning toward her, with one arm at the back of her 
 cushions and the fingers of the other hand suddenly 
 seeking hers. " Can't you understand, if you do care a 
 little, if you have just a little flame of love in your heart 
 for me, that many of these other things which keep us 
 apart are like the lime-light which flashes out to give 
 artificial light in an honest darkness? Don't you be- 
 lieve, at the bottom of your heart, that you can be hap- 
 pier if you will climb with me to the place where we 
 first met, even where the clouds lean over my own hills? 
 You thought me very narrow then. Perhaps I am. 
 But I think you are beginning to understand, dear, that 
 that life is only a type. We can wander about where 
 you will. My hills are only the emblems of the things 
 that are dear to me. There are many countries I want 
 to visit. I don't want to cramp your life. You can't 
 really be afraid of that, because it is the most widening 
 thing in the world that I have to give you my love, 
 the love of my heart and my soul ! " 
 
 She felt the sudden snapping of every nerve in her 
 body, the passing away of all sense of will or resistance. 
 She was conscious only of the little movement toward 
 him, the involuntary yielding of herself. She lay back 
 in his arms, and the kisses which closed her eyes and lips 
 seemed to be working some strange miracle. 
 
 She was in some great empty space, breathing won- 
 derful things. She was on the hilltops, and from the 
 heights she looked down at herself as she had been 
 a poor little white-faced puppet, strutting about an 
 overheated stage, in a fetid atmosphere of adulation, 
 with a brain artificially stimulated, and a heart growing 
 cold with selfishness. She pitied herself as she had been. 
 Then she opened her eyes with a start of joy.
 
 a6o THE HILLMAN 
 
 " How wonderful it all is ! " she murmured. " You 
 brought me here to tell me this ? " 
 
 " And to hear something ! " he insisted. 
 
 " I have tried not to, John," she confessed, amazed 
 at the tremble of her sweet, low voice. Her words 
 seemed like the confession of a weeping child. " I can- 
 not help it. I do love you! I have tried not to so 
 hard, but now now I shall not try any more ! " 
 
 They drove quietly down the long hill and through 
 the dripping streets. Not another word passed be- 
 tween them till they drew up outside her door. She felt 
 a new timidity as he handed her out, an immense grati- 
 tude for his firm tone and intuitive tact. 
 
 " No, I won't come in, thanks," he declared. " You 
 have so little time to rest and get ready for the theater." 
 
 " You will be there to-night ? " she asked. 
 
 He laughed as if there were humor in the suggestion 
 of his absence. 
 
 " Of course ! " 
 
 He slipped in his clutch and drove off through the 
 rain-gleaming streets with the smile and air of a con- 
 queror. Louise passed into her little house to find a 
 visitor waiting for her there.
 
 XXX 
 
 Eugene, Prince of Seyre, had spent the early part 
 of that afternoon in a manner wholly strange to him. 
 In pursuance of an order given to his majordomo im- 
 mediately on his return from the club after lunch, the 
 great reception rooms of Seyre House, the picture-gal- 
 lery and the ballroom, were prepared as if for a recep- 
 tion. Dust-sheets were swept aside, masterpieces of 
 painting and sculpture were uncovered, the soft bril- 
 liance of concealed electric lights lit up many dark cor- 
 ners. 
 
 When all was ready, the prince, with his hands 
 clasped behind him, with expressionless face and slow, 
 thoughtful movements, passed from room to room of 
 the treasure-house which had come to him through 
 a long line of distinguished and famous men. Here 
 and there he paused to handle with the fingers of a con- 
 noisseur some excellent piece of bronze statuary, some 
 miracle of Sevres china, some treasure of carved ivory, 
 yellow with age. And more than once he stood still 
 for several minutes in rapt contemplation of one of 
 the great masterpieces with which the walls were hung. 
 
 As he passed, a solitary figure, from one to another 
 of that long chain of lofty, palatial rooms, his stature 
 seemed more than ever insignificant; yet he walked al- 
 ways with the dignity of the master. Notwithstanding 
 the slight excesses of his immaculate morning dress, 
 his pallid features, his insignificant build, he appeared
 
 262 THE HILLMAN 
 
 to belong to these things, to dominate them, to under- 
 stand them. Every beautiful object upon which he 
 looked brought back to his memory some reminiscence 
 of his years of travel. He knew the history of the 
 chinas and the bronzes, the statuary and the lacquer- 
 work, the friezes, and the great pictures which adorned 
 his house. Perhaps, he thought, as he paused to study 
 some Italian tapestry of his own discovery, he had spent 
 too many years in the contemplative life. 
 
 There had been many careers open to him in his 
 younger days. France was still his own country, and 
 he might easily have joined the long line of soldiers 
 whose portraits filled one side of the picture-gallery. 
 Once he had had ambitions, either to wield the sword 
 or to take his place in the world of diplomacy. It was 
 his political inheritance which had deadened them, the 
 awful debt of blood that he still owed to the enemies 
 of his race. He had found the spirit of patriotism 
 dead within him, and in that day he had turned his back 
 upon his country. Since then he had carried his great 
 name through the pleasure places of the world, always 
 upholding its dignity, perhaps, but never adding to its 
 luster. 
 
 He was forty-one years old that day, and the few 
 words which John had spoken to him barely an hour 
 ago had made him realize that there was only one thing 
 in life that he desired. The sight of his treasures 
 merely soothed his vanity. It left empty and unsatis- 
 fied his fuller and deeper desire of living. He told 
 himself that his time had come. Others of his race 
 had paid a great price for the things they had coveted 
 in life. He, too, must follow their example. 
 
 He was in Louise's drawing-room when she returned 
 Louise, with hair and cheeks a little damp, but with
 
 THE HILLMAN 263 
 
 a wonderful light in her eyes and with footsteps that 
 seemed to fall upon air. 
 
 *' Some tea and a bath this moment, Aline ! " she 
 called out, as she ran lightly up the stairs. " Never 
 mind about dinner, I am so late. I will have some toast. 
 Be quick ! " 
 
 " Madame " Aline began. 
 
 " Don't bother me about anything now," Louise in- 
 terrupted. " I will throw my things off while you get 
 the bath ready." 
 
 She stepped into her little room, throwing off her 
 cloak as she entered. Then she stopped short, almost 
 upon the threshold. The prince had risen to his feet. 
 
 " Eugene ! " 
 
 He came toward her. Even as he stooped to kiss her 
 fingers, his eyes seemed to take in her disheveled condi- 
 tion, the little patches of color in her cheeks, the radiant 
 happiness which shone in her eyes. 
 
 " I am not an unwelcome intruder, I hope," he said. 
 " But how wet you are ! " 
 
 The fingers which he released fell nervelessly to her 
 side. She stood looking at him as if confronted with 
 a sudden nightmare. It was as if this new-found life 
 were being slowly drained from her veins. 
 
 " You are overtired," he murmured, leading her with 
 solicitude toward an easy chair. " One would imagine, 
 from your appearance, that I was the bearer of some 
 terrible tidings. Let me assure you that it is not so." 
 
 He spoke with his usual deliberation, but she seemed 
 powerless to recover herself. She was still dazed and 
 white. She sank into the chair and looked at him. 
 
 " Nothing, I trust," he went on, " has happened to 
 disturb you?" 
 i " Nothing at all," she declared hastily. " I am
 
 264 THE HILLMAN 
 
 tired. I ran up-stairs perhaps a little too quickly. 
 Aline had not told me that there was any one 
 here." 
 
 " I had a fancy to see you this afternoon," the prince 
 explained, " and, finding you out, I took the liberty of 
 waiting. If you would rather I went away and came 
 for you later, please do not hesitate to say so." 
 
 " Of course not ! " she exclaimed. " I do not know 
 why I should have been so silly. Aline, take my coat 
 and veil," she directed, turning to the maid, who was 
 lingering at the other end of the room. " I am not 
 wet. Serve some tea in here. I will have my bath 
 later, when I change to go to the theater." 
 
 She spoke bravely, but fear was in her heart. She 
 tried to tell herself that this visit was a coincidence, 
 that it meant nothing, but all the time she knew other- 
 wise. 
 
 The door closed behind Aline, and they were alone. 
 The prince, as if anxious to give her time to recover 
 herself, walked to the window and stood for some mo- 
 ments looking out. When he turned around, Louise 
 had at least nerved herself to meet what she felt was 
 imminent. 
 
 The prince approached her deliberately. She knew 
 what he was going to say. 
 
 " Louise," he began, drawing a chair to her side, " I 
 have found myself thinking a great deal about you dur- 
 ing the last few weeks." 
 
 She did not interrupt him. She simply waited and 
 watched. 
 
 " I have come to a certain determination," he pro- 
 ceeded ; " one which, if you will grace it with your ap- 
 proval, will give me great happiness. I ask you to for- 
 get certain things which have passed between us. I
 
 THE HILLMAN 265 
 
 have come to you to-day to beg you to do me the honor 
 of becoming my wife." 
 
 She turned her head very slowly until she was looking 
 him full in the face. Her lips were a little parted, her 
 eyes a little strained. The prince was leaning toward 
 her in a conventional attitude; his words had been 
 spoken simply and in his usual conversational manner. 
 There was something about him, however, profoundly 
 convincing. 
 
 " Your wife ! " Louise repeated. 
 
 " If you will do me that great honor." 
 
 It seemed at first as if her nerves were strained to 
 the breaking-point. The situation was one with which 
 her brain seemed unable to grapple. She set her teeth 
 tightly. Then she had a sudden interlude of wonderful 
 clear-sightedness. She was almost cool. 
 
 " You must forgive my surprise, Eugene," she 
 begged. " We have known each other now for some 
 twelve years, have we not ? and I believe that this is 
 the first time you have ever hinted at anything of the 
 sort!" 
 
 " One gathers wisdom, perhaps, with the years," he 
 replied. " I am forty-one years old to-day. I have 
 spent the early hours of this afternoon in reflection, 
 and behold the result ! " 
 
 " You have spoken to me before," she said slowly, 
 " of different things. You have offered me a great deal 
 in life, but never your name. I do not understand this 
 sudden change ! " 
 
 " Louise," he declared, " if I do not tell you the truth 
 now, you will probably guess it. Besides, this is the 
 one time in their lives when a man and a woman should 
 speak nothing but the truth. It is for fear of losing 
 you that is why."
 
 266 THE HILLMAN 
 
 Her self-control suddenly gave way. She threw her- 
 self back in her chair. She began to laugh and stopped 
 abruptly, the tears streaming from her eyes. The 
 prince leaned forward. He took her hands in his, but 
 she drew them away. 
 
 " You are too late, Eugene ! " she said. " I almost 
 loved you. I was almost yours to do whatever you 
 liked with. But somehow, somewhere, notwithstanding 
 all your worldly knowledge and mine, we missed it. We 
 do not know the truth about life, you and I at least 
 you do not, and I did not." 
 
 He rose very slowly to his feet. There was no visi- 
 ble change in his face save a slight whitening of the 
 cheeks. 
 
 " And the sequel to this ? " he asked. 
 
 " I have promised to marry John Strangewey," she 
 told him. 
 
 " That," he replied, " is impossible ! I have a prior 
 claim." 
 
 The light of battle flamed suddenly in her eyes. Her 
 nervousness had gone. She was a strong woman, face 
 to face with him now, taller than he, seeming, indeed, 
 to tower over him in the splendor of her anger. She 
 was like a lioness threatened with the loss of the one 
 dear thing. 
 
 " Assert it, then ! " she cried defiantly. " Do what 
 you will. Go to him this minute, if you have courage 
 enough, if it seems to you well. Claim, indeed ! Right ! 
 I have the one right every woman in the world possesses 
 to give herself, body and soul, to the man she loves ! 
 That is the only claim and the only right I recognize, 
 and I am giving myself to him, when he wants me, 
 forever ! " 
 
 She stopped suddenly. Neither of them had heard
 
 THE HILLMAN 267 
 
 a discreet knock at the door. Aline had entered with 
 the tea. There was a moment of silence. 
 
 " Put it down here by my side, Aline," her mistress 
 ordered, " and show the Prince of Seyre out." 
 
 Aline held the door open. For a single moment the 
 prince hesitated. Then he picked up his hat and bowed. 
 
 " Perhaps," he said, " this may not be the last 
 word ! "
 
 XXXI 
 
 Jennings stood with a decanter in his hand, looking 
 resentfully at his master's untasted wine. He shook 
 his head ponderously. Not only was the wine un- 
 touched, but the Cumberland Times lay unopened upon 
 the table. Grim and severe in his high-backed chair, 
 Stephen Strangewey sat with his eyes fixed upon the 
 curtained window. 
 
 " There's nothing wrong with the wine, I hope, sir ? " 
 the man asked. "It's not corked or anything, sir?'* 
 
 " Nothing is the matter with it," Stephen answered. 
 " Bring me my pipe." 
 
 Jennings shook his head firmly. 
 
 " There's no call for you, sir," he declared, " to drop 
 out of your old habits. You shall have your pipe when 
 you've drunk that glass of port, and not before. Bless 
 me! There's the paper by your side, all unread, and 
 full of news, for I've glanced it through myself. Corn 
 was higher yesterday at Market Ketton, and there's 
 talk of a bad shortage of fodder in some parts." 
 
 Stephen raised his glass to his lips and drained its 
 contents. 
 
 " Now bring me my pipe, Jennings," he ordered. 
 
 The old man was still disposed to grumble. 
 
 " Drinking wine like that as if it were some public- 
 house stuff ! " he muttered, as he crossed the room, 
 toward the sideboard. " It's more a night, this, to my 
 way of thinking, for drinking a second glass of wine
 
 THE HILLMAN 269 
 
 than for shilly-shallying with the first. There's the 
 wind coming across Townley Moor and down the Fella 
 strong enough to blow the rocks out of the ground. It 
 'minds me of the time Mr. John was out with the Ter- 
 ritorials, and they tried the moor for their big guns." 
 
 The rain lashed the window-panes, and the wind 
 whistled past the front of the house. Stephen sat quite 
 still, as if listening it may have been to the storm. 
 
 " Well, here's your pipe, sir," Jennings continued, 
 laying it by his master's side, " and your tobacco and 
 the matches. If you'd smoke less and drink a glass 
 or two more of the right stuff, it would be more to my; 
 liking." 
 
 Stephen filled his pipe with firm fingers. Then he 
 laid it down, unlit, by his side. 
 
 ** Bring me back the port, Jennings," he ordered^ 
 " and a glass for yourself." 
 
 Jennings obeyed promptly. Stephen filled both 
 glasses, and the two men looked at each other as they 
 held them out. 
 
 " Here's confusion to all women ! " Stephen said, as 
 he raised his to his lips. 
 
 " Amen, sir ! " Jennings muttered. 
 
 They set down the two empty glasses. Stephen lit 
 his pipe. He sat smoking stolidly, blowing out great 
 clouds of smoke. Jennings retreated, coughing re- 
 sentfully. 
 
 " Spoils the tast of good wine, that tobacco do,'* 
 he snapped. " Good port like that should be left to lie 
 upon the palate, so to speak. Bless me, what's that? " 
 
 Above the roar of the wind came another and un- 
 mistakable sound. The front door had been opened 
 and shut. There were steps upon the stone floor of 
 the hall firm, familiar steps.
 
 270 THE HILLMAN 
 
 Jennings, with his mouth open, stood staring at the 
 door. Stephen slowly turned his head. The hand 
 which held his pipe was as firm as a rock, but there was 
 a queer little gleam of expectation in his eyes. Then 
 the door was thrown open and John entered. The rain 
 was dripping from his clothes. He was breathless from 
 his struggle with the elements. 
 
 The two other men looked at him fixedly. They both 
 realized the same thing at the same moment there 
 was no trace of the returned prodigal in John's coun^ 
 tenance, or in his buoyant expression. The ten-mile 
 ride seemed to have brought back all his color. 
 
 ** Master John ! " Jennings faltered. 
 
 Stephen said nothing. John crossed the room and 
 gripped his brother's hand. 
 
 " Wet through to the skin, and starving ! " he de- 
 clared. " I thought I'd find something at Ketton, but 
 it was all I could do to get Gibson, at the George, to 
 lend me a horse. Give me a glass of wine, Jennings. 
 I'll change my clothes I expect you've kept them 
 aired." 
 
 Not a word of explanation concerning his sudden 
 return, nor did either of the two ask any questions. 
 They set the bell clanging in the stable-yard and found 
 shelter for the borrowed horse. Presently, in dry 
 clothes, John sat down to a plentiful meal. His brother 
 watched him with a grim smile. 
 
 " You haven't forgotten how to eat in London, 
 John," he remarked. 
 
 " If I had, a ten-mile ride on a night like this would 
 help me to remember! How's the land doing? " 
 
 " Things are backward. The snow lay late, and 
 we've had drying winds." 
 
 "And the stock?"
 
 THE HILLMAN ayr 
 
 "Moderate. We are short of heifers. But you 
 didn't come back from London to ask about the farm." 
 
 John pushed back his plate and drew his chair op- 
 posite to his brother's. 
 
 " I did not," he assented. " I came back to tell you 
 my news." 
 
 " I was thinking that might be it," Stephen muttered. 
 
 John crossed the room, found his pipe in a drawer, 
 filled it with tobacco, and lit it. 
 
 " Old man," he said, as he returned to his place, 
 " it's all very well for you and old Jennings to put your 
 heads together every night and drink confusion to all 
 women ; but you know very well that if there are to be 
 any more Strangeweys at Peak Hall, either you or I 
 must marry ! " 
 
 Stephen moved uneasily in his chair. 
 
 " If you're going to marry that woman " he began. 
 
 " I am going to marry Louise Maurel," John inter- 
 rupted firmly. " Stephen, listen to me for a moment 
 before you say another word, please. It is all settled. 
 She has promised to be my wife. I don't forget what 
 we've been to each other. I don't forget the old name 
 and the old tradition ; but I have been fortunate enough 
 , to meet a woman whom I love, and I am going to marry 
 her. Don't speak hurriedly, Stephen! Think what- 
 ever you will, but keep it to yourself. Some day I 
 shall expect you to give me your hand and tell me you 
 are glad." 
 
 Stephen knocked the ashes deliberately from his pipe. 
 
 " I will tell you this much now," he said. " I had 
 rather that we Strangeweys died out, that the roof 
 dropped off Peak Hall and the walls stood naked to 
 the sky, than that this woman should be your wife and 
 the mother of your children ! "
 
 272 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " Let it go at that, then, Stephen," John replied. 
 " It is enough for me to say that I will not take it ill 
 from you, because you do not know her." 
 
 " But I do know her," Stephen answered. " Per- 
 haps she didn't tell you that I paid her a visit? " 
 
 " You paid her a visit? " 
 
 " Aye, that I did ! She wouldn't tell you. There'll 
 be many a thing in life she won't tell you. I went to 
 let her hear from my lips what I thought of her as a 
 wife for you. I told her what I thought of a woman 
 who plays the part of a wanton " 
 
 " Stephen ! " John thundered. 
 
 " The part of an adulterous wife upon the stage for 
 every man and woman who pay their silver to go and 
 gape at ! It seems I did no good no good, that is, 
 if she has promised to marry you." 
 
 John drew a breath. His task was harder, even, 
 than he had imagined. All the time he tried to keep 
 one thought fixed in his mind. Stephen was his elder 
 brother. It was Stephen who had been his guardian 
 and his guide through all his youth. He thought of 
 Stephen's fifty odd years of simple and strenuous living, 
 of his charity, of his strength that very strength 
 which had kept him in the narrow way, which had kept 
 him from looking to the right or to the left in his walk 
 through life. 
 
 " Stephen," John said, " you are growing harder 
 with the years. Was there never a time, when you 
 were younger, when you were my age, when you felt 
 differently toward women ? " 
 
 " Never, thank Heaven ! " Stephen replied. " I was 
 too near the sorrow that fell upon our house when our 
 father died with a broken heart. There were the other 
 two as well one with a bullet in his brain, the other
 
 THE HILLMAN 273 
 
 a drunkard. Maybe, when I was your age, I felt at 
 times what I suppose you feel. Well, I just took it 
 in both hands and strangled it. If you must have a 
 sweetheart, why don't you take the little fair-haired 
 girl Sophy, you called her ? She'd do you as little 
 harm as any of them." 
 
 " Because it is not a sweetheart of that sort I want," 
 John protested vigorously. " I've had the same feel- 
 ings as most men, I suppose, but I've fought my battle 
 out to the end, only for a different reason. I want a 
 wife and I want children." 
 
 " Will she bring you children, that woman ? " Stephen 
 asked bitterly. 
 
 " I hope so," John asserted simply. " I believe 
 so." 
 
 There was a moment's silence. Stephen lit his pipe 
 and puffed steadily at it, his eyes fixed upon the log 
 that blazed on the hearth. 
 
 " There is a muzzle upon my mouth," he said pres- 
 ently. " There are words close to my lips which would 
 part you and me, so I'll say no more. Go your own 
 way, John. I'll ask you but one more question, and 
 you must take that as man from man, brother from 
 brother. How old is she? " 
 
 " Twenty-seven." 
 
 " And she has been an actress, playing parts like 
 the one I saw her in, for how long? " 
 
 " Since she was nineteen," John replied. 
 
 " And you believe she's a good woman ? " 
 
 John gripped at the sides of his chair. With a tre- 
 mendous effort he kept the torrent of words from his 
 lips. 
 
 " I know she is," he answered calmly. 
 
 " Has she told you so? "
 
 274 THE HILLMAN 
 
 "A man has no need to put such a question to the 
 woman he cares for." 
 
 " Then you haven't asked her ? " 
 
 John laid down his pipe and rose to his feet. He 
 gripped his brother by the arm. 
 
 " Stephen," he said, " it's a hard fight for me, this, 
 to sit face to face with you and know what you are 
 thinking, with the love for this woman strong and sweet 
 in my heart. You don't understand, Stephen; you're 
 a long way from understanding. But you are my 
 brother. Don't make it too hard! I am not a child. 
 Believe in me. I would not take any woman to be my 
 wife, and the mother of my children, who was not a 
 good woman. I am off to-morrow morning, Stephen. 
 I came all the way just on an impulse, because I felt 
 that I must tell you myself. It would be one of the 
 best things in the world to ride that ten miles back 
 again to-morrow morning, to have told you how things 
 are, to have felt your hand in mine, and to know that 
 there was no shadow of misunderstanding between us ! " 
 
 Stephen, too, rose to his feet. They stood together 
 before the fire. 
 
 *' Man to man, John," Stephen said, as he gripped his 
 brother by the hands, " I love you this moment as I 
 always have done and as I always shall do. And if this 
 thing must be between us, I'll say but one last word, 
 and you'll take it from me, even though I am the only 
 man on earth you'd take it from. Before you marry, 
 ask her 1 "
 
 XXXII 
 
 John went back to town, telling himself that all had 
 gone as well as he had expected. He had done his duty. 
 He had told Stephen his news, and they had parted 
 friends. Yet all the time he was conscious of an under- 
 current of disconcerting thoughts. 
 
 Louise met him at the station, and he fancied that 
 her expression, too, although she welcomed him gaily 
 enough, was a little anxious. 
 
 " Well ? " she asked, as she took his arm and led him 
 to where her motor-car was waiting. " What did that 
 terrible brother of yours say? " 
 
 John made a little grimace. 
 
 " It might have been worse," he declared. " Stephen 
 wasn't pleased, of course. He hates women like poison, 
 and he always will. That is because he doesn't know 
 very much about them, and because he will insist upon 
 dwelling upon certain unhappy incidents of our family 
 history." 
 
 " I shall never forget the morning he came to call 
 on me," Louise sighed. " He threatened all sorts of 
 terrible things if I did not give you up." 
 
 " Why didn't you tell me about it ? " John asked. 
 
 " I thought it might worry you," she replied, " and 
 it couldn't do any good. He believed he was doing his 
 duty. John, you are sure about yourself, aren't you ? '* 
 
 " Come and have tea with me in my rooms, and I'll 
 tell you," he laughed.
 
 aj6 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " Just what I'd planned to do," she assented, with a 
 sigh of content. " It's too late to go home and get 
 back to the theater comfortably." 
 
 " The theater ! " John murmured, a few minutes later, 
 when they were seated in his comfortable little sitting 
 room and he had ordered tea. " Do you know that I 
 grudge those three or four hours of your day? " 
 
 " I believe I do, too," she admitted ; " and yet a little 
 while ago it was my only pleasure in life. Don't sit 
 over there, please 1 You are much too far away. 
 Closer still ! Let me feel your arms. You are strong 
 and brave, aren't you, John? You would not let any 
 one take me away from you? " 
 
 He was a little startled by the earnestness of her 
 words. She seemed pale and fragile, her eyes larger 
 and deeper than usual, and her mouth tremulous. She 
 was like a child with the shadow of some fear hanging 
 over her. He laughed and held her tightly to him. 
 
 *' There is nothing that could take you away you 
 know that quite well! There is nobody in the world 
 whom you need fear for a single moment. If you have 
 troubles, I am here to share them. If you have enemies, 
 you can leave me to dispose of them." 
 
 " I think," she murmured, " that I am in an emotional 
 frame of mind to-day. I am not often like this, you 
 know. I woke this morning feeling so happy ; and then, 
 all of a sudden, I couldn't somehow believe in it in 
 myself. I felt it slip away. You won't let it slip 
 away, John ? " 
 
 " Never a chance ! " he promised confidently. " Look 
 at me. Do I seem like a person to be easily got rid of? 
 What you need is a holiday, and you need it badly. We 
 haven't made any plans yet, have we? I wonder whether 
 we could break your contract at the theater ! "
 
 THE HILLMAN 277 
 
 " We must talk to Graillot," she said. " There is a 
 little Frenchwoman over here now. I once saw her act 
 in Paris, and I am sure she could play Tht'rcse wonder- 
 fully. But don't let's talk seriously any longer. Just 
 let us sit here and talk nonsense ! " 
 
 *' Have you told any of your friends yet, Louise 
 the prince, for instance? " 
 
 He had asked this question on his way across the room 
 to ring the bell. There was no reply, and when he 
 turned around, a moment or two later, he was almost 
 frightened. Louise was sitting quite still, but the color 
 seemed to have been drained from her cheeks. Her 
 eyes were filled with some expression which he did not 
 wholly understand. He only knew that they were call- 
 ing him to her side, and he promptly obeyed the sum- 
 mons. Her head fell upon his shoulder, her arms were 
 locked about his neck. 
 
 " John," she sobbed, " I do not know what is the mat- 
 ter with me. I am hysterical. Don't ask me any ques- 
 tions. Don't talk to me. Hold me like you are doing 
 now, and listen. I love you, John do you under- 
 stand? I love you ! " 
 
 Her lips sought his and clung to them. A queer 
 little wave of passion seemed to have seized her. Half 
 crying, half laughing, she pressed her face against his. 
 " I do not want to act to-night. I do not want to play, 
 even to the most wonderful audience in the world. I 
 do not want to shake hands with many hundreds of peo- 
 ple at that hateful reception. I think I want nothing 
 else in the world but you ! " 
 
 She lay, for a moment, passive in his arms. He 
 smoothed her hair and kissed her tenderly. Then he 
 led her back to her place upon the couch. Her emo- 
 tional mood, while it flattered him in a sense, did nothing
 
 278 THE HILLMAN 
 
 to quiet the little demons of unrest that pulled, every 
 now and then, at his heart-strings. 
 
 " What is this reception ? " he asked. 
 
 She made a little grimace. 
 
 " It is a formal welcome from the English stage to 
 the French company that has come over to play at the 
 new French theater," she told him. " Sir Edward 
 and I are to receive them. You will come, will you 
 not?" 
 
 " I haven't an invitation," he told her. 
 
 "Invitation? I invite you. I am the hostess of 
 the evening." 
 
 " Then I am not likely to refuse, am I? " he asked, 
 smiling. " Shall I come to the theater? " 
 
 " Come straight to the reception at the Whitehall 
 Rooms," she begged. " Sir Edward is calling for me, 
 and Graillot will go down with us. Later, if you care 
 to, you can drive me home." 
 
 " Don't you think," he suggested, " that it would be 
 rather a good opportunity to announce our engage- 
 ment?" 
 
 " Not to-night ! " she pleaded. " You know, I can- 
 not seem to believe it myself except when I am with 
 you and we are alone. It seems too wonderful after 
 all these years. Do you know, John, that I am nearly 
 thirty?" 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " How pathetic ! All the more reason, I should say, 
 why we should let people know about it as soon as 
 possible." 
 
 "There is no particular hurry," she said, a little 
 nervously. "Let me get used to it myself. I don't 
 think you will have to wait long. Everything I have 
 been used to doing and thinking seems to be crumbling
 
 THE HILLMAN 279 
 
 up around me. Last night I even hated my work, or 
 at least part of it." 
 
 His eyes lit up with genuine pleasure. 
 
 ** I can't tell you how glad I am to hear you say 
 that," he declared. " I don't hate your work I've 
 got over that. I don't think I am narrow about it. I 
 admire Graillot, and his play is wonderful. But I 
 think, and I always shall think, that the denouement in 
 that third act is damnable ! " 
 
 She nodded understandingly. 
 
 " I am beginning to realize how you must feel," she 
 confessed. " We won't talk about it any more now. 
 Drive me to the theater, will you? I want to be there 
 early to-night, just to get everything ready for chang- 
 ing afterward." 
 
 The telephone-bell rang as they were leaving the 
 room. John put the receiver to his ear and a moment 
 later held it away. 
 
 " It is Sophy," he announced. " Shall I tell them 
 to send her up ? " 
 
 " Sophy, indeed ! " Louise exclaimed. " I thought 
 she was in the country, on tour, and was not expected 
 back until to-morrow." 
 
 " I thought she went away for a week," John said, 
 " but there she is, waiting down-stairs." 
 
 Louise hesitated for a moment. Then she came over 
 to John with a tremulous little smile at the corners of 
 her lips. 
 
 " Dear," she said, " I am in a strange frame of mind 
 to-day. I don't want even to see Sophy. Tell them 
 to send her up here. She can wait for you while you 
 take me out the other way." 
 
 " May I tell her? " John asked, as he rang for the 
 lift. " She has been such a good little pal ! "
 
 280 THE HILLMAN 
 
 Once more Louise seemed to hesitate. A vague look 
 of trouble clouded her face. 
 
 Perhaps you had better, dear," she agreed spirit- 
 lessly. " Only tell her not to breathe it to another 
 soul. It is to be our secret for a little time not long 
 just a day or two longer." 
 
 The gates of the lift swung open, and John raised 
 her fingers to his lips. 
 
 " It is for you to say, dear," he promised. 
 
 When he came back to his room, Sophy was curled 
 up on the couch with a cigarette between her lips. She 
 looked at him severely. 
 
 " I am losing faith in you," she declared. " There 
 are signs of a hurried departure from this room. There 
 is a distinct perfume of roses about the place. You 
 have always told me that I am the only visitor of my 
 sex you allow here. I am fiercely jealous ! Tell me 
 what this tea-tray and the empty cups mean ? " 
 
 " It means Louise," he answered, smiling. " She has 
 just this moment gone away." 
 
 Sophy sighed with an air of mock relief. 
 
 " Louise I suppose I must tolerate," she said. 
 " Fancy her coming here to tea with you, though ! " 
 
 "I have been up to Cumberland for a day," he 
 told her, " and Louise came to meet me at the sta- 
 tion." 
 
 "How is your angel brother?" she asked. "Did 
 he ask after me? " 
 
 " He did mention you," John confessed. " I don't 
 remember any direct message, though. You want a 
 cocktail, of course, don't you? " 
 
 " Dying for it," she admitted. " I have had such a 
 lull week ! We've been playing in wretched little places, 
 and last night the show went bust. The manager pre-
 
 THE HILLMAN 281 
 
 sented us with our fares home this morning. We were 
 only down in Surrey, so here I am." 
 
 " Well, I'm glad to see you back again," John told 
 her, after he had ordered the cocktails. " Louise has 
 been quite lost without you, too." 
 
 " I didn't want to go away," she sighed, " but I 
 do get so tired of not working! Although my part 
 wasn't worth anything, I hated it being cut out. It 
 makes one feel so aimless. One has too much time to 
 think." 
 
 He laughed at her, pleasantly but derisively. 
 
 " Time to think ! " he repeated. " Why, I have never 
 teen you serious for five minutes in your life, except 
 when you've been adding up Louise's housekeeping- 
 books ! " 
 
 She threw her cigarette into the grate, swung round 
 toward him, and looked steadily into his face. 
 
 " Haven't you? " she said. " I can be. I often am. 
 It isn't my correct pose, though. People don't like me 
 serious. If they take me out or entertain me, they 
 think they are being cheated if I am not continually 
 gay. You see what it is to have a reputation for being 
 amusing ! Louise keeps me by her side to talk nonsense 
 to her, to keep her from being depressed. Men take 
 me out because I am bright, because I save them the 
 trouble of talking, and they don't feel quite so stupid 
 with me as with another woman. My young man at 
 Bath wants to marry me for the same reason. He 
 thinks it would be so pleasant to have me always at hand 
 to chatter nonsense. That is why you like me, too. 
 You have been pitched into a strange world. You are 
 not really in touch with it. You like to be with some 
 one who will talk nonsense and take you a little way 
 out of it. I am just a little fool, you see, a harmless
 
 282 THE HILLMAN 
 
 little creature in cap and bells whom every one amuses 
 himself with." 
 
 John stared at her for a moment, only half under- 
 standing. 
 
 " Why, little girl," he exclaimed, " I believe you're 
 in earnest 1 " 
 
 " I am in deadly earnest," she assured him, her voice 
 breaking a little. " Don't take any notice of me. I 
 have had a wretched week, and it's a rotten world, 
 anyway." 
 
 There was a knock at the door, and the waiter entered 
 with the cocktails. 
 
 " Come," John said, as he took one from the tray, 
 " I will tell you some news that will give you something 
 to think about. I hope that you will be glad I feel 
 sure that you will. I want you to be the first to drink 
 our healths Louise's and mine ! " 
 
 The glass slipped through her fingers and fell upon 
 the carpet. She never uttered even an exclamation. 
 John was upon his knees, picking up the broken glass. 
 
 " My fault," he insisted. " I am so sorry, Sophy. 
 I am afraid some of the stuff has gone on your frock. 
 Looks as if you'll have to take me out shopping. I'll 
 ring for another cocktail." 
 
 He rose to his feet and stepped toward the bell. 
 Then it suddenly occurred to him that as yet she had 
 not spoken. He turned quickly around. 
 
 " Sophy," he exclaimed, " what is the matter ? 
 Aren't you going to congratulate me? " 
 
 She was sitting bolt upright upon the couch, her 
 fingers buried in the cushions, her eyes closed. He 
 moved quickly across toward her. 
 
 "J. say, Sophy, what's wrong?" he asked hastily. 
 "Aren't you well?"
 
 THE HILLMAN 283 
 
 She waved him away. 
 
 " Don't touch me," she begged. " I went without my 
 lunch nearly missed the train, as it was. I was feel- 
 ing a little queer when I came, and dropping that glass 
 gave me a shock. Let me drink yours, may I ? " 
 
 He handed it to her, and she drained its contents. 
 Then she smiled up at him weakly. 
 
 " What a shame 1 " she said. " Just as you were 
 telling me your wonderful news ! I can scarcely believe 
 it you and Louise ! " 
 
 John sat down beside her. 
 
 " Louise does not want it talked about for a day or 
 two," he observed. " We have not made any plans 
 
 yet." 
 
 " Is Louise going to remain upon the stage? " 
 
 " Probably, if she wishes it," he replied ; ** but I 
 want to travel first for a year or so, before we settle 
 definitely upon anything. I did not think that you 
 would be so much surprised, Sophy." 
 
 " Perhaps I am not really," she admitted. " One 
 thinks of a thing as being possible, for a long time, and 
 when it actually comes well, it takes you off your 
 feet just the same. You know," she added slowly, 
 " there are no two people in this world so far apart in 
 their ways as you and Louise." 
 
 " That is true from one point of view," he confessed. 
 " From another, I think that there are no two people 
 so close together. Of course, it seems wonderful to me, 
 and I suppose it does to you, Sophy, that she should 
 care for a man of my type. She is so brilliant and 
 so talented, such a woman of this latter-day world, the 
 world of which I am about as ignorant as a man can be. 
 Perhaps, after all, that is the real explanation of it. 
 Each of us represents things new to the other."
 
 284 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " Did you say that no one has been told yet no 
 one at all?" 
 
 " No one except Stephen," John assented. " That 
 is why I went up to Cumberland, to tell him." 
 
 " You have not told the prince ? " Sophy asked, 
 dropping her voice a little. " Louise has not told 
 him?" 
 
 "Not that I know of. Why do you ask?" John 
 inquired, looking into Sophy's face. 
 
 " I don't know," she answered. " It just occurred to 
 me. He and Louise have known each other for such 
 a long time, and I wondered what he might have to say 
 about it." 
 
 John laid his hands upon the poisonous thoughts that 
 had stolen once more into his blood, and told himself 
 that he had strangled them. He swept them away and 
 glanced at his watch. 
 
 " Let's have some dinner before I change, down in 
 the grill-room in a quarter of an hour's time, say. I 
 don't want to be at the theater before the second act." 
 
 Sophy hesitated. There was a hard feeling in her 
 throat, a burning at the back of her eyes. She was 
 passionately anxious to be alone, yet she could not bring 
 herself to refuse. She could not deny herself, or tear 
 herself at once away from the close companionship which 
 seemed, somehow or other, to have crept up between 
 herself and John, and to have become the one thing that 
 counted in life. 
 
 " I'd love to," she said, ** but remember I've been 
 traveling. Look at me! I must either go home, or 
 you must let me go into your room " 
 
 " Make yourself at home," John invited. " I have 
 three letters to write, and some telephone messages to 
 answer."
 
 THE HILLMAN 285 
 
 Sophy lit another cigarette and strolled jauntily 
 through his suite of rooms. When she was quite sure 
 that she was alone, however, she closed the door behind 
 her, dropped her cigarette, and staggered to the window. 
 She stood there, gazing down into an alleyway six 
 stories below, where the people passing back and forth 
 looked like dwarf creatures. 
 
 One little movement forward! No one could have 
 been meant to bear pain like this. She set her teeth. 
 
 " It would be so soon over ! " 
 
 Then she suddenly found that she could see nothing ; 
 the people below were blurred images. A rush of relief 
 had come to her. She sank into the nearest chair and 
 sobbed.
 
 XXXIII 
 
 The reception in honor of the little company of 
 French tragedians, at which almost the whole of the 
 English stage and a sprinkling of society people were 
 present, was a complete success. Louise made a charm- 
 ing hostess, and Sir Edward more than ever justified 
 his reputation for saying the right thing to the right 
 person at the right moment. The rooms were crowded 
 with throngs of distinguished people, who all seemed to 
 have plenty to say to one another. 
 
 The only person, perhaps, who found himself curi- 
 ously ill at ease was John. He heard nothing but 
 French on all sides of him a language which he read 
 with some facility, but which he spoke like a schoolboy. 
 He had been wandering about for more than an hour 
 before Louise discovered him. She at once left her 
 place and crossed the room to where he was standing by 
 the wall. 
 
 " Cheer up ! " she begged, with a delightful smile. 
 " I am afraid that you are being bored to death. Will 
 you not come and be presented to our guests ? " 
 
 " For goodness' sake, no ! " John implored. " I have 
 never seen one of them act, and my French is appalling. 
 I am all right, dear. It's quite enough pleasure to see 
 you looking so beautiful, and to think that I am going 
 to be allowed to drive you home afterward." 
 
 Louise looked into a neighboring mirror, and gazed 
 critically at her own reflected image. The lines of her
 
 THE HILLMAN 287 
 
 figure, fine and subtle, seemed traced by the finger of 
 some great sculptor underneath her faultlessly made 
 white-satin gown. She studied her white neck and 
 shoulders and her perfectly shaped head, seeking every- 
 where for some detail with which an impartial critic 
 might find fault. 
 
 She had a curious feeling that at that precise mo- 
 ment she had reached the zenith of her power and her 
 charm. Her audience at the theater had been wonder- 
 fully sympathetic, had responded with rare appreciation 
 to every turn of her voice, to every movement and 
 gesture. The compliments, too, which she had been 
 receiving from the crowds who had bent over her fingers 
 that night had been no idle words. Many distinguished 
 men had looked at her with a light in their eyes which 
 women understand so well a light questioning yet 
 respectful, which provokes yet begs for something in the 
 way of response. 
 
 She was conscious, acutely conscious, of the atmos- 
 phere she had created around her. She was glorying 
 in the subtle outward signs of it. She was in love with 
 herself; in love, too, with this delightful new feeling 
 of loving. It would have given her more joy than 
 anything else in the world, in that moment of her tri- 
 umph, to have passed her arm through John's, to have 
 led him up to them all, and to have said: 
 
 " After all, you see, I am a very simple sort of woman. 
 I have done just the sort of simple thing that other 
 women do, and I am glad of it very glad and very 
 happy ! " 
 
 Her lips moved to the music of her thoughts. John 
 leaned toward her. 
 
 " Did you say anything? " he asked. 
 
 " You dear stupid, of course I did not ! Or if I did,
 
 288 THE HILLMAN 
 
 it was just one of those little whispers to oneself which 
 mean nothing, yet which count for so much. Can I 
 not do anything to make you enjoy yourself more? I 
 shall have to go back to my guests now. We are ex- 
 pecting a royal personage, and those two dears who 
 keep so close to my side do not speak a word of 
 English." 
 
 " Please go back, dear," John begged promptly. " It 
 was nice of you to come at all. And here's Sophy at 
 last, thank goodness I Now I am all right." 
 
 She laid her fingers upon his arm. 
 
 " You must take me back to my place," she said. 
 ** Then you can go and talk nonsense to Sophy. I 
 won't even ask you what she said when you told her the 
 news. I suppose you did tell her? " 
 
 " Of course ! " 
 
 She glanced at him swiftly. His reply had sounded a 
 little lame; but they were back in the crowd now, and 
 she dismissed him with a little nod. He made his way 
 quickly to the spot where he had seen Sophy. To his 
 disappointment, she had disappeared. Graillot, how- 
 ever, came up and seized him by the arm. 
 
 "Still playing the moth, my young friend?" he 
 exclaimed. " Aren't the wings sufficiently burned 
 yet?" 
 
 " I am afraid it's become a permanent role," John 
 replied, as the two men shook hands. " Where have you 
 been all these weeks, and why haven't you been to see , 
 me?" 
 
 " Paris, my dear young friend Paris and life ! 
 Now I am back again I am not sure that I know why. 
 I came over with these French people, to see them start 
 their theater. Forgive me, I have not paid my respects 
 to our hostess. We shall meet again presently."
 
 THE HILLMAN 289 
 
 He strolled off, and a few minutes later John found 
 Sophy. 
 
 " How late you are ! " he grumbled. 
 
 " I couldn't help it," she answered. " This is the 
 only evening dress I possess at present, and I had ta 
 mend it before it was decent to come out in. Why are 
 you wandering about alone? Hasn't Louise been kind 
 to you? " 
 
 " She has been charming," John declared promptly, 
 " but she is surrounded with all sorts of people I don't 
 know. I can't help her. For one thing, my French 
 is absurd. Then they are all talking about things which 
 I don't understand in the least." 
 
 Sophy remained silent for a moment. Then she took 
 John's arm and led him to the buffet. 
 
 "Give me an ice and a cigarette, will you, please? 
 You are a dear, impractical person, but you are as 
 much out of this world as a human being well could be ! " 
 
 John waited upon her without any further remark. 
 The Prince of Seyre, passing through, bowed to them. 
 John looked after his retreating figure. An irresistible 
 impulse seized him. 
 
 " Sophy," he asked, sitting down by her side, " tell 
 me, why have the prince and Louise always been such 
 great friends? " 
 
 Sophy looked steadfastly at her ice. 
 
 " I suppose because the prince is a very clever and 
 cultivated person," she said. " He has been of great 
 assistance to Louise several times. It was he who 
 financed Miles Faraday when he put on this play of 
 Graillot's. Graillot hasn't a penny, you know, and 
 poor Miles was almost broke after three failures." 
 
 " That was just an investment," John remarked 
 irritably. " He will get his money back again."
 
 ago THE HILLMAN 
 
 " Of course," Sophy agreed. " I think the prince 
 generally manages to get value for what he does in 
 life." 
 
 " You don't think Louise ever thought of caring for 
 him, do you ? " John persisted. 
 
 Sophy paused until she had lit a cigarette. The 
 expression in her face, when she looked up at John, 
 irritated him vaguely. It was as if she were talking to 
 a child. 
 
 " I think," she said, " you had better ask Louise that 
 question yourself, don't you? " 
 
 He asked it an hour or so later, when at last the 
 party of guests had taken their leave, and, somewhat to 
 the well-bred surprise of the one or two friends who 
 lingered, Louise had beckoned to John to take her out 
 to her car. Her hand had sought his at once, her head 
 rested a little wearily but very contentedly upon his 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Louise dear," he began, '* I asked Sophy a question 
 to-night which I ought to have asked you. Quite prop- 
 erly, she told me so." 
 
 " Nice little soul, Sophy ! " Louise murmured. 
 "What was it, John?" 
 
 " Once or twice I have wondered," he went on, 
 ** whether you have ever cared in any sort of way, or 
 come near to caring, for the Prince of Scyre? " 
 
 For a moment she made no movement. Then she 
 turned her head and looked at him. The sleepy content 
 had gone from her eyes. 
 
 "Why do you ask?" 
 
 " Isn't it quite a natural question from a jealous man 
 who believes that every one who sees you must be in 
 love with you? You have seen a great deal of the
 
 THE HILLMAN 291 
 
 prince, haven't you, in the last few years? He under- 
 stands your art. There are many things that you and 
 he have in common." 
 
 Louise was looking out of the window at the thin 
 stream of people still passing along Piccadilly. She 
 seemed suddenly to have become only the shadow of her 
 former brilliant self. 
 
 " I think that once perhaps twice," she confessed, 
 " I came very near to caring for him." 
 
 "And now?" 
 
 " And now," she repeated, suddenly gripping John's 
 hands, " I tell you that I am very much nearer hating 
 him. So much for the prince ! In ten minutes we shall 
 be at home, and you are such a dear stupid about com- 
 ing in. You must try to say all the nice things in the 
 world to me quickly in ten minutes ! " 
 
 " How shall I begin? " he whispered. 
 
 She leaned once more toward him. 
 
 " You don't need any hints," she murmured. 
 " You're really quite good at it ! "
 
 XXXIV 
 
 The ten minutes passed very much too quickly. She 
 was gone, and John, thrilled though he was through all 
 his senses by the almost passionate fervor of her leave- 
 taking, found himself once more confronted by that 
 little black demon. He sat up in the car, which bore 
 him quickly back toward his rooms; and although the 
 sense of her presence, the delicate perfume, the empty 
 place by his side, even a fallen flower from, her gown, 
 "were still there, the unrest seemed sharper. 
 
 There was something about all of them, all these 
 people whom he knew to be his friends, which seemed to 
 him to savor of a conspiracy. One by one they flitted 
 through his brain Graillot's covert warning; Sophy's 
 plaintive, almost fearful doubts ; the prince's subtle yet 
 cynical silence ; and behind it all, Stephen's brutal and 
 outspoken words. There was nothing that could be 
 put into definite shape just the ghost of torturing, 
 impossible thoughts. John told himself that it must 
 be ended. Even though the words should blister his 
 tongue with shame, they must be spoken. 
 
 A moment later he hated himself for the thought. 
 He set his teeth, filled his thought with the glory of her 
 presence, and crushed those demoniacal suggestions to 
 the back of his brain. He was in no humor to go home, 
 however. Changing the order he had first given to the 
 chauffeur, he was driven instead to a small Bohemian 
 club which he had joined at Graillot's instigation. He
 
 THE HILLMAN 293 
 
 had a vague hope that he might find the great dramatist 
 there. There were no signs of him, however, in the 
 smoking room, or any one else whom John knew. 
 
 He threw himself into an easy chair and ordered a 
 whisky-and-soda. Two men close at hand were writing 
 at desks; others were lounging about, discussing the 
 evening's reception. One man, sitting upon the table, 
 a recognized authority, was treating the company to a 
 fluent dissertation upon modern actresses, winding up 
 by contrasting Louise Maurel's style with that of her 
 chief French rival. John found himself listening with 
 pleased interest. The man's opinion was certainly not 
 unfavorable to Louise. 
 
 " It is only in the finer shades of emotionalism," the 
 critic declared, " that these French actresses get at us a 
 little more completely even than Louise Maurel. Do 
 you know the reason ? I'll tell you. It is because they 
 live the life. They have a dozen new emotions in a sea- 
 son. They make a cult of feeling. They use their 
 brains to dissect their passions. They cut their own 
 life into small pieces and give us the result without con- 
 cealment. That is where they scor^, if anywhere. 
 This Mme. Latrobe, who opens over here to-morrow 
 night, is living at the present moment with Jean Tour- 
 bet. She had an affair with that Italian poet in the 
 summer, so they tell me. She was certainly in Madrid in 
 October with Bretoldi, the sculptor. These men are all 
 great artists. Think what she must have learned from 
 associating with them ! Now Louise Maurel, so far as 
 we know, has never had but one lover, the Prince of 
 Seyre, and has been faithful to him all the time." 
 
 It was out at last .' John had heard it spoken in plain 
 words. The black demon upon which his hand had lain 
 so heavily, was alive now, without a doubt, jeering at
 
 294 THE HILLMAN 
 
 him, mocking at him alive and self-assertive in the 
 sober words of the elderly, well-bred man who lounged 
 upon the table. 
 
 For a moment or two John was stunned. A wild 
 impulse assailed him to leap up and confront them all, 
 to choke the lie back down the throat of the man who 
 had uttered it. Every nerve in his body was tingling 
 with the desire for action. The stupor of his senses 
 alone kept him motionless, and a strange, incompre- 
 hensible clarity of thought. He realized exactly how 
 things were. This man had not spoken idly, or as a 
 scandalmonger. He had spoken what he had accepted 
 as a fact, what other people believed. 
 
 John rose to his feet and made his way toward the 
 door. His face showed little sign of disturbance. He 
 even nodded to some men whom he knew slightly. As 
 he passed down the stairs, he met Graillot. Then once 
 more the self-control became in danger. He seized the 
 Frenchman savagely by the arm. 
 
 " Come this way," he said, leading him toward the 
 card-room. " Come in here ! I want to speak to 
 you." 
 
 He locked the door a most unheard-of and irregu- 
 lar proceeding. Graillot felt the coming of the storm. 
 
 "Well!" he exclaimed grimly. "Trouble already, 
 eh? I see it in your face, young man. Out with it! " 
 
 John who had won a hard match at rackets a few 
 days before against a more experienced opponent simply 
 because of his perfect condition was breathing hard. 
 There was a dull patch of color in his cheek, drops of 
 sweat stood upon his forehead. He controlled his voice 
 with difficulty. Its tone was sharp and unfamiliar. 
 
 " I was sitting in the smoking room there, a few 
 n^ments ago," he began, jerking his head toward the
 
 THE HILLMAN 295 
 
 door. " There were some men talking decent fel- 
 lows, not dirty scandalmongers. They spoke of Louise 
 Maurel." 
 
 Graillot nodded gravely. He knew very well what 
 was coming. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " They spoke, also, of the Prince of Seyre." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 John felt his throat suddenly dry. The words he 
 would have spoken choked him. He banged his fist 
 upon the table by the side of which they were standing. 
 
 " Look here, Graillot," he cried, almost piteously, 
 '* you know it is not true, not likely to be true ! Can't 
 you say so? " 
 
 " Stop, my young friend ! " the Frenchman inter- 
 rupted. " I know nothing. It is a habit of mine to 
 know nothing when people make suggestions of that 
 sort. I make no inquiries. I accept life and people as 
 I find them." 
 
 " But you don't believe that such a thing could be 
 possible? " 
 
 "Why not? " Graillot asked steadily. 
 
 John could do no more than mumble a repetition of 
 his words. The world was falling away from him. He 
 was dimly conscious that one of the engravings upon 
 the wall opposite was badly hung. For the rest, Grail- 
 lot's face, stern, yet pitying, seemed to loom like the 
 features of a giant, eclipsing everything else. 
 
 " I will not discuss this matter with you, my friend. 
 I will only ask you to remember the views of the world 
 in which we live. Louise Maurel is an artist, a great 
 artist. If there has been such an affair as you suggest, 
 between her and any man, if it were something which 
 appealed to her affections, it is my opinion that she
 
 296 THE HILLMAN 
 
 would not hesitate. You seem to think it an outrageous 
 thing that the prince should have been her lover. To 
 be perfectly frank, I do not. I should be very much 
 more surprised at her marriage." 
 
 John made his escape somehow. He remembered 
 opening the door, but he had no recollection of reaching 
 the street. A few minutes later, however, he found 
 himself striding down Piccadilly toward Hyde Park 
 Corner. 
 
 The night was warm, and there were still plenty of 
 people about. A woman touched his arm; her hack- 
 neyed greeting filled him with inexpressible horror. He 
 stared at her, barely conscious of what he was doing, 
 filled with an indescribable sickness of heart. 
 
 " You look about done up," she said in friendly fash- 
 ion. " Come round to my flat and have a drink. You 
 needn't stay if you don't want to." 
 
 He muttered something and passed on. A moment 
 or two later, however, he retraced his steps. Out of 
 the horror of his thought had come an irresistible im- 
 pulse. He slipped some gold into her hand. 
 
 " Please take this and go home," he enjoined. " Go 
 home at once ! Get out of the streets and hide your- 
 self." 
 
 She stared at him and at the money. 
 
 "Why, I've only just come out," she protested. 
 " All the same, I'm dead tired. I'll go. Walk with 
 me, won't you? You look as if you wanted looking 
 after." 
 
 " I'm all right," he answered. " You go home." 
 
 She slipped the money carefully into her purse, and 
 hailed a taxi. 
 
 " You shall have your own way," she declared. 
 " Can't I drop you anywhere? "
 
 THE HILLMAN 297 
 
 He raised his hat, and, once more swinging around, 
 passed on his way. Presently he found himself in the 
 street where Louise lived. He looked at his watch 
 it was twenty minutes to three o'clock. 
 
 The house was in solemn darkness. He stood and 
 looked up at it. There was no sign of a light, not even 
 from the top windows. Its silence seemed to him more 
 than the silence of sleep. He found himself wonder- 
 ing whether it was really inhabited, whether there were 
 really human souls in this quiet corner, waiting peace- 
 fully for the dawn, heedless of the torment which was 
 tearing his soul to pieces. Perhaps, behind that drawn 
 blind, Louise herself was awake. Perhaps she was 
 thinking, looking back into the past, wondering about 
 the future. He took a step toward the gate. 
 
 " Are you going in there, sir? " 
 
 He turned quickly around. A policeman had flashed 
 a lantern upon him. John suddenly became intensely 
 matter-of-fact. 
 
 " No," he replied. " It is too late, I am afraid. I 
 see that they have all gone to bed. Any chance of a 
 taxi about here?" 
 
 " Most likely you'll find one at the corner," the 
 policeman pointed out. " There's a rank there, and 
 one or two of them generally stay late. Very much 
 obliged, sir." 
 
 John had slipped a coin into the man's hand. Then 
 he walked deliberately away. He found a taxicab and 
 was driven toward the Milan. He let down both the 
 windows and leaned out. He was conscious of a wild 
 desire to keep away from his rooms to spend the 
 night anywhere, anyhow, sooner than go back to the 
 little apartment where Louise had sat with him only a 
 few hours ago, and had given herself into his arms.
 
 298 THE HILLMAN 
 
 Every pulse in his body was tingling. He was fiercely 
 awake, eager for motion, action, excitement of any sort. 
 Suddenly he remembered the night-club to which 
 he had been introduced by Sophy on the first night of 
 his arrival in London. The address, too, was there 
 quite clearly in his disordered brain. He leaned out 
 of the cab and repeated it to the driver.
 
 XXXV 
 
 The little place was unexpectedly crowded when John 
 entered, after having handed his hat and coat to a 
 vestiaire. A large supper-party was going on at the 
 further end, and the dancing space was smaller than 
 usual. The maitre d'hotel was escorting John to a 
 small table in a distant corner, which had just been 
 vacated, when the latter heard his name suddenly called 
 by a familiar voice. Sophy, who had been dancing, 
 abandoned her partner precipitately and came hurry- 
 ing up to John with outstretched hands. 
 
 " John ! " she exclaimed. " You, of all people in the 
 world! What do you mean by coming here alone at 
 this time of night? Fancy not telling me! Is any- 
 thing the matter ? " 
 
 " Nothing," he replied. " I really don't exactly 
 know why I am here. I simply didn't want to go to 
 bed." 
 
 She looked at him closely. It was clear that she was 
 a little puzzled at his appearance. 
 
 " If it were not you, John," she declared, " I should 
 say that you had been having more to drink than was 
 good for you ! " 
 
 " Then you would be very wrong," John assured her, 
 "because I haven't had anything at all. I have come 
 here to get something. Can't you come and sit with 
 me?" 
 
 " Of course ! " she assented eagerly. " The prince
 
 300 THE HILLMAN 
 
 is giving a supper-party at the other end of the room 
 there. We all came on together from the reception. 
 Let us get away to your corner quickly, or they will 
 see you and make you go and join them. I would much 
 rather have you to myself. The people here seem so 
 stupid to-night ! " 
 
 John stood still, and made no movement toward the 
 table which the mdltre d'hotel was smilingly preparing 
 for them. 
 
 " Where is the prince? " he asked. 
 
 Sophy, struck by something in his voice, swung 
 around and looked at him. Then she thrust both her 
 arms through his, clasped her two hands together, and 
 led him firmly away. A glimmering of the truth was 
 beginning to dawn upon her. 
 
 " Tell me where you have been since you left the 
 reception," she insisted, when at last they were seated 
 together. 
 
 " Wait till I have ordered some wine," he said. 
 
 A waiter served them with champagne. When John's 
 glass was filled, he drained its contents. Sophy watched 
 him with surprise. She came a little closer to him. 
 
 " John," she whispered, " you must tell me do 
 you hear? You must tell me everything! Did you 
 take Louise home? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "What happened, then? You didn't quarrel with 
 her?" 
 
 " Nothing at all happened," he assured her. " We 
 parted the best of friends. It wasn't that." 
 
 " Then what ? Remember that I am your friend, 
 John dear. Tell me everything." 
 
 He poured himself more wine and drank it. 
 
 " I will tell you," he assented. " I went to a little
 
 THE HILLMAN 301 
 
 club I belong to on the Adelphi Terrace. I sat down in: 
 the smoking room. There was no one there I knew. 
 Some men were talking. They had been to the recep- 
 tion to-night. They were comparing French actresses 
 and English. They spoke first of the French woman, 
 Latrobe, and her lovers; then of Louise. They spoke 
 quite calmly, like men discussing history. They com- 
 pared the two actresses, they compared their lives. 
 Latrobe, they said, had lovers by the score Louise 
 only one." 
 
 Sophy's hand stole into his. She was watching the 
 twisting of his features. She understood so well the 
 excitement underneath. 
 
 " I think I can guess," she whispered. " Don't hurt 
 yourself telling me. Something was said about the 
 prince ! " 
 
 His eyes blazed down upon her. 
 
 "You, too?" he muttered. "Does the whole world 
 know of it and speak as if it did not matter? Sophy, 
 is it true? Speak out ! Don't be afraid of hurting me. 
 You call yourself my friend. I've been down, looking 
 at the outside of her house. I dared not go in. 
 There's a fire burning in my soul! Tell me if it is 
 true!" 
 
 " You must not ask me that question, John," she 
 begged. " How should I know ? Besides, these things 
 are so different in our world, the world you haven't 
 found out much about yet. Supposing it were true, 
 John," she went on, " remember that it was before you 
 knew her. Supposing it should be true, remember this 
 your idea of life is too absurd. Is one creed made to 
 fit human beings who may differ in a million different 
 ways? A woman may be as good as any ever born into 
 the world, and yet take just a little love into her life, if
 
 302 THE HILLMAN 
 
 she be true and faithful in doing it. I don't believe 
 there is a dearer or sweeter woman breathing than 
 Louise, but one must have love. Don't I know it? A 
 man may be strong enough to live without it, but a 
 woman never ! " 
 
 The skirts of the women brushed their table as they 
 danced, the rhythm of the music rose and fell above the 
 murmur of laughter and conversation. John looked 
 around the room, and a sort of despair crept in upon 
 him. It was no good! He had come to London to 
 understand; he understood nothing. He was made of 
 the wrong fiber. If only he could change himself ! If 
 it were not too late! If he could make himself like 
 other men ! 
 
 He turned and glanced at his companion. Sophy 
 was looking very sweet and very wistful. The warm 
 touch of her fingers was grateful. Her sympathy was 
 like some welcome flower in a wilderness. His heart 
 ached with a new desire. If only he could make himself 
 different ! If only he could stretch out his hand for the 
 flowers which made the lives of other men so sweet ! 
 
 " I must not ask you any more questions, Sophy," he 
 said. " You are her friend, and you have spoken very 
 sweetly. To-morrow I will go and see her." 
 
 " And to-night, forget it all," she pleaded. " Wipe 
 it out of your memory. Louise and your future belong 
 to to-morrow. To-night she is not here, and I am. 
 Even if you are furiously in love with her, there isn't 
 any harm in your being just a little nice to me. Give 
 me some champagne ; and I want some caviar sand- 
 wiches ! " 
 
 " I wonder why you are so good to me, Sophy ! " he 
 exclaimed, as he gave the order to a waiter. " You 
 ought either to marry your young man down at Bath,
 
 THE HILLMAN 303 
 
 or to have a sweetheart of your own, a companion, some 
 one quite different." 
 
 "How different?" 
 
 " Some one who cared for you as you deserve to be 
 cared for, and whom you cared for, too." 
 
 " I cannot take these things as lightly as I used to," 
 she answered a little sadly. " Something has come over 
 me lately I don't know what it is but I seem to 
 have lost my taste for flirtations. John, don't look up, 
 don't turn round! I have been afraid of the prince all 
 the evening. When you came in, I fancied that you 
 had been drinking. When the prince asked me some- 
 thing about you, an hour or so ago, I knew that he had. 
 I saw him like it once before, about a year ago. Don't 
 take any notice of him ! Don't talk to him, if you can 
 help it!" 
 
 John was scarcely conscious of her words. A new 
 glow of excitement seemed to be taking entire posses- 
 sion of him, to be thrilling his blood, to be shining out 
 of his eyes. He rose slowly to his feeti It was as if 
 he were being drawn forward out of himself to meet some 
 coming challenge. 
 
 Toward their table the prince was slowly making his 
 way, skilfully avoiding the dancers, yet looking neither 
 to the right nor to the left. His eyes were fastened 
 upon John. If he had been drinking, as Sophy sug- 
 gested, there were few signs of it. His walk was steady ; 
 his bearing, as usual, deliberate and distinguished. 
 
 He came to a standstill beside them. Sophy's fingers 
 clutched at the tablecloth. The prince looked from 
 one to the other. 
 
 " You have robbed me of a guest, Mr. Strangewey," 
 he remarked ; " but I bear you no ill-will. It is very 
 seldom that one sees you in these haunts of dissipation."
 
 30 4 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " It is a gala night with me," John replied, his tone 
 raised no more than usual, but shaking with some new 
 quality. " Drink a glass of wine with me, prince," he 
 invited, taking the bottle from the ice-pail and filling a 
 tumbler upon the table. " Wish me luck, won't you ? 
 I am engaged to be married ! " 
 
 " I wish you happiness with all my heart," the prince 
 answered, holding his glass up. " May I not know the 
 name of the lady? " 
 
 " No doubt you are prepared for the news," John 
 told him. " Miss Maurel has promised to become my 
 wife." 
 
 The prince's hand was as steady as a rock. He 
 raised his glass to his lips. 
 
 " I drink to you both with the greatest pleasure," he 
 said, looking John full in the face. " It is a most re- 
 markable coincidence. To-night is the anniversary of 
 the night when Louise Maurel pledged herself to me in 
 somewhat different fashion ! " 
 
 John's frame seemed for a moment to dilate, and fire 
 flashed from his eyes. 
 
 " Will you be good enough to explain those words ? " 
 he demanded. 
 
 The prince bowed. He glanced toward Sophy. 
 
 " Since you insist," he replied. " To-night, then, 
 let me tell you, is the anniversary of the night when 
 Louise Maurel consented to become my mistress ! " 
 
 What followed came like a thunder-clap. The prince 
 reeled back, his hand to his mouth, blood dropping upon 
 the tablecloth from his lips, where John had struck 
 him. He made a sudden spring at his assailant. 
 Sophy, shrieking, leaped to her feet. Every one else 
 in the place seemed paralyzed with wonder. 
 
 John seized the prince by the throat, and held him for
 
 THE HILLMAN 305 
 
 a moment at arm's length. Then he lifted him off his 
 feet as one might lift a child from the floor. Holding 
 his helpless victim in a merciless grip, he carried him 
 across the room and deliberately flung him over the table 
 toward his empty chair. 
 
 There was a crash of glass and crockery which rang 
 through the momentarily hushed room. The dancers 
 had stopped in their places, the bow of the violinist lay 
 idle upon the strings of his instrument. The waiters 
 were all standing about like graven images. Then, as 
 the prince fell, there was a shout, and all was pande- 
 monium. They rushed to where he was lying motion- 
 less, a ghastly sight, across the wreck of his flower- 
 strewn supper-table. 
 
 Sophy held John by the arm, clutching it hysterically, 
 striving to drag him away. But to John the room was 
 empty. He stood there, a giant, motionless figure, his 
 muscles still taut, his face tense, his eyes aflame, glaring 
 down at the prostrate figure of the man on whom he had 
 wreaked the accumulated fury of those last days and 
 weeks of madness.
 
 XXXVI 
 
 Toward nine o'clock on the following morning John 
 rose from a fitful sleep and looked around him. Even 
 before he could recall the events of the preceding night 
 he felt that there was a weight pressing upon his brain, 
 a miserable sense of emptiness in life, a dull feeling of 
 bewilderment. Although he had no clear recollection 
 of getting there, he realized that he was in his own 
 sitting room, and that he had been asleep upon the 
 couch. He saw, too, that it was morning, for a ray 
 of sunlight lay across the carpet. 
 
 As he struggled to his feet, he saw with a little shock 
 that he was not alone. Sophy Gerard was curled up in 
 his easy chair, still in evening clothes, her cloak drawn 
 closely around her, as if she were cold. Her head had 
 fallen back. She, too, was asleep. At the sound of 
 his movement, however, she opened her eyes and looked 
 at him for a moment with a puzzled stare. Then she 
 jumped to her feet. 
 
 " Why, we have both been asleep ! " she murmured, a 
 little weakly. 
 
 At the sound of her voice it all came back to him, a 
 tangled, hideous nightmare. He sat down again upon 
 the couch and held his head between his hands. 
 
 " How did I come here ? " he asked. " I can't re- 
 member ! " 
 
 She hesitated. He answered the unspoken question 
 in her eyes.
 
 THE HILLMAN 307 
 
 " I remember everything that happened at the club," 
 he went on slowly. " Is the prince dead? " 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " Of course not ! He was hurt, though, and there 
 was a terrible scene of confusion in the room. The 
 people crowded around him, and I managed, somehow, 
 to drag you away. The manager helped us. To tell 
 the truth, he was only too anxious for you to get away 
 before the police arrived. He was so afraid of anything 
 getting into the papers. I drove you back here, and, 
 as you still seemed stunned, I brought you up-stairs. 
 I didn't mean to stay, but I couldn't get you to say a 
 single coherent word. I was afraid to leave you 
 alone 1 " 
 
 " I suppose I was drunk," he said, in a dull tone. " I 
 remember filling my glass over and over again. There 
 is one thing, though," he added, his voice gaining a sud- 
 den strength ; " I was not drunk when I struck the 
 prince 1 I remember those few seconds very distinctly. 
 I saw everything, knew everything, felt everything. If 
 no one had interfered, I think I should have killed him ! " 
 
 " You were not drunk at all," she declared, with a 
 little shiver, " but you were in a state of terrible excite- 
 ment. It was a long time before I could get you to lie 
 down, and then you wouldn't close your eyes until I 
 came and sat by your side. I watched you go to sleep. 
 I hope you are not angry with me ! I didn't like to go 
 and leave you." 
 
 " How could I be angry ? " he protested. " You are 
 far kinder to me than I deserve. I expect I should have 
 been in a police cell but for you ! " 
 
 " And now," she begged, coming over to him and 
 speaking in a more matter-of-fact tone, " do let us be 
 practical. I must run away, and you must go and
 
 308 THE HILLMAN 
 
 have a bath and change your clothes. Don't be 
 afraid of your reputation. I can get out by the other 
 entrance." 
 
 He made no movement. She laid her hand on his 
 arm. In the sunlight, with a little patch of rouge still 
 left on her cheek, with her disordered hair and tired 
 eyes, she looked almost ghastly. 
 
 " Remember," she whispered, " you have to go to see 
 Xouise ! " 
 
 He covered his face with his hands. 
 
 "What's the use of it?" he groaned. "It's only 
 another turn of the screw ! " 
 
 " Don't be foolish, John," she admonished briskly. 
 " You don't actually know anything yet nothing at 
 all; at least, you are not sure of anything. And be- 
 sides, you strange, impossible person," she went on, 
 patting his hand, " don't you see that you must judge 
 her, not by the standards of your world, in which she 
 lias never lived, but by the standards of her world, in 
 which she was born and bred? That is only fair, isn't 
 it? " 
 
 He made no answer. She watched him anxiously, 
 but there was no sign in his face. 
 
 " Pull yourself together, John," she continued. 
 '*' Ring for some tea, get your bath, and then have it 
 out with Louise. Remember, life is a very big thing. 
 You are dealing this morning with all it may mean to 
 you." 
 
 He rose listlessly to his feet. There was a strange, 
 dull look in his face. 
 
 " You are a dear girl, Sophy ! " he said. " Don't 
 go just yet. I have never felt like it before in my life, 
 but just now I don't want to be left alone. Send a boy 
 for some clothes, and I will order some tea."
 
 THE HILLMAN 309 
 
 She hesitated. 
 
 " My own reputation," she murmured, " is abso- 
 lutely of no consequence, but remember that you live 
 here, and " 
 
 " Don't be silly ! " he interrupted. " What does that 
 matter? And besides, according to you and all the 
 rest of you here, these things don't affect a man's repu- 
 tation they are expected of him. See, I have rung 
 the bell for breakfast. Now I am going to telephone 
 down for a messenger-boy to go for your clothes." 
 
 They breakfasted together, a little later, and she 
 made him smoke. He stood before the window, look- 
 ing down upon the river, with his pipe in his mouth and 
 an unfamiliar look upon his face. 
 
 " Do you suppose that Louise knows anything? " he 
 asked at length. 
 
 " I should think not," she replied. ** It is for you 
 to tell her. I rang up the prince's house while you 
 were in your bathroom. They say that he has a 
 broken rib and some bad cuts, sustained in a motor ac- 
 cident last night, but that he is in no danger. There 
 was nothing about the affair in the newspapers, and the 
 prince's servants have evidently been instructed to give 
 this account to inquirers." 
 
 A gleam of interest shone in John's face. 
 
 " By the bye," he remarked, " the prince is a French- 
 man. He will very likely expect me to fight with him." 
 
 " No hope of that, my belligerent friend," Sophy 
 declared, with an attempt at a smile. " The prince 
 knows that he is in England. He would not be guilty 
 of such an anachronism. Besides, he is a person of 
 wonderfully well-balanced mind. When he is himself 
 again, he will realize that what happened to him is ex- 
 actly what he asked for."
 
 310 THE HILLMAN 
 
 John took up his hat and gloves. He glanced at the 
 clock it was a little past eleven. 
 
 " I am ready," he announced. " Let me drive you 
 home first." 
 
 His motor was waiting at the door, and he left 
 Sophy at her rooms. Before she got out, she held his 
 arm for a moment. 
 
 " John," she said, " remember that Louise is very 
 high-strung and very sensitive. Be careful ! " 
 
 " There is only one thing to do or to say," he an- 
 swered. " There is only one way in which I can do 
 it." 
 
 He drove the car down Piccadilly like a man in a 
 dream, steering as carefully as usual through the traf- 
 fic, and glancing every now and then with unseeing 
 eyes at the streams of people upon the pavements. 
 Finally he came to a standstill before Louise's house 
 and stopped the engine with deliberate care. Then he 
 rang the bell, and was shown into her little drawing- 
 room, which seemed to have become a perfect bower of 
 pink and white lilac. 
 
 He sat waiting as if in a dream, unable to decide 
 upon his words, unable even to sift his thoughts. The 
 one purpose with which he had come, the one question 
 he designed to ask, was burning in his brain. The 
 minutes of her absence seemed tragically long. He 
 walked up and down, oppressed by the perfume of the 
 flowers. The room seemed too small for him. He 
 longed to throw open all the windows, to escape from 
 the atmosphere, in which for the first time he seemed 
 to find some faint, enervating poison. 
 
 Then at last the door opened and Louise entered. 
 She came toward him with a little welcoming smile upon 
 her lips. Her manner was gay, almost affectionate.
 
 THE HILLMAN 311 
 
 " Have you come to take me for a ride before 
 lunch ? " she asked. " Do you know, I think that I 
 should really like it ! We might lunch at Ranelagh on 
 our way home." 
 
 The words stuck in his throat. From where she was, 
 she saw now the writing on his face. She stopped 
 short. 
 
 " What is it? " she exclaimed. 
 
 " Ever since I knew you," he said slowly, " there 
 have been odd moments when I have lived in torture. 
 During the last fortnight, those moments have become 
 hours. Last night the end came." 
 
 " Are you mad, John ? " she demanded. 
 
 " Perhaps," he replied. " Listen. When I left you 
 last night, I went to the club in Adelphi Terrace. 
 There was a well-known critic there, comparing you 
 and Latrobe. On the whole he favored you, but he 
 gave Latrobe the first place in certain parts. Latrobe, 
 he said, had had more experience of life. She had had 
 a dozen lovers you, only one ! " 
 
 She winced. The glad freshness seemed suddenly to 
 fade from her face. Her eyes became strained. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " I found Graillot. I cornered him. I asked him 
 for the truth about you. He put me off with an eva- 
 sion. I came down here and looked at your window. 
 It was three o'clock in the morning. I dared not come 
 in. A very demon of unrest was in my blood. I 
 stopped at a night-club on my way back. Sophy was 
 there. I asked her plainly to put me out of my agony. 
 She was like Graillot. She fenced with me. And then 
 the prince came ! " 
 
 " The prince was there? " she faltered. 
 
 " He came up to the table where Sophy and I were
 
 3 i2 THE HILLMAN 
 
 sitting. I think I was half mad. I poured him a 
 glass of wine and asked him to drink with me. I told 
 him that you had promised to become my wife. He 
 raised his glass I can see him now. He told me, with 
 a smile, that it was the anniversary of the day on which 
 you had promised to become his mistress 1 " 
 
 Louise shrank back. 
 
 "He told you that?" 
 
 John was on his feet. The fever was blazing once 
 more. 
 
 " He told me that, face to face told me that it 
 was the anniversary of the day on which you had con- 
 sented to become his mistress ! " 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 " If we had been alone," John answered simply, " I 
 should have killed him. I drove the words down his 
 throat. I threw him back to the place he had left, and 
 hurt him rather badly, I'm afraid. Sophy took me 
 home somehow, and now I am here." 
 
 She leaned a little forward on the couch. She looked 
 into his face searchingly, anxiously, as if seeking for 
 something she could not find. His lips were set in 
 hard, cold lines. The likeness to Stephen had never 
 been more apparent. 
 
 " Listen ! " she said. " You are a Puritan. While 
 I admire the splendid self-restraint evolved from your 
 creed, it is partly temperamental, isn't it? I was 
 brought up to see things differently, and I do see them 
 differently. Tell me, do you love me?" 
 
 The veins swelled for a moment upon his forehead, 
 stood out like whip-cord along the back of his hands, 
 but of softening there was no sign in his face. 
 
 "Love you? " he repeated. "You know it! Could 
 I suffer the tortures of the damned if I didn't? Could
 
 THE HILLMAN 313 
 
 I come to you with a man's blood upon my hands if 
 I didn't? If the prince lives, it is simply the accident 
 of fate. I tell you that if we had been alone I should 
 have driven the breath out of his body. Love you!'* 
 
 She rose slowly to her feet. She leaned with her el- 
 bow upon the mantelpiece, and her face was hidden 
 for a moment. 
 
 '* Let me think ! " she said. " I don't know what to 
 say to you. I don't know you, John. There isn't 
 anything left of the John I loved. Let me look 
 again ! " 
 
 She swung around. 
 
 " You speak of love," she went on suddenly. " Do 
 you know what it is? Do you know that loves reaches 
 to the heavens, and can also touch the nethermost 
 depths of hell? If I throw myself on my knees before 
 you now, if I link my fingers around your neck, if I 
 whisper to you that in the days that were past be- 
 fore you came I had done things I would fain forget, 
 if I told you that from henceforth every second of my 
 life was yours, that my heart beat with yours by day 
 and by night, that I had no other thought, no other 
 idream, than to stay by your side, to see you happy, 
 to give all there was of myself into your keeping, to 
 keep it holy and sacred for you John, what then? " 
 
 Never a line in his face softened. He looked at her 
 a moment as he had looked at the woman in Piccadilly, 
 into whose hand he had dropped gold. 
 
 " Are you going to tell me that it is the truth ? " he 
 asked hoarsely. 
 
 She stood quite still, her bosom rising and falling. 
 Even then she made one last effort. She held out her 
 hands with a little trembling gesture, her eyes filled 
 with tears.
 
 314 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " Think for a single moment of that feeling which 
 you call love, John ! " she pleaded. " Listen ! I love 
 you. It has come to me at last, after all these years. 
 It lives in my heart, a greater thing than my ambi- 
 tion, a greater thing than my success, a greater thing 
 than life itself. I love you, John. Can't you feel, 
 don't you know, that nothing else in life can matter? " 
 
 Not a line in his face softened. His teeth had come 
 together. He was like a man upon the rack. 
 
 "It is true? It is true, then? " he demanded. 
 
 She looked at him without any reply. The seconds 
 seemed drawn out to an interminable period. He 
 heard the rolling of the motor-buses in the street. Once 
 more the perfume of the lilacs seemed to choke him. 
 Then she leaned back and touched the bell. 
 
 " The prince spoke the truth," she said. " I think 
 you had better go ! "
 
 XXXVII 
 
 Before the wide-flung window of her attic bedcham- 
 < ber, Sophy Gerard was crouching with her face turned 
 westward. She had abandoned all effort to sleep. 
 The one thought that was beating in her brain was 
 too insistent, too clamorous. Somewhere beyond that 
 tangled mass of chimneys and telegraph-poles, some- 
 where on the other side of the gray haze which hung 
 about the myriad roofs, John and Louise were working 
 out their destiny, speaking at last the naked truth to 
 each other. 
 
 Somehow or other, during those few minutes every 
 thought of herself and her own life seemed to have 
 passed away. John's face seemed always before her 
 the sudden, hard lines about his mouth; the dull, 
 smoldering pain in his eyes. How would he return? 
 Louise had guarded the secret of her life so well. 
 Would he wrest it from her, or 
 
 She started suddenly back into the room. There 
 was a knocking at the door, something quite different 
 from her landlady's summons. She wrapped her dress- 
 ing-gown around her, pulled the curtains around the 
 little bed on which she had striven to rest, and moved 
 toward the door. She turned the handle softly. 
 
 " Who is that? " she asked. 
 
 John almost pushed his way past her. She closed 
 the door with nerveless fingers. Her eyes sought his 
 face, her lips were parted. She clung *o the back of 
 the chair.
 
 316 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " You have seen Louise? " she exclaimed breathlessly. 
 
 " I have seen Louise," he answered. " It is all 
 over ! " 
 
 She looked a little helplessly around her. Then she 
 selected the one chair in the tiny apartment that was 
 likely to hold him, and led him to it. 
 
 " Please sit down," she begged, " and tell me about 
 it. You mustn't despair like this all at once. I won- 
 der if I could help ! " 
 
 " No one can help," he told her grimly. " It is all 
 finished and done with. I would rather not talk any 
 more about it. I didn't come here to talk about it. 
 I came to see you. So this is where you live ! " 
 
 He looked around him, and for a moment he almost 
 forgot the pain which was gnawing at his heart. It 
 was such a simple, plainly furnished little room, so 
 clean, so neat, so pathetically eloquent of poverty. 
 She drew closer together the curtains which concealed 
 her little chintz-covered bed, and came and sat down by; 
 his side. 
 
 " You know, you are rather a silly person," she whis- 
 pered soothingly. "Wait for a time and perhaps 
 things will look different. I know that Louise cares. 
 Isn't that the great thing, after all? " 
 
 " I would like not to talk about it any more," said 
 John. " Just now I cannot put what I feel into words. 
 What remains is just this: I have been a fool, a sort 
 of Don Quixote, building castles in Spain and believ- 
 ing that real men and women could live in them. I 
 have expected the impossible in life. It is perhaps a 
 good thing that I can see the truth now. I am going 
 to climb down ! " 
 
 She clasped her hands tighter around his arm. Her 
 eyes sought his anxiously.
 
 THE HILLMAN 317 
 
 " But you mustn't climb down, John," she insisted. 
 ** You are so much nicer where you are, so much too 
 good for the silly, ugly things. You must fight this in 
 your own way, fight it according to your own stand- 
 ards. You are too good to come down " 
 
 " Am I too good for you, Sophy ? " 
 
 She looked at him, and her whole face seemed to 
 soften. The light in her blue eyes was sweet and wist- 
 ful. A bewildering little smile curled her lips. 
 
 " Don't be stupid ! " she begged. " A few minutes 
 ago I was looking out of my window and thinking what 
 a poor little morsel of humanity I am, and what a use- 
 less, drifting life I have led. But that's foolish. 
 Come now ! What I want to persuade you to do is to 
 go back to Cumberland for a time, and try hard : 
 very hard indeed to realize what it means to be a 
 woman like Louise, with her temperament, her intense 
 intellectual curiosity, her charm. Nothing could make 
 Louise different from what she is a dear, sweet woman 
 and a great artist. And, John, I believe she loves 
 you!" 
 
 His face remained undisturbed even by the flicker of 
 an eyelid. 
 
 " Sophy," he said, " I have decided to go abroad. 
 Will you come with me?" 
 
 She sat quite still. Again her face was momentarily 
 transformed. All its pallor and fatigue seemed to have 
 vanished. Her head had fallen a little back. She 
 was looking through the ceiling into heaven. Then the 
 light died away almost as quickly as it had come. Her 
 lips shook tremulously. 
 
 " You know you don't mean it, John ! You wouldn't 
 take me. And if you did, you'd hate me afterward 
 you'd want to send me back ! "
 
 3i8 THE HILLMAN 
 
 He suddenly drew her to him, his arm went around 
 her waist. She had lost all power of resistance. For 
 the first time in his life of his own deliberate accord, he 
 kissed her feverishly, almost roughly. 
 
 " Sophy," he declared, " I have been a fool 1 I have 
 come an awful cropper, but you might help me with 
 what's left. I am going to start afresh. I am go- 
 ing to get rid of some of these ideas of mine which 
 have brought me nothing but misery and disappoint- 
 ment. I don't want to live up to them any longer. I 
 want to just forget them. I want to live as other men 
 live just the simple, ordinary life. Come with me! 
 I'll take you to the places we've talked about together. 
 I am always happy and contented with you. Let's try 
 it!" 
 
 Her arms stole around his neck. 
 
 " If only you cared, John ! " she sobbed. 
 
 " But I do," he insisted. " I love to have you with 
 me, I love to see you happy, I shall love to give you 
 pretty things. I shall be proud of you, soothed by you 
 : and rested. What do you say, Sophy?" 
 
 " John," she whispered, hiding her face for a mo- 
 ment. "What can I say? What could any poor, 
 weak, little creature like me say? You know I am 
 fond of you I haven't had the pride, even, to con- 
 ceal it!" 
 
 He stood up, held her face for a moment between his 
 hands, and kissed her forehead. 
 
 " Then that's all settled," he declared. " I am go- 
 ing back to my rooms now. I want you to come and 
 dine with me there to-night, at eight o'clock." 
 
 Her eyes sought his, pleaded with them, searched 
 them. 
 
 "You are sure, John? " she asked, her voice a little
 
 THE HILLMAN 319 
 
 broken. "You want me really? I am to come? You 
 won't be sorry afterward? " 
 
 " I am sure," he answered steadfastly. " I shall ex- 
 pect you at eight o'clock 1 " 
 
 John went back to his rooms fighting all the time 
 against a sense of unreality, a sense almost of lost iden- 
 tity. He bought an evening newspaper and read it on 
 the way. He talked to the hall-porter, he talked to 
 a neighbor with whom he ascended in the lift he did 
 everything except think. 
 
 In his rooms he telephoned to the restaurant for a 
 waiter, and with the menu in his hand, a few minutes 
 later, he ordered dinner. Then he glanced at his watch 
 it was barely seven o'clock. He went down to the 
 barber-shop, was shaved and had his hair cut, encour- 
 aging the barber all the time to talk to him. He gave 
 his hands over to a manicure, and did his best to talk 
 nonsense to her. Then he came up-stairs again, 
 changed his clothes with great care, and went into his 
 little sitting room. 
 
 It was five minutes to eight, and dinner had been 
 laid at a little round table in the center of the room. 
 There was a bowl of pink roses Sophy's favorite 
 flower sent in from the florist's ; the table was lighted 
 by a pink-shaded lamp. John went around the room, 
 turning out the other lights, until the apartment was 
 hung with shadows save for the little spot of color in 
 the middle. An unopened bottle of champagne stood 
 in an ice-pail, and two specially prepared cocktails had 
 been placed upon the little side-table. There were no 
 more preparations to be made. 
 
 John walked restlessly to the window and gazed at 
 the curving line of lights along the Embankment. This
 
 320 THE HILLMAN 
 
 was the end, then the end of his strenuous days, 
 the end of his ideals, the end of a love-story which had 
 made life for a time seem so wonderful ! He could hear 
 them talking about him in a few days' time the 
 prince's subtle sneer, the jests of his acquaintances. 
 And Louise! His heart stopped for a moment as he 
 tried to think of her face when she heard the news. 
 
 He turned impatiently away from the window and 
 glanced at the clock. It was almost eight. He tried 
 to imagine that the bell was ringing, that Sophy was 
 standing there on the threshold in her simple but dainty 
 evening dress, with a little smile parting her lips. The 
 end of it all ! He pulled down the blind. No more of 
 the window, no more looking out at the lights, no more 
 living in the clouds ! It was time, indeed, that he lived 
 as other men. He lifted one of the glasses to his lips 
 and drained its contents. 
 
 Then the bell rang. He moved forward to answer 
 its summons with beating heart. As he opened it, he 
 received a shock. A messenger-boy stood outside. 
 He took the note which the boy handed him and 
 tore it open under the lamp. There were only a few 
 lines: 
 
 John, my heart is breaking, but I know you do not mean 
 what you said. I know it was only a moment of madness 
 with you. I know you will love Louise all your life, and 
 will bless me all your life because I am giving up the one 
 thing which could make my life a paradise. I shall be in the 
 train when you read this, on my way to Bath. I have wired 
 my young man, as you call him, to meet me. I am going to 
 ask him to marry me, if he will, next week. 
 
 Good-by! I give you no advice. Some day I think that 
 life will right itself with you. 
 
 SOPHY.
 
 THE HILLMAN 321 
 
 The letter dropped upon the table. John stood for 
 a moment dazed. Suddenly he began to laugh. Then 
 he remembered the messenger-boy, gave him half a 
 crown, and closed the door. He came back into the 
 room and took his place at the table. He looked at 
 the empty chair by his side, looked at the full glass on 
 the sideboard. It seemed to him that he was past all 
 sensations. The waiter came in silently. 
 
 " You can serve the dinner," John ordered, shaking 
 out his napkin. " Open the champagne before you go." 
 
 " You will be alone, sir ? " the man inquired. 
 
 " I shall be alone," John answered.
 
 XXXVIII 
 
 It was a room of silence, save for the hissing of the 
 green logs that burned on the open hearth, and for 
 the slow movements of Jennings as he cleared the table. 
 Straight and grim in his chair, with the newspaper by 
 his side, Stephen Strangewey sat smoking stolidly. 
 Opposite to him, almost as grim, equally silent, sat 
 John. 
 
 " Things were quiet at Market Ketton to-day, then, 
 D"ohn? " Stephen asked at last. 
 
 " There was nothing doing," was the brief reply. 
 
 That, for the space of a quarter of an hour or so, 
 was the sole attempt at conversation between the two 
 brothers. Then Jennings appeared with a decanter 
 of wine and two glasses, which he reverently filled. 
 Stephen held his up to the light and looked at it crit- 
 ically. John's remained by his side, unnoticed. 
 
 " A glass for yourself, Jennings," Stephen ordered. 
 
 " I thank ye kindly, sir," the old man replied. 
 
 He fetched a glass from the sideboard, filled it, and 
 held it respectfully before him. 
 
 "It's the old toast," Stephen said glumly. "You 
 know it ! " 
 
 " Aye, Master Stephen ! " the servant assented. 
 "We've drunk it together for many a long year. I 
 give it ye now with all my heart r. confusion to all 
 women ! " 
 
 They both glanced toward John, who showed no signs 
 of movement. Then they drank together, the older
 
 THE HILLMAN 323 
 
 man and his servant. Still John never moved. Jen- 
 nings drained his glass, placed the decanter by his mas- 
 ter's side, and withdrew. 
 
 " So the poison's still there, brother ? " Stephen 
 asked. 
 
 "And will be so long as I live," John confessed 
 gloomily. " For all that, I'll not drink your toast." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " There was a little girl you saw her when you 
 were in London. She is married now, but I think of 
 her sometimes; and when I do, you and old Jennings 
 seem to me like a couple of blithering idiots cursing 
 things too wonderful for you to understand ! " 
 
 Stephen made no protest. For a time he smoked in 
 silence. Curiously enough, as they sat there together, 
 some of the grim fierceness seemed to have passed from 
 his expression and settled upon John. More than once, 
 as he looked across at his younger brother, it almost 
 seemed as if there was something of self-reproach in 
 his questioning look. 
 
 " You dined at the ordinary in Market Ketton ? " 
 Stephen asked at last. 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " Then you heard the news ? " 
 
 "Who could help it?" John muttered. "There 
 wasn't much else talked about." 
 
 " Bailiff Henderson has been over here," Stephen 
 went on. " There's a small army of painters and deco- 
 rators coming down to the castle next week. You saw 
 the announcement of the wedding in the Morning Post, 
 maybe ? " 
 
 John assented without words. Stephen smoked 
 vigorously for a few moments. Every now and then 
 he glanced across to where John was sitting. Once
 
 324 THE HILLMAN 
 
 again the uneasiness was in his eyes, an uneasiness 
 which was almost self-reproach. 
 
 " You mind what I called her once, John a witch- 
 woman? She is that, right enough. This marriage 
 of hers proves it. Although he is half a Frenchman, 
 the Prince of Seyre is the greatest landowner in the 
 county. He is the worst landlord, maybe, but the 
 blood's there. He is a man who has lived among women 
 all his life. He should know something about them, 
 and be proof against their wiles. Yet he's going to 
 marry her next Thursday ! " 
 
 John moved a little restlessly in his chair. 
 
 "Let's drop it, Stephen," he begged. "We both 
 know the facts. She is going to marry him, and that's 
 the end of it. Fill your glass up again. Here's mine 
 untouched. I'll drink your toast with you, if you'll 
 leave out the little girl who was kind to me. I'll give it 
 to you myself confusion to all women ! " 
 
 " Confusion to " Stephen began. " What on earth 
 is that?" 
 
 They both heard it at the same time the faint 
 beating of a motor-engine in the distance. John set 
 down his glass. There was a strange look in his eyes. 
 
 " There are more cars passing along the road now 
 than in the old days," he muttered ; " but that's a queer 
 sound. It reminds one good Heavens, how it re- 
 minds one!" 
 
 There was a look of agony in his face for a moment. 
 Then once more he raised his glass to his lips. 
 
 " It's passed out of hearing," Stephen said. " It's 
 some one on the way to the castle, maybe." 
 
 Still their glasses remained suspended in mid air. 
 The little garden gate had opened and closed with a 
 click ; there were footsteps upon the flinty walk.
 
 THE HILLMAN 325 
 
 '* It's some one coming here 1 " John cried hoarsely. 
 *' Why can't they keep away ? It's two years ago this 
 week since I brought her up the drive and you met us 
 at the front door. Two years ago, Stephen! Who 
 can it be? " 
 
 They heard the front door open, they heard Jen- 
 ning's voice raised in unusual and indignant protest. 
 Then their own door was suddenly flung wide, and a 
 miracle happened. John's glass slipped from his fin- 
 gers, and the wine streamed out across the carpet. He 
 shrank back, gripping the tablecloth. Stephen turned 
 his head, and sat as if turned to stone. 
 
 "John!" 
 
 She was coming toward him exactly as he had 
 dreamed of her so many times, her hands outstretched, 
 her lips quivering, with that sweet look in her face 
 which had dwelt there once for a few days just a few 
 days of her life. 
 
 " John," she faltered, " it isn't the car this time 
 it is I who have broken down! I cannot go on. I 
 have no pride left. I have come to you. Will you 
 help me? " 
 
 He found himself upon his feet. Stephen, too, had 
 risen. She stood between the two men, and glanced 
 from one to the other. Then she looked more closely 
 into John's face, peering forward with a little start of 
 pain, and her eyes were filled with tears. 
 
 " John," she cried, " forgive me ! You were so cruel 
 that morning, and you seemed to understand so little. 
 Don't you really understand, even now? Have you 
 ever known the truth, I wonder? " 
 
 " The truth ! " he echoed hoarsely. " Don't we all 
 know that? Don't we all know that he is to give you 
 your rights, that you are coming "
 
 326 THE HILLMAN 
 
 " Stop ! " she ordered him. 
 
 He obeyed, and for a moment there was silence 
 a tense, strained silence. 
 
 " John," she continued at last, " I have no rights 
 to receive from the Prince of Seyre. He owes me noth- 
 ing. Listen! Always we have seen life differently, 
 you and I. To me there is only one great thing, and 
 that is love; and beyond that nothing counts. I tried 
 to love the prince before you came, and I thought I 
 did, and I promised him at last what you know, be- 
 cause I believed that he loved me and that I loved him, 
 and that if so it was his right. Look down the road, 
 John! On that night I was on my way to the castle, 
 to give myself to him; but I broke down, and in the 
 morning the world was all different, and I went back 
 to London. It has been different ever since, and there 
 has never been any question of anything between 
 the prince and me, because I knew that it was not 
 love." 
 
 John was shaking in every limb. His eyes were filled 
 with fierce questioning. Stephen sat there, and there 
 was wonder in his face, too. 
 
 " When you came to me that morning," she went 
 on, " you spoke to me in a strange tongue. I couldn't 
 understand you, you seemed so far away. I wanted to 
 tell you the whole truth, but I didn't. Perhaps I wasn't 
 sure perhaps it seemed to me that it was best for 
 me to forget, if ever I had cared, for the ways of our 
 lives seemed so far apart. You went away, and I 
 drifted on ; but it wasn't true that I ever promised to 
 marry the prince. No one had any right to put that 
 paragraph in the newspaper ! " 
 
 " But what are you doing here, then?" John asked 
 hoarsely. "Aren't you on your way to the castle?"
 
 THE HILLMAN 327 
 
 She came a little nearer still ; her arms went around 
 his neck. 
 
 " You dear stupid ! " she cried. " Haven't I told 
 you? I've tried to do without you, and I can't. I've 
 come for you. Come outside, please ! It's quite light. 
 The moon's coming over the hills. I want to walk up 
 the orchard. I want to hear just what I've come to 
 hear!" 
 
 He passed out of the room in a dream, under the 
 blossom-laden boughs of the orchard, and up the hill- 
 side toward the church. The dream passed, but 
 Louise remained, flesh and blood. Her lips were warm 
 and her arms held him almost feverishly. 
 
 " In that little church, John, and quickly so 
 quickly, please ! " she whispered. 
 
 Jennings hastened in to where Stephen was sitting 
 alone. 
 
 "Mr. Stephen," he cried, "what's coming to us? 
 There's that French hussy outside, and a motor-car 
 in the drive, and the chauffeur's asking where he's to 
 sleep. The woman wants to know whether she can 
 have the same bedroom for her mistress as last time ! " 
 
 " Then why don't you go and see about it, you 
 old fool ? " Stephen replied. " Pick up those pieces 
 of glass there, lay the cloth, and get some supper 
 ready." 
 
 Jennings gazed at his master, dumbfounded. No 
 power of speech remained to him. 
 
 Through the open doorway they heard Aline's voice 
 in the hall. 
 
 " Meester Jennings, will you please come and help 
 me with the luggage ? " 
 
 " (Jet along with you ! " Stephen ordered. " You'd
 
 328 THE HILLMAN 
 
 better hurry up with the supper, too. The boy Tom 
 can see to the luggage." 
 
 The old man recovered himself slowly. 
 
 " You're taking 'em in, sir taking 'em into the 
 house? " he gasped. "What about that toast? " 
 
 Stephen refilled two glasses. 
 
 " We'd better alter it a little," he declared. " Here's 
 confusion to most women, but luck to John and his 
 wife!" 
 
 " Mr. John and his wife ! " Jennings repeated, as he 
 set his glass down empty. "I'll just see that them 
 sheets is aired up-stairs, sir, or that hussy will be mak- 
 ing eyes at Tom ! " 
 
 He departed, and Stephen was left alone. He sat 
 and listened to the sound of luggage being taken up- 
 stairs, to Aline's little torrent of directions, good-hu- 
 mored but profuse, to the sound of preparations in the 
 kitchen. In the room the tall clock ticked solemnly; 
 a fragment of the log every now and then fell upon the 
 hearth. 
 
 Presently he rose to his feet. He heard the click 
 of the garden gate, the sound of John and Louise re- 
 turning. He rose and stood ready to welcome them. 
 
 THE END
 
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