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 A WIFE'S HONOR 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 AUTHOR OF " ONLY A WOMAN'S HEART," ETC. 
 
 " Say, what is honor? '77.9 the finest sense 
 Of justice which the human mind can frame, 
 Intent each lurking frailty to disclaim, 
 And guard the -way of all offense 
 Sujftred or done" 
 
 [WORDSWORTH. 
 
 CHICAGO: 
 
 GEO. W. OGILVIE, PUBLISHER, 
 230 Lake Street
 
 COPYRIGHTED, 1885, 
 
 -BY-
 
 A WIFE'S HONOR. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 CHESTER'S WI*E. 
 
 " Undoubtedly he will relent and turn 
 
 From his displeasure." Milton. 
 
 " I can go alone, Chester. You need not bore yourself 
 with my society. It is altogether unnecessary." 
 
 The words were spoken with a hauteur of tone and 
 gesture which were quite unusual to the speaker. She 
 slowly arose from her half-reclining posture upon the 
 rustic bench, and turned away with an assumption of in- 
 difference. 
 
 Chester Boynton, who had been lying upon the velvety 
 grass near her for the last hour, slowly faced her, a slight 
 frown setting upon his brow. 
 
 " I find it very pleasant here," he slowly said, a tinge 
 of coldness in his tone. 
 
 " Then remain, by all means," the young wife retorted 
 with the sharpness prompted by pique. 
 
 " I wouldn't have you disturb yourself to please me for 
 anything," she continued, moving slowly, yet resolutely 
 up the slope. " It appears we can do nicely without each 
 other of late. When we are together something unplea- 
 sant is sure to be said, and we both get angry. Of course 
 the blame all lies with me, for you think it does. It is 
 strange that your wonderful power of reading human na- 
 ture did not teach you better than to bind yourself for 
 life to one of my disposition. For I didn't mean to de- 
 ceive you. We quarreled before we were married! " 
 
 Mr. Boynton averted his face while she was speaking, 
 whether to hide a smile or a frown could not be seen. 
 
 " You will fall into a better mood by and by, Tracy," 
 he said. 
 
 2073070
 
 6 CHESTER'S WIFE. 
 
 There was more of carelessness than reproach in his 
 tones. It had better been plain reproach, for there is 
 nothing so dangerous as an assumption of indifference 
 toward a sensitive soul. 
 
 Mrs. Boynton was keenly sensitive, imaginative, affec- 
 tionate. She was beautiful herself, and an admirer of 
 the beautiful. There was much in her character which 
 was rare and loveable; yet it was not goodness nor amia- 
 bility without alloy. That never exists in this world 
 and it is perpetually looked for; hence arises perpetual 
 disappointment. 
 
 Tracy Boynton quickened her steps, unmindful of the 
 increasing steepness of the ascent. For the scene was 
 upon a mountain side, near a small, quiet summer hotel 
 perched upon a grassy plot with a steep, zigzag road be- 
 low and an almost perpendicular pathway above. In a 
 momem the young wife had passed beyond the view of 
 Mr. Boynton. 
 
 Toward the base of the mountain the sides were cov- 
 ered with patches of verdure, mottled with gray rocks and 
 shaded by clumps of trees. But as you ascended the 
 way became steeper, and the rocks predominated, grow- 
 ing rugged and sharp. In places steps had been chiseled 
 to make the heights more easily accessible. There were 
 occasional tufts of grass and shrubbery all the way, grow- 
 in from clefts, and sustained by thin patches of soil. 
 
 Tracy Boynton ran up the path with a reckless swift- 
 ness. There were places where a misstep would have 
 cost her her life or at best fractured limbs. But in the 
 heat of her resentment she tempted fate. What if she 
 should fall ? she asked herself. Would her husband care ? 
 If he did care, why did he refuse to humor her wish, and 
 climb the steep at her side? 
 
 Of course these questionings were unreasonable, and 
 when the flash of anger was past she would see them to 
 have been so. But now her resentful feelings were fed 
 by them, and as she ran on and on she almost wished that 
 she might fall and be killed by accident.
 
 CHESTER'S WIFE. 7 
 
 She reached a small level space. There was a large 
 tree a white maple shading the little oasis upon the 
 ledgy mountain -side. It was a lovely spot, with its cool 
 shade, the brisk breeze, the cool spring of water in a 
 natural cleft, and the world bright and warm spread be- 
 low. 
 
 Flushed and panting she sank down beside the tree, 
 and leaned her throbbing brow against the rough bark. 
 A few passionate tears came into her eyes. But she 
 brushed them away with one slender hand, and gazed 
 resolutely upon the enchanting landscape spread below. 
 
 The heat of her impulse passed away almost impercep- 
 tibly. She pesently found nerself wondering if her hus- 
 band was not even then climbing the ascent in quest of 
 her. She bent eagerly forward, in hopes to catch a 
 glimpse of him before he should perceive her. 
 
 But the moments passed and Chester Boynton did not 
 appear. 
 
 "I'll wait till he does come?" she said aloud, her sweet 
 face brightening with a smile. 
 
 "I'll cure him of his ugly whims," she continued, her 
 tones half -playful, half resentful. " He is so glum of 
 late that he needs stirring up. It is all because of those 
 dreadful classics. He buries himself in them so deeply 
 that it never occurs to him that his young wife is pretty 
 and childish. For I am pretty, and I can see it so plainly 
 in the face of everybody who looks at me. Not that I 
 care about it, only for him. But for my husband I had 
 as soon be as ugly as Herate!" 
 
 Tracy's soliloquy was as earnestly spoken as though it 
 were to father-confessor. She rose to her feet and paced 
 the level space to and fro. Then she went and drank 
 from the spring, dipping the water with the cocoanut 
 shell cup. 
 
 An hour passed. The delicious breeze suddenly died 
 away, and as suddenly the brigntness upon the landscape 
 below became overcast by a dark, creeping shadow. 
 
 Tracy Boynton did not notice this shadow until it
 
 8 CHESTER*S WIFE. 
 
 readied the immediate vicinity of the huge maple. Then 
 she was startled, not only by the increasing darkness, but 
 by an abrupt, heavy rumble, as though a large boulder 
 had become detached and was rolling down the mountain- 
 side. 
 
 An upward glance explained it all, and Mrs. Boynton 
 was thrilled by an impetuous wish to descend to the 
 hotel. 
 
 It was one of those sudden summer storms, that come 
 up so quickly, and sometimes develop so much fury. It 
 had gatheied in the southwest, and the heights of the 
 mountain had hidden until it was nearly overhead. 
 
 Tracey started toward the path, bent upon leaving the 
 spot which a moment before was so attractive, but which 
 now had become so lonely. 
 
 Upon the instant, however, another impulse seized her, 
 and she returned with resolute face to the spring, and 
 seated herself upon a broad, flat rock. 
 
 " Chester must have seen the storm coming," she ex- 
 claimed aloud, her lips fluttering with a renewed sense 
 of injury. "And he ought to have come in quest of me. 
 How does he know that I am not detained by a mishap? 
 Would he leave me to face the storm alone, upon the 
 mountain-side? If he cares, he will come. If he doesn't 
 come, then I will stay !" 
 
 The resolution once taken, found justification through 
 a new course of reasoning. She was angry again ; and in 
 anger no decision can be right. 
 
 It soon became evident that she could not have reached 
 the hotel before the storm broke, even if she had attempt- 
 ed to do BO. 
 
 A swift, fitful gust awept through the great maple, caus- 
 ing it to shiver, as with dread. A dash of large rain drops 
 at the same time splashed and rattled all around, and 
 then ceased. Then came another dash, a dull gleam of 
 lightning, a nearer growl of thunder, and last a low, in- 
 creasing roar of falling rain. 
 
 Tracy Boynton was mortally afraid of lightning; she
 
 CHESTER^ WIPE. 9 
 
 had once received a shock from a passing bolt, and had 
 never recovered from the sense or dread with which it 
 had inspired her. And now realizing the loneliness and 
 possible peril of her position, she crouched upon the rock, 
 covered her face with her hands, and trembled with a 
 wild, overpowering fear. 
 
 She was speedily drenched with the rain; little rivue- 
 lets trickled around her, while the rock upon which she 
 sat threatened to become submerged. Yet she dared not 
 stir. The lightning glared, the thunder crashed, and in 
 the dread inspired by these, minor discomforts were for- 
 gotten. 
 
 The moments passed slowly enough. It seemed like 
 an hour after the storm began that she was aroused from 
 her lethargy of dread by a new sound. In reality the 
 period was less then ten minutes. 
 
 She uncovered her face and sprang eagerly to her feet, 
 with a cry of joy ; Chester had come no ! It was not 
 her husband. The one advancing was taller than Mr. 
 Boynton, and unmistakably handsomer. 
 
 The man paused, staring at the slender, dripping fig- 
 ure before him. His clear, blue eyes expressed first, won- 
 der; then recognition; and then, pleasure. He sprang 
 forward, held out both hands in a frank, eager way. 
 
 "Tracy Sherman, as I live!" he cried. 
 
 His was a cheery, musical voice; and for the young 
 wife of Chester Boynton it brought only pleasant recol- 
 lections. She permitted her hands to rest for a moment 
 in his cordial grasp, forgetting for the instant the situ- 
 ation and even her identity. But it all flashed back upon 
 her quickly enough. 
 
 " You forget, Mr. Temple," she returned, a slight 
 flush relieving the pallor of her face. " I'm no longer 
 Tracy Sherman. I am " 
 
 '' Mrs. Chester Boynton," he supplied, as she hesitated. 
 Did she imagine it? Or was there a tinge of regret in 
 his tones, matched by a slight contraction of brow? If 
 they were really present, they passed quickly enough.
 
 10 CHESTER'S WIFE. 
 
 Philip Temple could never wear a moody brow for more 
 than a minute at a time. 
 
 " I did forget for an instant because I was so sur- 
 prised, I suppose," he went on. There came a vivid 
 lightning flash just then, and the succeeding thunder 
 was so heavy that he could not have made himself heard 
 had he wished to do so. 
 
 Besides, Mrs. Boynton was holding her hands to her 
 ears, to shut out the deafening crash. 
 
 "Isn't it terrible!" she breathlessly exclaimed, a mo- 
 ment later. 
 
 " Rather wet, to be sure," Mr. Temple replied. At 
 the same time a look of amused perplexity came into his 
 eyes, and he asked: 
 
 " Isn't this a new freak of yours, Tracy ? I don't rec- 
 ollect ever seeing you select such a spot as this for wit- 
 nessing a thunder storm. I thought you used to be 
 timid." 
 
 " I am timid," she hastened to reply. Of course she 
 could not tell him why she was there, nor why she had 
 not returned to the hotel. So she hastened to add : 
 
 " I didn't see the storm until a moment before it be- 
 gan raining, so I preferred remaining to making an at- 
 tempt at descent. It is so steep, you know." 
 
 *A wise decision. And your husband he is at the 
 hotel, I suppose ? " 
 
 " It is more likely that he is looking for me," she de- 
 clared, quickly. Not for the world would she have Philip 
 Temple suspect the truth. 
 
 "And the poor fellow is doubtless in a fever of anxi- 
 ety," the other hastened to say, adding : 
 
 " It is cruel to keep him in such suspense. Permit 
 me to assist you to descend. The storm is nearly over. 
 And then you can present me to your husband, for I've 
 a curiosity to see such a lucky fellow ! " 
 
 This was spoken in a light vein, and from anothei 
 would not have been noticed by Mrs. Boynton. But she 
 had reason to believe that this man by her side consid-
 
 THE NEW COMER. 11 
 
 ered Chester Boynton as especially fortunate in winning 
 what he had failed to secure. 
 
 Five years ago how much had happened since ! she 
 had refused an offer of marriage from Philip Temple. 
 And this meeting upon the mountain-side, amid the din 
 of the elements, brought back old memories with pecu- 
 liar vividness. And, vaguely, she wondered if he had 
 outlived his disappointment. 
 
 " Yes, let us descend," she said, with a nervous shiver. 
 " There may be showers follow this one, and I should 
 feel safer at the hotel." 
 
 She took his proffered arm, and together they began the 
 descent. Reaching a level place, a short distance below, 
 they paused to take breath. 
 
 The rain was falling heavily still, and it was evident 
 that the storm had not spent itself. Indeed, it seemed 
 to be gathering strength for another and stronger out- 
 burst. 
 
 They were about to proceed over the slippery rocks, 
 when they were blinded by a vivid blaze of lightning, 
 accompanied by a terrible crash. 
 
 Philip Temple caught the form of his companion in 
 time to prevent her from falling down the declivity. For 
 a moment her head dropped upon his shoulders, and her 
 eyes were closed. But they opened quickly, and in time 
 to behold a look upon his face which was not soon for- 
 gotten. At this juncture a third figure appeared upon 
 the scene. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE NEW COMER. 
 
 " Confidence then bore thee on ; secure either to meet no danger or to find 
 .natter of glorious trial." Milton. 
 
 The new comer was Chester Boynton, and he sprang 
 forward with pallid face, at the same time Mrs. Boynton 
 stood erect, summoning all her strength for the effort.
 
 12 ffli: NEW coMES. 
 
 " Thank heaven !" the husband exclaimed, throwing a 
 protecting arm about her tottering figure. 
 
 For a minute they stood mutely gazing at each other. 
 
 A small tree within a dozen paces of where they were 
 standing had been riven by the electric bolt, and it 
 seemed as though their lives had been spared by a special 
 providence. 
 
 Philip Temple was the first to break the silence. 
 
 " That was very close," he exclaimed, in a voice whose 
 calmness Tracy admired even then. And he added, in a 
 solicitous tone: 
 
 " I feared that you had received a shock, Mrs. Boyn- 
 ton. You were dreadfully white and I guess I was 
 too." 
 
 " She is peculiarly sensitive to a fright of this kind," 
 Mr. Boynton gravely replied. His speech and ex- 
 pressions were as unlike the lightness, grace and frank 
 sincerity of Temple's as could be imagined. 
 
 Which was the better man it would be hard to judge, 
 even for a mutual friend. Yet they were in no way 
 alike. 
 
 The spell was broken, and Mrs. Boynton's self-posses- 
 sion returned. Her escape seemed to lend her an in- 
 creased sense of security. 
 
 " I am fated to be scared by lightning " she said, 
 with a faint smile. And then, as though suddenly recol- 
 lecting she added: 
 
 " I beg pardon, Chester. I will present to you an old 
 acquaintance and friend, Mr. Temple my husband, 
 whom you so desired to meet, Philip." 
 
 The gentlemen shook hands. Philip's hand-clasp was 
 warm and friendly; that of Mr. Boynton was more formal. 
 Their glances met also, and what was to prove a fateful 
 acquaintance began. 
 
 The rest of the distance to the house was soon accom- 
 plished, and when they reached their destination the 
 storm had nearly ceased. 
 
 A little later the trio were seated upon the hotel ver-
 
 THE NEW COMEB. 13 
 
 anda, which went entirely around the building. There 
 were other guests there also, but they were gathered 
 in groups, and did not intrude upon each other. 
 
 "A charming place for the summer months, isn't it?" 
 Philip Temple remarked. He sat facing Mrs. Boynton, 
 and trie latter watched the play of light and shadow upon 
 his handsome features with curious interest. 
 
 " Rather pleasant," admitted Boynton, less enthusi- 
 astically. 
 
 " Chester never found any spot upon this earth quite 
 charming," declared Tracy. 
 
 "Is that so?" and Temple laughed, adding: "How 
 queer, when I'm charmed wherever I go ! There's such 
 an abundance of beauty everywhere; and I am perpetu- 
 ally impressed with the novelty of living. There's some- 
 thing new, pleasant or unpleasant, happens every day. 
 I've encountered both to-day, though the unpleasant, 
 coming in a flash of lightning, was rather trancient, I 
 hope the pleasure will be more lasting." 
 
 He glanced toward Tracy as he spoke, and the bright 
 smile which he saw there recalled with vividness the old 
 days when he had lived, as it were, upon Tracy Sher- 
 man's approval. 
 
 " This is a pleasant place enough, to be sure," Boyn- 
 ton admitted, his gaze fixed upon the, rugged face of 
 the mountain. 
 
 " It is quiet, and gives one an opportunity to think. 
 And there are queer people here at the hotel whom I like 
 to study. Yonder comes one of them now a regular 
 budget of eccentricities." 
 
 "And as ugly as a bear, you might add," supplemented 
 the young wife, with a pretty, deprecatory gesture. 
 
 The object of Boynton's remark was coming toward 
 them, from a lonely seat upon the lawn, where he had 
 been dozing under the full glare of the afternoon sun. 
 He was a thin, pale man, with a monstrous black mous- 
 tache and heavy brows that lent his countenance a fierce 
 expression. He had a furtive way of looking at people
 
 14 THE NEW COMEK. 
 
 which was sufficient to make a nervous person afraid 
 of him. He came directly to where they were sitting. 
 and JBoynton presented Philip Temple in a formal way. 
 
 The eccentric man was known simply as Mr. Brock. 
 
 " Cool after the shower eh?" he observed, furtively 
 glancing from the face of Mrs. Boynton to that of the 
 young man. 
 
 " Cool, did you say?" Philip returned, in surprise It 
 had seemed to him decidedly sultry with the glaring sun- 
 shine and humid atmosphere. 
 
 " Yes, cool," Mr. Brock insisted, knitting his heavy 
 brows. 
 
 It seemed to iritate him to have his assertion ques- 
 tioned. 
 
 " Not quite so warm as before," Philip courteously ad- 
 mitted. 
 
 Mr. Brock, he noticed, wore rather heavy clothes, and 
 he had a habit of shrugging his shoulders frequently, as 
 though he was suffering from a chill. 
 
 " I didn't know as it had been too warm," he said, in 
 his quick, impatient manner, adding: "It's curious that 
 everybody complains of the heat the first comfortable day 
 we have in summer. It's curious, too, that so many go 
 to the mountains to keep cool. I go there to keep warm. 
 If the sun would only shine all the time, and there was 
 no shade, I should succeed pretty well. But it's chilly 
 now and damp!" 
 
 The eccentric man fixed his keen eyes upon the face of 
 Mr. Temple as though he expected a contradiction. But 
 none was forthcoming, although Philip could not repress 
 a smile. 
 
 " I suppose you've come to remind me of our accus- 
 tomed stroll, Mr. Brock?" Boynton questioned. 
 
 " Yes, of course," the other hastened to say, adding, 
 " your friend won't mind, I'll warrant. Nor your wife, 
 either. They can spare you and I, better'n not!" 
 
 This observation was suplemented by a low chuckle,
 
 THE NEW COMEB. 15 
 
 which was the nearest approach to a laugh ever indulged 
 by Mr. Brock. 
 
 An indignant flush leaped into the cheeks of Mrs. 
 Boynton, and a sharp retort trembled upon her lips. But 
 the impulse was controled, partly because her resentment, 
 at that moment was transferred from Mr. Brock to her 
 husband. 
 
 "They will excuse us, to be sure," Boynton declared, 
 rising to his feet and crossing the veranda. 
 
 Had he given his wife so much as a passing glance, 
 the intense expression of her face woulcl have detained 
 him. But he did not. He knew that she disliked Brock, 
 and so he thought it rather a kindness to her than otherwise 
 to lead the crotchety individual away, humoring his whim 
 at the same time. 
 
 And so they walked away together, quickly disappear- 
 ing from view. 
 
 Philip Temple, keenly observant, saw the. look upon 
 the young wife's face. He had noticed other expressions 
 also, during the brief time which he had passed with 
 them, which filled his mind with vague, unwelcome con- 
 jectures. 
 
 It seemed to him that Chester Boynton and his young 
 wife were not upon the best of terms with each other. 
 There was certainly a marked contrast in their tempera- 
 ments. Was it possible that Tracy was not quite happy? 
 
 Philip vanished the question the moment it flashed 
 upon his brain. He had no right to ask it, even within 
 himself. All married people have their little differences ; 
 otherwise their existence would be a paradise. Thus he 
 reflected ; and he again ventured to meet the gaze of Mrs. 
 Boynton. 
 
 "I don't see how Chester can endure that man's 
 society ! " she exclaimed, with an involuntary shudder. 
 
 " Enjoys his oddities, I suppose," Philip returned. 
 
 " Partly that." She hesitated, gazing after the retreat- 
 ing figures, and then went on impetuously: 
 
 "He is studying his character, I expect Chester
 
 16 THE SEW COMER. 
 
 studies everybody, and everything. He studies me, and 
 he will study you, and then he will analyze us, as though 
 we were a doubtful drug and he a chemist. That Brock 
 he considers as a type of character. To me he is a snake 
 always cold, ana stealthy, and delighting to sun him- 
 self upon a rock at noonday. I'm afraid of him!" 
 
 Tracy Boynton's tones were very low; but the impet- 
 uousness of her utterance betrayed pentup emotions 
 which she dared not wholly confers. It almost seemed 
 to her companion that she was about to confide her dis- 
 appointment to him if she were disappointed. He 
 experienced in that moment a wild wish that she would 
 do so. It would be so pleasant to repay her confidence 
 with chivalrous advice. For he would act a chivalrous 
 part, and if aught were causing husband and wife to drift 
 asunder, he would exercise all his influence to bring them 
 together again. It did not even occur to Philip Temple 
 that for him to act as a mediator between these two were 
 perilous to them all. 
 
 " Your husband seems like a thoughtful man," Philip 
 observed, after an embarrassing period of silence. 
 
 "He thinks too much upon great things," was the 
 quick reply. 
 
 Tracy laughed nervously and added: 
 
 " Oh, he is a great way above me in thought and aspi- 
 ration. It is a wonder that he can care for me and yet 
 he does ! " 
 
 This last was added, as though to counteract any con- 
 trary impression which her words might have made. 
 
 " It can't be that he looks down upon you?" Philip 
 questioned, with an indignant flash. 
 
 The laughing response to his earnestness brought a 
 flush of embarrassment to his cheeks. 
 
 "Oh, no. We look up to each other! " was the reply. 
 
 From that their conversation drifted into lighter chan- 
 nels. Tracy could not help but realize that they had a 
 great deal in common to talk about. She was surprised, 
 and pleased, to find that he was cultivating an artistic
 
 HIS ECCENTRIC FRIEND. 17 
 
 taste. She was doing the same. They entered upon a 
 discussion of the modern landscape painters. Philip had 
 met Thomas Hill, whose interpretations of wild western 
 and mountain scenery are so famous. 
 
 " He is an eccentric but genial, whole-souled fellow," 
 the young man declared, in a glow of enthusiasm. " I 
 have his photograph over at the cottage. Didn't I tell 
 you? I'm stopping with a rugged young farmer over 
 yonder not more than a mile, I think. And this re? 
 minds me they'll be waiting supper for me." 
 
 Philip sprang to his feet, glancing at his watch. Two 
 hours had passed; the sun had disappeared behind the 
 trees; a silvery crescent was brightening through the 
 somber purple of the western sky. 
 
 They were alone upon the veranda; they had not no- 
 ticed that the other guests had entered the house. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 HIS ECCENTRIC FRIEND. 
 
 " Yes, it is haunted, this quiet scene, 
 Fair as it looks, and all softly green. 
 
 Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 Mrs. Boynton rose also, a little startled to find that 
 they were entirely alone. 
 
 "They must have all stolen away upon tip-toe, or we 
 should have heard them," she said, with a light laugh. 
 
 She glanced upward toward the towering face of the 
 mountain, with its alternating patches of light and 
 shadow. Then her gaze was turned upon the path which 
 her husband and his strange companion had taken. 
 
 "Mr. Boynton must find the society of his eccentric 
 friend extremely fascinating," Temple remarked, noting 
 the slight shadow of displeasure which had suddenly 
 fallen upon her face. 
 
 " I wish he would return," she replied,
 
 18 HIS ECCENTRIC FRIEND. 
 
 " Are they accustomed to indulging in such protracted 
 strolls?" 
 
 " They have been away together several times. They 
 have never remained so long as this, however. It is 
 very strange that Chester can tind the society of that 
 cold, snaky Mr. Brock so agreeable. 1 wish he would 
 go away. I feel a premonition sometimes that he is to 
 prove my evil genious. He gives me the shivers every 
 time I look at him. Indeed, I can tell when he is near, 
 although I do not see him he taints the very air! " 
 
 Philip moved toward the steps leading to the path. 
 At the rail he paused and looked back. 
 
 " Good night," he said. 
 
 Tracy advanced quickly and gave him her hand. 
 
 "It is n't good by?" she questioned. 
 
 "I hope not. I may remain at the cottage for a 
 month perhaps not so long. I shall see you often while 
 I stay. I hope to grow better acquainted with Mr. 
 Boynton. But he studies everybody so closely, according 
 to you, that I shall be a trifle afraid of him." 
 
 " He won't harm you he will like you, I know," she 
 replied, somewhat eagerly, as though she were voicing a 
 wish rather than a prediction. 
 
 " We shall become fast friends, without doubt." In 
 the interval of silence that ensued a whippoorwill, which 
 had alighted upon a rock close by, burst forth in its clear, 
 prophetic song. 
 
 The weird melody added to the witchery of the hour 
 and scene, and Philip Temple lingered, listening, absorbed 
 in a sense of dreamy contentment, forgetful alike of pres- 
 ent and future. 
 
 The cessation of the song broke the spell. 
 
 " It is growing cool and damp," he quickly exclaimed, 
 in sudden solicitude, for his companion shivered at the 
 moment. 
 
 " I have been thoughtless in keeping you here so long. 
 I'll not detain you another moment." 
 
 He ran down the steps and hastened briskly away. At
 
 HIS ECCENTRIC FKIEND. 19 
 
 a turn of the path he glanced backward. The moon was 
 obscured for the moment by a small cloud, and the hotel 
 looked like a" huge, shapeless monster in the gloom. It 
 seemed to him that Tracy Boynton was standing where 
 he had left her. 
 
 "Was she looking after him ? No, it was more likely 
 that she was looking for the return of her husband. 
 
 Philip Temple faced resolutely about and walked rap- 
 idly along the lonely path, striving to break the spell 
 which was upon him by* whistling a hornpipe. 
 
 The path led in a zigzag course along the lower slopes 
 of the mountain's base. There were trees upon either 
 side ; there were also occasional rocks, hugh and rugged. 
 Beyond one of these Philip caught the glimmer of a 
 light, and instantly he halted, surprised and wondering at 
 the discovery. 
 
 The light twinkled through the swaying twigs of a 
 clump or small birches which grew close to the rock. 
 
 Philip hesitated a moment, and then started toward 
 the light. The way was rough, and almost impassable 
 with dense undergrowth and wild clamatis. There were 
 raspberry briers growing thickly from rocky clefts, and 
 these clung tenaciously to the young man's garments. 
 Still the light, and his own curiosity, beckoned him on, 
 and he pushed forward persistently. He succeeded in 
 getting through the thickest of the shrubbery, and looked 
 again for the light. 
 
 But it had disappeared. 
 
 "A queer go, any how!" he impatiently exclaimed, irri- 
 tated to find that his persistence had been in vain. 
 
 He halted and glanced about him. It was a lovely 
 scene. There were trees, rocks and undergrowth upon 
 every side. In the gloom every object appeared vague in 
 outline, unreal in substance. 
 
 "Halloa!" he shouted or rather uttered, for the call 
 could not have been heard a dozen rods away. 
 
 There was no response, a soft breeze rustled the shrub- 
 bery in a stealthy way. The distant cry of a whippoor-
 
 20 HIS ECCENTRIC FRIEND. 
 
 will came to his ears, and he wondered if it was the same 
 to which he and Mrs. Boynton had listened a short time 
 before. 
 
 "Bah! why do I loiter here?" he muttered, interrupt- 
 ing his own fancies. 
 
 He hastened to work his way back to the path. When 
 he had reached the latter he glanced back, and with a 
 thrill, saw again that twinkling light which he had at- 
 tempted to reach ! 
 
 It was in the same spot as when it first caught his eye. 
 It seemed as though he had to pass through the interven- 
 ing bushes and shrubbery to reach it. 
 
 " I believed this spot is bewitched !" he exclaimed. For 
 an instant his nerves thrilled with the conviction that he 
 had chanced upon one of those weird occurrences of 
 which superstitious humanity is forever citing instances, 
 while they pretend a disbelief in the supernatural. 
 
 Philip Temple hesitated between the impulse to inves- 
 tigate the curious incident, and the wish to reach his des- 
 tination. 
 
 " Some one is encamping upon the mountain-side, and 
 is out with a lantern," ne said to himself. Still the light 
 twinkled before his vision in a tantalizing way, and half 
 against his inclination he found himself once more push- 
 ing his way through the bushes and vines. He reached 
 the opening, and again looked for the light. With the 
 same result as before! tor it had disappeared. Then he 
 began a careful exploration of the vicinity. He peered 
 through thickets, behind rocks. He stepped into unseen 
 pitfalls, and at last fell upon rocks and was nearly stun- 
 ned. 
 
 Regaining iris feet, he returned to the path warm, ex- 
 cited, half-angry with himself, and the tantilizing mys- 
 tery. And there, to add to his irritation he saw again 
 that twinkling light, in the same spot, and as bright as at 
 first. 
 
 " I think my brain is a little out of trim," he declared,
 
 HIS EOOEKTfclO FRIEND. 21 
 
 impatiently turning his back upon the glimmering mys- 
 tery. 
 
 He quickly left the spot behind, and five minutes later 
 came in sight of a light which did not vanish nor retreat 
 as he approached. 
 
 The cottage was small, plain, yet picturesque, sur- 
 rounded as it was by the rugged scenery of the mountain. 
 
 In the doorway a short, stout man was standing, smok- 
 ing a pipe. He stepped outside to make way for his 
 guest as the latter came up. 
 
 " Guess you've lost your supper, Mr. Temple," said 
 the young farmer, taking the pipe from his lips and hold- 
 ing it in a half deferential way. 
 
 "Have I? I'm glad of it, on the whole I wasn't 
 hungry," Temple returned. 
 
 "I guess Jenny '11 fix up somethin' for you, if you'll 
 go in. We waited a spell, and then I told her we might 
 as well eat, 'cause you'd come when you got ready. And 
 so we had our supper." The man drew two or three 
 whiffs at his pipe, and then asked: 
 
 " Get ketched in the shower, did ye?" 
 
 " Yes but I was under a rock through the worst of it, 
 and didn't get very wet," Philip explained. 
 
 There was a brief interval of silence. Philip Temple 
 was haunted by the mysterious occurrence which he had 
 so fruitlessly tried to investigate. " I'd like to ask you a 
 question, Mr. "Webb," he abruptly declared. 
 
 The young farmer looked curiously at the speaker from 
 under his brows, again holding his pipe betwixt his fin- 
 gers. 
 
 "What about?" he questioned. 
 
 "Another singular adventure which I had to-night. I 
 came from the summer hotel about a mile from here. 
 There's a path all the way and there are plenty of rocks 
 and bushes." 
 
 " I've been over the path times enough to know all 
 'bout it," Webb interpolated as the other paused. 
 
 Philip went on to detail his adventure. The young
 
 22 TELL ME ! SHE CSIED. 
 
 farmer listened without comment, puffing vigorously at 
 his pipe the while. 
 
 "What do you think of it?" Temple asked, curiously 
 impressed by the other's silence. 
 
 "Just what I expected I've seen it myself! " returned 
 Webb, shrugging nis broad sholders. His tone was a 
 trifle awed, and he went on smoking, as though to dispel 
 the haunting memory of a weird experience. 
 
 CHAPTER IY. 
 
 TELL ME! SHE CRIED. 
 
 "More strange than true. I never may believe 
 These antic fables nor these fairy toys." 
 
 Midsummer Night's Dream. 
 
 Philip Temple was not deceived in the impression 
 that Mrs. Boynton lingered upon the hotel veranda after 
 he had gone. 
 
 She leaned upon the railing and watched him out of 
 sight. Nor did she go in when he had disappeared, al- 
 though the air had grown decidedly chilly, and she wore 
 no wrap. 
 
 Her reflections became retrospective, and she thought 
 of Philip Temple as she had known him five years before". 
 He had changed but little. She remembered that at the 
 time of her rejection of his suit he had accepted her 
 decision as conditional only. 
 
 '" I think I have spoken too hastily," he had said, in a 
 kindly way which had done more to increase her regard 
 for him than all his attentions before. 
 
 " Unless your love is bestowed elsewhere," he went on, 
 "it is not necessary that a final answer be given now. 
 There is time enough, and I can wait. We will continue 
 as friends ; and if it ever comes to pass that your life 
 seems incomplete unlinked with mine, then your present 
 answer will be the same as unspoken. I have your hap-
 
 TELL ME ! SHE CEIED. 23 
 
 piness at heart, Tracy, even more than m j own, although 
 to give you up wholly would be the deepest disappoint- 
 ment I can ever know !" 
 
 Those were Philip Temple's words, and they made a 
 strong impression on Tracy Sherman's mind. In a vague 
 sort of way she had looked forward to a time when, in 
 his words, "her life would seem incomplete unlinked 
 with his." But soon after they were separated; and em- 
 bryo love is too often killed by the frosts of separation. 
 During the next two years a fatality, or chance, kept 
 them apart. Tracy went abroad with her parents; and 
 as travelers meet in foreign lands, she met Chester Boyn- 
 ton. They became companions, friends, were engaged, 
 and were married before returning to American shores. 
 
 Leaning over the rail of the hotel veranda, with the in- 
 fluence of Philip Temple's presence fresh upon her, Mrs. 
 Boynton was impressed for the first time with a convic- 
 tion that her marriage without a formal renunciation of 
 Philip's regards had not been quite fair toward him. It 
 almost seemed as though she owed him a plea for pardon 
 even now and yet, she realized the impropriety of offer- 
 ing one. Even an allusion to their former relations were 
 wrong perilous. 
 
 She looked out upon the patches of light and shadow 
 with a sudden sense of possible danger. Of what had 
 she been thinking? Had she unconsciously compared 
 the mental characteristics of her husband with those of 
 Philip Temple? And had the former suffered by the 
 comparison ? 
 
 A step sounded upon the veranda, and Mrs. Boynton 
 started, uttered a low cry. She saw a tall figure advanc- 
 ing toward her, and she trembled as with sudden fright. 
 
 " You will take cold here, Tracy. Go in at once," said 
 Chester Boynton as he confronted her. His tone was 
 stern, his command almost arbitrary. 
 
 At the same time, as she looked up into his face, she 
 was struck by its expression. She had never seen him 
 look like that before. He was pale; his lips were drawn;
 
 24 TELL ME ! SHE 
 
 a new light blazed in his eyes. She could perceive all 
 this even in the semi-gloom, and she was impressed with 
 nameless apprehension* 
 
 "What has happened,, Chester?" she breathlessly- 
 exclaimed, laying a hand upon his arm. 
 
 " Nothing why do you ask? " he returned. 
 
 In his effort to suppress the evidence of his agitation 
 his voice sounded husky. The vague alarm of his wife 
 was intensified. 
 
 " Tell me ! " she cried. And then, as though the utter- 
 ance of the name was repulsiv^ to her, she added : 
 
 "When did you come back? And where is is 
 Brock?" 
 
 "He returned before sunset; I have but just come," 
 was the hasty reply. 
 
 " Have you been to supper?" he added, impatiently. 
 
 "Why don't you tell me? and has Mr. Temple gone?" 
 
 " He went a few minutes ago. We waited for you, 
 Chester. I began to be alarmed at your absence," she 
 explained. 
 
 " You need never have fears for me because I am out 
 of your sight for an hour or two. I suppose you were 
 afraid Mr. Brock had eaten me alive. I tell you, Tracy, 
 you would not dispise that man if you knew him. He 
 is a wonderful man. He has been the victim of great 
 misfortunes; yet, in spite of his cold exterior, he has a 
 warm heart." 
 
 The young wife cast a hasty glance out among the 
 shadows ; a shiver convulsed her form. 
 
 " I dare say yours is a true estimate of him, Chester," 
 she said. " Yet to me his face, his motions, his voice, 
 every word he utters is strongly, painfully repellant. He 
 seems to me like a serpent. And I fear that you will 
 fall under the spell of his fatal fascinations ! " 
 
 " Nonsense, Tracy! " 
 
 The impatience of Mr. Boynton's tone amounted 
 almost to anger. 
 
 " You must not yield to such silly fancies," he con-
 
 TELL ME ! SHE GREED. 25 
 
 tinned. "Yon do him injustice; you doubt my judg- 
 ment; you indulge a romantic folly. Ours is real life, 
 not romance. We shall be happy and unhappy, like 
 other people. But it is not in the power of any 'human 
 serpent ' to cast an evil spell upon us. These are not the 
 days of witchcraft, and you must not allow such ideas to 
 gain possession of your mind. It isn't sensible. They 
 will d!o you harm." 
 
 Boynton, while speaking, had led her into the house. 
 Under the gaslight the appearance of his agitation was 
 not so marked else it had subsided. They ate supper 
 together in silence. Then he went to regale himself with 
 a cigar, leaving Tracy with the other ladies u pon the 
 front veranda. Here all was life and brightness. The 
 flickering lights, the hum of voices, in a measure dis- 
 pelled the sense of depression which had possessed the 
 mind of Mrs. Boynton. From within floated the notes 
 of a lively air which someone was evoking from the rich- 
 toned piano. 
 
 Tracy, standing a little apart, felt two soft, warm 
 hands upon her cheeks, and a silvery, half-childish voice 
 sounded in her ears. 
 
 " I've found yon now, and I'll keep you, too," said the 
 voice. 
 
 " You shall keep me until bedtime, Lou I'll promise 
 not to run away from you," Tracy returned, a ring of 
 unfeigned pleasure in her tones. 
 
 And she impulsively kissed the pretty, dimpled cheeks 
 so near her own. 
 
 For Lou Wentworth, with her blue, laughing eyes, 
 her innocent, vivacious ways, was the only guest at the 
 hotel for whose exclusive companionship the young wife 
 of Chester Boynton really cared. 
 
 The emanations of joyousness which seemed ever to 
 surround this petite being was to Tracy a sort of anti- 
 dote for the noisome, chilling presence of Mr. Brock. 
 
 " I was afraid that handsome stranger had carried you
 
 26 TELL ME ! SHE CRIED. 
 
 away from us," exclaimed the girl, linking her arm with- 
 in that of her companion. 
 
 " So you were watching us, you sly rogue ? " Mrs. 
 Boynton questioned. She began to experience a strange 
 elation of spirits, in marked contrast with the recent 
 vague forebodings which she had entertained. 
 
 " I watched him not you," Miss "Wentworth replied, 
 as they paused in their walk at a point remote from the 
 other guests. 
 
 " He is a handsome fellow, isn't he ? Almost as princely 
 looking as my as Roy Blanchard! " 
 
 Even the shadow in which they were standing did not 
 hide the deepening pink upon the shy face of the speaker. 
 
 " Your Roy, Lou? Has he really " 
 
 Lou's soft hand stopped Tracy's utterances just there. 
 
 " Not yet it isn't sure! " the girl returned, in a quick, 
 breathless way. Her bright face had taken on a serious, 
 even anxious expression, and she looked straight into the 
 eyes of her companion, as she went on: 
 
 ""We were together a long while to-day, and he was as 
 kind as as I could wish. But we're not engaged. He 
 has said nothing about that; nothing direct and plain, I 
 mean. And to-night he is with Alma Buston, I think. 
 So I feel sure and happy one moment, and in doubt and 
 misery the next !" The girl's soft tones faltered; tears 
 dimmed the azure of her eyes. 
 
 " My darling! it is cruel for you to be in such painful 
 doubt," Mrs. Boynton returned, tenderly kissing the face 
 which but a moment before was dimpled with smiles. 
 
 " If there was only some way to find out so that all 
 your doubts might be dispelled," Tracy went on, her wo- 
 man's heart full of sympaty for the gentle, loving being 
 by her side. 
 
 " If I only could," Lou echoed. " If you were only a 
 sorceress, and could read my destiny in a tea-cup, or in 
 the lines of my hand. Do you really believe there is 
 anything in fortune-telling, Mrs. Boynton? Do you be-
 
 TELL ME! SHE CE1ED. 27 
 
 lieve all the stories of divination coming true, which we 
 bear, are false? Aren't they ever true? 
 
 The blue eyes were opened wide with earnestness as 
 she eagerly asked these questions, upon which many a 
 maiden in love ponders in vain. 
 
 " They may come true sometimes by chance," was the 
 slow response. 
 
 " I suppose it is all very silly. And yet I would like 
 to try just one thing, just for sport. No one but you is 
 to know of it. And no harm will be done only a little 
 fun. Will you?" 
 
 The childish eagerness of the girl caused Mrs. Boynton 
 to laugh softly. 
 
 " What do you wish me to do ? Turn astrologer and 
 read your horoscope ? " she asked. 
 
 " No something easier than that. That has to be done 
 at the moment of one's birth, I believe, so it is too late to 
 foretell my history in that way." 
 
 She spoke with unrelaxed seriousness. There was an 
 interval of silence, in which the twain gazed forth upon 
 the moonlit landscape, with the lengthening shadows 
 creeping up the valley. 
 
 " There is a magic spring yonder, just beyond that big 
 rock which looks like a crouching elephant," Lou de- 
 clared, lowering her voice to a whisper, and indicating the 
 spot with one outstretched hand. 
 
 " I have heard it spoken of," replied her companion, 
 adding with a smile: 
 
 " And you wish to go thither and try your fate by 
 bending over the spring to drink, in the hope of seeing 
 the face of Roy Blanchard mirrored there, as though he 
 were looking over your shoulder! you silly, loving child!" 
 
 " What will be the harm ? There is no danger, it is so 
 near the house. And beside, you will be near me, only 
 you must stand upon this side of the rock. Of course I 
 shall see nothing only my own face, and that will look so 
 foolish that 1 shall never wish to try my fate in that way
 
 &8 TELL ME! SHE CRIED. 
 
 again. "Will you go with, me? now, before the moon goes 
 
 J Oil " & 
 
 down?" 
 
 " Yes, I'll humor you. It is a. simpler spell than that 
 which was required to conjure the White Lady of Avenel 
 before the vision of Halbert Glendinning, in Scott's novel 
 of 'The Monestery.' Come, before we are observed." 
 
 They descended the steps nearest them, and hastened 
 toward the rock which Lou had designated. 
 
 The distance was so short that, when they stood beside 
 the huge rock, they could hear the voices and piano at the 
 hotel. 
 
 Yet Lou clung to the hand of her companion, pale and 
 trembling. 
 
 " I'm afraid to try it, now," she exclaimed, in a whis- 
 per. 
 
 " I expected you would be," Tracy returned. Although 
 naturally romantic and imaginative herself, Mrs. Boynton 
 was not prone to indulge groundless fears. 
 
 " I wish you would try first, Mrs. Boynton," said her 
 companion. 
 
 " I ? You forget that I have a husband already." 
 
 "That doesn't matter it's only a foolish trick, you 
 know, and it would be nice if you should see the face of 
 Mr. Boynton mirrored in the spring. Do try, and then 
 1 won't be afraid. I will stand here, where I can almost 
 see you." 
 
 Tracy hesitated only in her reluctance to indulge in 
 such folly. At twenty-four, and with a husband, it all 
 seemed very ridiculous. Yet she could not resist the 
 earnest, childish pleading of her young friend. 
 
 " I will drink from the spring to please you. But if 
 Chester were really there to look over my shoulder he 
 would scold me roundly, He despises such folly." 
 
 She unclasped the clinging lingers of Lou, and went 
 boldly around the rock. 
 
 The girl stood, breathless, half -expectant. The experi- 
 ment seemed fraught with fateful significance to her 
 impressionable nature.
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS LIGHT. 29 
 
 Half-credulous though she was, however, she was 
 thrilled with fear when Tracy Boynton darted around the 
 rock with a low, horrified cry, and sank at her feet in a 
 swoon! 
 
 CHAPTEK Y. 
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS LIGHT. 
 
 " 'Tis night when meditation bids us feel 
 We once have loved, though love is at an end." 
 
 Chllde Harold. 
 
 " You've seen the light, as I've described, did you 
 say ? " Philip Temple asked, as the young farmer smoked 
 on in silence. 
 
 "Yes. Two or three times. Tother night was the 
 last." 
 
 Jason Webb proceeded to knock the ashes from his 
 pipe, and then thrust the latter into the pocket of his 
 blouse. 
 
 He then slowly faced his guest, and Temple perceived 
 that his countehance wore a look of irritation. 
 
 " I hate a mystery woi se'n pizen ! " he exclaimed, with 
 a vehement shake of the head. 
 
 " So you count that light which I saw to-night as a 
 mystery, do you ? " Temple questioned, his interest grow- 
 ing keen. 
 
 " Course it is. Anything that nobody can explain is 
 mysterious, isn't it ? And what's mysterious is a mys- 
 tery, according to my reckoning. You tried to solve it 
 it to-night, didn't you ? " 
 
 " I made a slight effort, yes. But being unaccustomed 
 to the lay of the land I found I was in danger of breaking 
 my neck, and so gave it up. I dare say I would have 
 solved the puzzle if I'd persisted." 
 
 " Mebbe you would I won't say. But you didn't 
 persist quite long enough, same as I didn't, and same as 
 more'n a dozen smart chaps hasn't. Some of 'em smart 
 as you or I, Mr, Temple,"
 
 30 THE MYSTERIOUS LIGHT. 
 
 "Webb's good-natured laugh took the possible sting 
 from his sarcasm. It was plain that he was a clear- 
 headed fellow with plenty of practical common-sense. 
 Nor was he likely to become .frightened at his own 
 shadow. 
 
 " So I've struck upon one of the numerous ghost-epi- 
 sodes which are floating about in all rural districts," said 
 Temple, half-musingly. 
 
 " Call it what you're mind ter, it's curi's, and has puz- 
 zled a good many people." 
 
 " When was the phenomenon first noticed ? " Philip 
 asked. 
 
 " Most two years ago. Jenney, my wife, seen it first, 
 as she was comin' home from Jim .Rice's one dark evenin'. 
 Jim lives a mile or so below here, and there's a path 
 branches ofPn this one leading straight there. Jenny 
 seen the light, and s'posed 'twas me come to meet her 
 with a lantern. She spoke my name, and not getting 
 any answer, took a notion to investigate. She's a spunky 
 woman, if I do say it, and not scare't at her own shadow. 
 But when the light vanished and then appeared ag'in, 
 as you seen it to-night, she run home lively." 
 
 "And did you go back to solve the mystery that 
 night ? " Philip pursued, strangely interested in the 
 simple, yet vivid narrative of Jason "Webb. 
 
 " No. I thought like 'nough somebody did it for a 
 trick to frighten her. 
 
 " And who saw the mysterious light next ? " 
 
 " Jim Rice and he stands to it that somebody smashed 
 his lantern for him when he tried to investigate. But I 
 guess he got scare't and broke it agin' a tree. Anyhow, 
 the lantern was broke to flinders, for I see it the next 
 morning." 
 
 "And were you the next one to encounter the puzzle?" 
 
 " Yes. But I didn't have no lantern, and you know 
 it's a pokerish place to get 'round in in the dark. I was 
 served 'bout the same way as you was to-night.
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS LIGHT. 31 
 
 " I suppose you have examined the spot in the day 
 time?" 
 
 " Two or three times." 
 
 "And with what result?" 
 
 " Didn't find anything. Always so, you know, the 
 same as 'tis when you explore a haunted house in day 
 time. Nothing ever happens that isn't natural as can be 
 by daylight, and the very devil will be to pay after sun- 
 down. I've poked into such things considerable at one 
 time and another. Good many folks get scare't at what 
 could be explained easy enough if they kept cool. Still 
 things do happen that nobody finds out what causes 'em, 
 though nobody ever believes it till they've seen the mani- 
 festations themselves." 
 
 " I suppose you have seen enough to convince you that 
 there are really ghosts and haunted houses?" 
 
 Jason Webb laughed and shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "No, I don't believe in 'em," he declared, decisively. 
 
 "And yet," he added, " I know that there's things that 
 I can't see through, and that you can't, and that nobody 
 can till they try science on the surface of things, and stop 
 digging so deep after mysteries. People' dig half through 
 the earth to find what lays right under the surface, so to 
 speak. It's always been the way. If I knew as much 
 about science as you educated fellows do, I would go up 
 and solve that mystery within twenty -four hours." 
 
 It was Philip's turn to laugh and yet he perceived 
 the germs of good sense in the young farmer's homely 
 remark. 
 
 " I see you are determined to lay the task of solving this 
 weird mystery upon my shoulders, and when I fail, as I 
 probably shall, you'll laugh at me," said Philip. 
 
 " I guess you won't fail if you really try. But you 
 wont' try. You had rather laugh at the whole affair; 
 call it a freak of your imagination or something of that 
 sort," "Webb seriously returned. 
 
 " It was not my imagination, I'm sure of that." Tem- 
 ple said this decisively, knitting his brows.
 
 32 THE MYSTEBIOTJ8 LIGHT. 
 
 Webb made no response, and the guest fell into a 
 revery. The moon had disappeared beyond the trees, 
 and only the column of light shining forth from the 
 open doorway of the cottage relieved the darkness 
 outside. Even this was presently darkened by a shadow 
 human in contour. Turning, Temple saw that Jenny, 
 the pretty wife of the young farmer, had come out upon 
 the step. 
 
 " I knew you had come, Mr. Temple," she said, in a 
 voice which was remarkably sweet and mellow. "I 
 heard you talking with Jason, and have improved the 
 time to make seme fresh toast for you. Please don't let 
 it get cold." 
 
 "You're very kind more so than I deserve, Mrs. 
 Webb." 
 
 The unaffected friendliness of this couple strongly 
 impressed the young man, who was accustomed to the 
 inhospitableness of city boarding places. And he went 
 in and did justice to the young housewife's cookery, 
 although it had not occurred to him before that he was 
 hungry. A little later he retired to his room, which was 
 the neatest and most airy the cottage contained. Seating 
 himself by an open window, he lit a cigar, and sent blue 
 rings of fragrant smoke floating upward to the ceiling 
 
 He lookea out of the window upon the somber land- 
 scape. He wondered if the summer hotel, where the 
 Boyntons were stopping, was located in the hollow 
 beyond the tall, blasted pine which he could see outlined 
 against the gray sky. He pictured to himself the face 
 and form of Tracy Boynton as she had appeared leaning 
 over the railing, as he had left her. He recalled the 
 touch of her hand, the half-eager tone of voice as she 
 had said, "It is n't good by?" as he was about to go. 
 
 " Can she have forgotten what I said to her five years 
 ago?" he asked himself. The question brought back the 
 old pain, which had harassed him so long and hopelessly 
 in the months and years which were past. 
 
 " She cannot have forgotten," he went on, uttering the
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS LIGHT. 33 
 
 words half -aloud, and bending toward the window until 
 the cool, damp air swept his brow. " Women never for- 
 get such things, I believe. I had thought that she would 
 yet alter her decision in the course of time. I even fancied 
 that the transformation had begun before we parted, and 
 I believe so yet, and it was by a perverse freak of 
 fate that we were separated. Why was it so? Was- it 
 better for her? or for me? What does she think of it 
 now? I dare not think of it I must not! She has 
 made her choice, and no doubt it is a good one for him !" 
 
 Philip Temple flung away his cigar and walked im- 
 petuously across the room. 
 
 Returning he paused before the window, his lips com- 
 pressed, his face startlingly pale. 
 
 But the sudden burst of passion, the sweep of painful 
 memories, of unanswered hopes, quickly passed. 
 
 "This will not do," he exclaimed, resolutely. His 
 manner grew calm under control, and he added, with a 
 smile: "The ordeal of a first meeting after our long sep- 
 aration, and the intervening changes, could not have 
 failed to be a painful one to me, and embarrassing to 
 her. The renewal of our friendships under the new con- 
 ditions will do more than aught else to cure me of what 
 is now but folly. She shall realize now, if never before, 
 that I possess manhood and the power of self-control. 
 If it were otherwise I should lose her respect. I have a 
 right to her friendly regard, and I will retain it, for it is 
 too sweet a possession to forfeit!" 
 
 Philip smoked another cigar, scanned the newspaper 
 which he found upon his table awaiting perusal, and 
 then went to bed. 
 
 He did not lie awake; he was too physically weary for 
 that. But his dreams abounded in vagaries. He pur- 
 f ued illusive lights, falling over rocks and finding him- 
 self again and again upon the brink of dark abysses. 
 Once he found himself bending over a spring of water 
 and saw the face of Tracy Boynton reflected in its limpid 
 depths. In a thrill of ecstacy he bent to kiss the mir- 
 3
 
 34 ABE YOU ILL, TRACY? 
 
 rored face ; but the contact of his own with the cool 
 water awakened him with a start. His face was really 
 cold and wet. It was raining outside, and a strong wind 
 sent the drops in through the o^en window upon the bed, 
 and his upturned face. 
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 
 AEE YOU ILL, TRACY? 
 
 "Let sage or cynic prattle as he will, 
 
 These hours, and only these, redeem life's years of ill." 
 
 Childe Harold. 
 
 Lou "Wentworth, in an agony of terror and distress, 
 bent over the unconscious figure of her companion. At 
 the same time she heard a footstep, and turning with 
 added fear, saw Chester Boynton coming toward them. 
 
 " What is the meaning of this? Whathas happened?" 
 he demanded sternly, bending over his wife. It might 
 have been his voice, or the dash of cool drops from the 
 overhanging foliage which was swayed by a passing 
 breeze, that recalled her to consciousness, for her eyes 
 opened at the instant, and she looked shrinkingly up into 
 his face. 
 
 "With his help she rose to a sitting posture, and leaned 
 against him as he crouched at her side. 
 
 "Are you ill, Tracy? Or frightened?" he questioned, 
 more gently than before. 
 
 " Both, I think," she answered with a shiver. She 
 ent an appealing glance toward Lou as she spoke a 
 glance that said plainly: "I will explain to him; you 
 need not." 
 
 Aloud she added : 
 
 " I did not quite swoon. But I was too weak and 
 faint to stand, or speak. I never felt like that before." 
 
 Lou turned reluctantly away, her own heart still flut- 
 tering with excitement. 
 
 "What or whom did she see at the Magic Spring?" 
 the girl asked herself as she hurried through the wet
 
 ABE YOU ILL, TRACY? 35 
 
 grass toward the house. In her preoccupation she did 
 not see the person coming toward her. They did not 
 see each other, in fact, until there was a mild collision. 
 
 " Oh ! " she screamed, starting hack. Then she recog- 
 nized the smiling, handsome face of Roy Blanchard, and 
 her terror was changed into shy delight. 
 
 " Why don't you run away, as you started to do? " he 
 questioned, witn an assumption of gravity. 
 
 " I will, if you wish it! " and she turned to flee. But 
 he caught her in a firm, yet gentle grasp. 
 
 " Please don't, unless you wish," he implored. He 
 drew her hand within his arm, and led her past the house, 
 and out upon the zigzag road. " I have been looking for 
 you," he went on, his tones falling like richest melody 
 upon her ears. 
 
 " Looking for me for how long? " she asked. 
 
 "All the evening; but you have managed to keep out 
 of my sight until this moment, and you would have run 
 away from me now." 
 
 She sent a quick resentful glance up into his face. 
 
 " Is it rude to dispute such a remark as yours ? " she 
 flashed back. 
 
 " Yes, very rude, for it is the truth," he returned in an 
 earnest tone. Was it real? She could not see his face 
 distinctly enough to be certain whether he were smiling 
 or grave. 
 
 " It requiredtwo of you to search for me," she said, her 
 voice very low, to hide its unsteadiness perhaps. 
 
 " Yes, Alma Burton kindly volunteered to aid me in 
 my quest. She fancied that you and Mrs. Boynton had 
 strayed away together. Do you know, I sometimes fancy 
 that you prefer the society of that lady to mine? " 
 
 Lou "Wentworth perceived that he was indulging his 
 old penchant for tantilizing, and was quickly on her 
 guard. 
 
 " For once your fancy impressed you aright," she de- 
 murely said.
 
 "Really, Lou?" There was more earnestness in his 
 tones then than he had before evinced. 
 
 "We are both serious, aren't we? I certainly thought 
 we were," she returned. 
 
 They walked on in silence, and presently came to the 
 bridge in the hollow over the deep, narrow stream, which 
 swept silently through the valley. They paused here, 
 and leaned over the rail to look at the black, eddying cur- 
 rent. Its stealthy murmur as it fretted the shelving 
 banks came up to them out of the silence and gloom. 
 
 " What a romantic place for committing suicide," Roy 
 gravely observed. 
 
 " It would be a good place for you to try it. I know of 
 no better it is especially suited to the sort of frenzy 
 which would actuate the attempt in one of your temper- 
 ament." 
 
 He looked at her keenly, but it was too dark to see 
 more than the soft outlines of her face. The white wrap 
 which she wore was pinned close at her throat. 
 
 " Why is this so especially suited for me? " he asked, 
 with more eagerness than the lightness of the badinage 
 seemed to warrant. 
 
 " Because the current is so strong at this point that you 
 could not sink ; and a few yards below the stream widens, 
 and is scarce a foot in depth, it is said. So you wouldn't 
 drown, and the coldness of the water would subdue your 
 frenzy." 
 
 He laughed musically, admiring her more than ever 
 before. Perhaps, until now, he had supposed 'her to be 
 more loving than clever. 
 
 " I might hang a mill-stone to my neck before jump- 
 ing in," he suggested. 
 
 " You may do that without intending to drown your- 
 self. A great many do," she returned. 
 
 " It is unfair to make a figurative retort to a literal 
 proposal." 
 
 " It is as fair as for one to expect a literal answer to a 
 figurative proposal isn't it? I may be wrong."
 
 ABE YOU ILL, TRACY? 37 
 
 " Yes, you are wrong. Besides, I have not indulged 
 in metaphor. I am in a serious mood to-night, more se- 
 rious than you dream." 
 
 " I'm sorry for you, then." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because the opposite is the case with me." 
 
 " Then, if I should make a serious, solemn proposal of 
 any sort one affecting your happiness and mine for a 
 lifetime, how should you answer me?" Again his tone 
 was eager. 
 
 " I wouldn't do that if I were you," she replied. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Because I should make a figurative response." 
 
 " If it were an assent I should accept it even in that 
 guise." 
 
 " It would not be an assent." 
 
 "You are unmerciful!" he exclaimed, with assumed 
 bitterness. 
 
 " I show more mercy than you comprehend. I am 
 wiser than you concerning the aims of your life, and in 
 withholding the consummation of your hopes I should be 
 exercising the highest quality of mercy." 
 
 " Toward you or me, do you mean? " 
 
 " Both." 
 
 He was silent a moment. He reached upward and 
 plucked a handful of leaves from an overhanging beech 
 and cast them upon the swift moving stream. 
 
 " You do not yet know that I entertain hopes which 
 you have the power of blighting," he said at length. 
 
 " I doubt if you know yourself," she retorted, a fine 
 scorn in her tone. 
 
 " Don't say that, Lou!" he cried, this time with an ea- 
 gerness which was unfeigned. And he continued with 
 an impetuousness which did not permit of interruption : 
 
 " You think I live upon the surf ace of everything; that 
 no wishes nor aspirations reach my inner nature. Per- 
 haps you have reasons for estimating my character thus ; 
 but I will prove to you that you are wrong. I will cast
 
 38 ABE YOU ILL, TRACY? 
 
 my fate upon your hands ; I will show you that I have 
 hopes, and you shall have the power ana opportunity for 
 deciding them now!" 
 
 He paused ; and in that pause she spoke, with an odd 
 commingling of lightness and resoluteness. 
 
 " I told you how I should treat anything of a serious 
 character from your lips tonight. I shall make a figura- 
 tive response, and it will be a negative at that. So do not 
 hazard your fate at such an unauspicious time. It 
 might cost you your night's repose, and it is well to keep 
 your sleep unbroken as long as you may. ' Where 
 ignorance is bliss,' you know." 
 
 He was silent again, possibly at a loss how to treat her 
 remark. 
 
 " And if I wait until a more auspicious time?" he ques- 
 tioned, at length. 
 
 " Do not attempt to fathom what the future may hold 
 in store for you." And after a moment she added: 
 
 " Go up to the Magic Spring and see what is mirrored 
 there though perhaps you have tried that test already. 
 For ha! you betray guilt." 
 
 Roy Blanchard's laugh was not quite so light as it 
 usually was, and he vouchsafed no reply to the charge. 
 
 It was her turn to be eager. 
 
 " Own up the truth," she said, in a tone of assumed 
 badinage ; " you drank from the Magic Spring. Do not 
 deny it." 
 
 " I haven't denied it," he returned. 
 
 " And you saw a face mirrored there?" 
 
 Yes.' y 
 
 "Besides your own?" her voice low with suppressed 
 avidity for his response. 
 
 " Besides my own," he declared. 
 
 " The face of Alma Burton, or " she paused, for him 
 to reply. 
 
 " JN o, not hers. 5 ' 
 
 " It doesn't matter," with assumed indifference. Then, 
 to repay him for tantalizing her, she added:
 
 THE WIFE'S SUGGESTION. 39 
 
 "I should never have thought you capable of such 
 folly. It might do for a school-girl, but in you ! " 
 
 "To what folly do you refer, Miss Wentworth?" he 
 asked, with assumed ignorance of her meaning. 
 
 "The trying of such a silly test a fortune-telling 
 trick!" 
 
 " I tried no trick at least, none of the sort to which 
 you refer." 
 
 "But you drank from the magic spring?" 
 
 "Why shouldn't I, if I was thirsty? It is remarkably 
 good water. But I drank at noonday, and the spell is 
 said to work only in the night-time. 
 
 " But you said you saw a face reflected one beside 
 your own ! " 
 
 " "Which was true. It was the face of a very pretty- 
 canine, however, which took a fancy to drink when I dia. 
 Whose dog it was " 
 
 She interrupted him by freeing her arm, and running 
 briskly up the road toward the house. 
 
 He quickly came up with her, eagerly exclaiming: 
 
 " Forgive me, Lou! " 
 
 " There's nothing to forgive," she said, with a reassur- 
 ing laugh. But she hurried on, and in a moment they 
 came in sight of the hotel. 
 
 At the same time it began to rain; and Lou Went- 
 worth again joined the guests ; and later retired to sleep, 
 and dream of her hopes and doubts. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE WIFE'S SUGGESTION. 
 
 tc Lovers, and madmen, have such seething brains, 
 Such shaping fantasies that apprehend 
 More than cool reason ever comprehends." 
 
 Midsummer Night's Dream. 
 
 The next day dawned with overcast sky and a cold, 
 drizzling rain. 
 
 Cheerful fires were kindled in the halls and public
 
 40 THE WIFE'S SUGGESTION. 
 
 rooms of the hotel, and the only consolation for the 
 guests, shut in for the day, was in the charm of the glow- 
 ing coals and dancing flames, which, however, sent out 
 almost too much warmth for perfect comfort. 
 
 Probably the tires fully compensated for the loss of the 
 sunshine to only one inmate of the house. Mr. Brock, 
 with his black coat buttoned to his chin, occupied him- 
 self by going from one tire-place to another, pausing for 
 a few moments before each to bathe his white, skinny 
 hands in the warmth. He was freshly shaved, and his 
 cheeks and chin shone as though they had been polished. 
 This skinniness of the cuticle upon Mr. Brock's hands as 
 well as his face, was a peculiarity which no one could fail 
 to notice. 
 
 Mrs. Boynton kept to her apartments until afternoon. 
 The morning found her unusually pale, for the night had 
 not been a reposeful one to her. Her husband was irri- 
 tated by the prospect of a dull day, for he, with several 
 others, had arranged for a fishing excursion. 
 
 " "We might spend this day together, Chester," his wife 
 suggested. She stood at her mirror, adjusting the lace 
 at her white throat. To say that Tracy Boynton was 
 pretty is not doing her justice. Her loveliness was of a 
 rare, classical type, such as an artist would choose for an 
 ideal portrait. It is hard to describe such beauty as hers; 
 it must be seen to be admired, and it is seldom seen. 
 
 " So we. might," he replied, with a faint smile. After 
 a moment he added : 
 
 " But I think it' would be rather better taste to mingle 
 with the other guusts. We don't wish them to think 
 us " he paused, and she quickly asked: 
 
 "Think us what?" 
 
 " Spooney like a pair of turtle-doves." 
 
 She made no response, but a dash of pink came into 
 her cheeks and there remained, as though she had ap- 
 plied rouge. He did not see it, however, because he did 
 not look at her.
 
 THE WIFE'S SUGGESTION. 41 
 
 "Don't you think so?" he asked, after a rather pro- 
 tracted interval of silence. 
 
 " Oh, yes, of course. It would look better for me to 
 stay with Lou WentwortE, or Miss Burton, while you 
 might sit by Mr. Brock and help him to keep warm. I 
 don't see how he will survive the day unless he can sun 
 himself upon a rock." 
 
 The scorn in her tones was so fine that it was almost 
 lost upon the hearer. He took it as a sort of pleasantry ; 
 he did not dream that her words were intended to convey 
 keen reproach. 
 
 " I hadn't thought of Brock to-day I haven't seen 
 him, in fact," Chester remarked in a careless tone. 
 
 " I'm afraid," he continued, " that the poor fellow has 
 frozen that his blood is congealed in his veins. I must 
 look him up. But for me he would have a dull time of 
 it here, I declare." 
 
 Mr. Boynton rose, yawned, went to the mirror and 
 adjusted his tie, and then went from the room. At the 
 door he paused and looked back. Tracy had seated her 
 self by a window, and was reading or seeming to do so. 
 
 " Shall I send Miss Went worth up to see you f" Chester 
 asked. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Perhaps Mr. Temple will come over by and by." 
 
 " I hope so. I truly hope he will." 
 
 She threw more eagerness into her tones as she said 
 this than she really felt. But this, too, was lost upon her 
 husband, who had turned away to greet some one passing 
 along the corridor. The next moment he was descending 
 the stairs. 
 
 It was not until then that Tracy covered her face and 
 gave way to a paroxysm of emotion. 
 
 For an hour she sat thus ; but her fit of weeping was of 
 only a few moments duration. Her thoughts reverted 
 to the occurrences of the previous evening it was the 
 first time she had had for thinking them alone. Her in- 
 dulgence of Lou Wentworth's whim at the Magic Springs,
 
 42 THE WIFE'S SUGGESTION. 
 
 and its strange consequences, had been only partially dis- 
 solved to her husband. 
 
 She had refrained from telling him all, not from a wish 
 to deceive him, but because she shrank with the keen ridi- 
 cule which she was sure it would receive at his hands. 
 
 She told him only that Lou had requested her to go 
 thither, and that she had complied. That she was ner- 
 vous at the time, and a foolish cause frightened her. He 
 was satisfied with her explanation; he would doubless 
 have been satisfied if she had given him less. 
 
 " You and Miss Wentworth have been probably indulg- 
 ing in romantic absurdities, like a couple of schoolgirls," 
 he had said, in mild reproach. 
 
 " It was so strange so strange ! " the young wife kept 
 repeating to herself now, as she recalled the event. 
 
 "Could it have been an hallucination? A freak of my 
 own imagination, wrought upon by the time and place? 
 What would Lou say, if she knew? and Philip? Chester 
 would only laugh at me, or declare that I had drank too 
 strong tea of late. And yet how plain it was I can see 
 it now, so vivid is the impression upon my mind." 
 
 Tracy rose at length and bathed her face in cool water. 
 Then she went down. The first face she saw was Lou 
 Wentworth's, and in a moment they were together, 
 ensconced cosily in a deep window by themselves. 
 
 "Tell me about it, won't you?" Lou eagerly questioned. 
 For I know you saw something. You wouldn't have 
 swooned at nothing." 
 
 "It was very dark by the spring," Tracy replied, 
 speaking slowly, undecided whether to make a confidante 
 of her friend. 
 
 "And you were afraid? But something must have 
 frightened you! something weird and dreadful! " 
 
 Lou crossed her white arms upon her bosom in an 
 unstudied, yet tragic attitude, and the big blue eyes, and 
 red, parted lips all expressed a degree of expectancy 
 which it would be cruel to disappoint. 
 
 "It was nothing very dreadful, if I saw anything,"
 
 THE WIFE'S SUGGESTION. 43 
 
 Mrs. Boynton replied. Yet rifts of white crossed her 
 cheeks as she spoke. 
 
 "You were- terribly startled, I'm sure. And you 
 nearly frightened me out of my wits. If Mr. Boynton 
 hadn't appeared just then I believe / should have 
 swooned, too." 
 
 "My poor child." Tracy gently stroked the soft 
 cheek so near her own. 
 
 " Perhaps it was he who frightened you Mr. Boynton, 
 I mean," Lou exclaimed. 
 
 " No, it was not my husband. It was no one. Yet I 
 thought I saw a face! " 
 
 The confession was uttered scarce above a whisper. 
 
 "In the spring?" the girl breathlessly asked, impul- 
 sively catching the speaker's hands between both her own. 
 
 "Yes, mirrored beside my own. It was only a 
 glimpse, of course, for I screamed and started back upon 
 the instant. Yet it was distinct yes, very distinct! " 
 
 Mrs. Boynton shuddered at the recollection, even 
 though it was broad daylight then, and the murmur of 
 voices filled the room. 
 
 Lou did not question her further just then. They sat 
 for some time in silence, watching the dreary, dripping 
 rain outside. Then the girl told of her brief stroll with 
 Roy Blanchard, and all that passed between them. 
 Then, somewhat later, she abruptly said: 
 
 " One thing you did not tell me, Tracy." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Whose face you saw reflected in the magic spring." 
 
 " It was only an illusion." 
 
 " But it resembled some one, of course." 
 
 " Yes, it did the face of one who was once a dear 
 friend almost a brother." Mrs. Boynton paused, and 
 then added: " Don't ask me his name, dear. And we 
 won't think any more about it." 
 
 " What if I had gone to the spring, as I intended ; do 
 you suppose I should have seen anything?" Lou eagerly 
 asked.
 
 44 . - THE WIFE'S SUGGESTION. 
 
 " Of course not, unless you had been foolish and fanci- 
 ful, as I was." 
 
 " Then I shouldn't dare to go, for I am. foolish, and I 
 imagine all sorts of absurd things. I shouldn't dare to 
 go mere now, even at noonday!" 
 
 The curtains which half shut the window recess from 
 the room were drawn back at this moment, somewhat 
 hesitatingly, and a frank, handsome face which Lou had 
 seen but once before looked in. 
 
 "Philip in spite of the rain!" Mrs. Boynton ex- 
 claimed, rising to greet him, for the intruder was indeed 
 Mr. Temple, who evinced a shade of embarrassment upon 
 seeing that she was not alone. 
 
 Lou rose to go ; but Mrs. Boynton detained her. 
 
 " You two will be the best of friends in half an hour," 
 Tracy declared, when she had presented Philip, and he 
 had accepted a seat tete-a-tete with both. 
 
 " I am sure we shall," Lou coincided, convinced that 
 Mr. Temple strongly resembled Roy Blanchard. As she 
 covertly watched his face, however, she could not decide 
 for the life of her in what the resemblance consisted. 
 Perhaps it was because they were both gentlemen, and 
 about equally prepossessing. 
 
 Lou was keenly observant, and when Philip had first 
 looked in upon them she noticed that her companion 
 started and paled slightly. 
 
 " I wonder if k wasn't his face that she saw reflected 
 in the spring?" she mentally asked herself. 
 
 " Did you expect a little rain could keep me all day 
 in that dull place, with brightness so near?" Temple 
 exclaimed. 
 
 "No, I expected you," Tracy admitted. The color 
 had returned to her cheeks, the brilliance to her eyes. 
 Even Lou noticed that Mrs. Boynton 's dreamy loveliness 
 was enhanced by a new, indescribable charm. 
 
 " By the way, I met your husband just outside as I 
 came," Philip went on. " He was laden with fishing- 
 tackle, and with two or three others was starting off to
 
 THE WIFE'S SUGGESTION. 45 
 
 a brook which is fabled to contain trout. I don't* know 
 where the brook is, and I'm skeptical about the trout. 
 There may be eels, and possibly minnows. He told me 
 to come in and hunt you up. As he didn't ask me to go 
 with him I suppose he did not care for my companion- 
 ship. Possibly ne feared that I were a better angler than 
 he, or that I would bribe the trout." 
 
 Lou laughed at his bright humor ; and Tracy smiled, 
 though she frowned at first. 
 
 "So he has gone, after all!" she exclaimed, half in- 
 voluntarily. 
 
 "Then you didn't know?" in some surprise, and 
 with a penetrating glance. 
 
 " He spoke of going, but thought it rained too much," 
 she quickly explained, and his suspicion that there had 
 been disagreement between them was set aside. And she 
 added : 
 
 " I'm glad he did not invite you to join them, for I 
 fear you would have been tempted to go beyond vour 
 power to withstand." 
 
 " Perhaps I should ; human nature is weak. And 
 that reminds me that I met with a rather curious adven- 
 ture last night, as I was returning to the cottage from 
 here." 
 
 A rift of pallor crossed Tracy Boynton's face, and she 
 turned hastily toward the window to hide it. But Lou 
 Wentworth noted her agitation, and bent eagerly for- 
 ward, curious to hear what Mr. Temple had to relate. 
 
 At the same moment someone in the next room sud- 
 denly struck a low, sweet prelude upon the great piano. 
 The music rose and throbbed upon the air with a melody 
 as strange, and weird as that of an aeolian harp.
 
 46 A DREAM OF MUSIC. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A DKKAM OF MUSIC. 
 
 " If he, compact of the jars, grow musical, 
 We shall have shortly discord in the spheres." 
 
 As You Like It. 
 
 Mr. Temple told the story of his adventure with the 
 illusive light, appending the statements of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Webb. His listeners did not once interrupt him. 
 
 Miss Wentworth fairly trembled with intense interest 
 in the romantic tale. Tracy gazed out upon the dreary 
 landscape until he had finished; and all the while the 
 music rose and fell with plaintive sweetness in the ad- 
 joining room. 
 
 " I shall be afraid to stay near this mountain if it is 
 infested with such serie apparitions and secrets," Lou 
 exclaimed, when he had finished. 
 
 " We will form a committee of investigation one of 
 these days, and unearth the trickster who would victim- 
 ize us," Temple returned, with assumed lightness. 
 
 " Who knows but we may discover a bevy of witches, 
 chanting over their cauldron and cooking a charm, up 
 among the rocks," Tracy suggested, facing her com- 
 panions. 
 
 " Perhaps it was thence that the thunder was conjured 
 yesterday, when 1 found you crouching upon the moun- 
 tain-side," Philip laughed. 
 
 Lou clapped her hands to her ears, quickly crying: 
 
 " You'll drive me mad with your uncanny suggestions 
 if you keep on. I feel as though I had just awakened 
 from a nightmare already." 
 
 They all laughed to banish the spell. 
 
 "That music affects me more than Mr. Temple's 
 story," Mrs. Boynton declared, with a shrug of her grace- 
 ful shoulders. " Whom can it be playing, Lou? " 
 
 "One whose fingers evoke the strangest melody to
 
 A DREAM OF MUSIC. 47 
 
 which 1 ever listened," Philip said, listening. " I shall 
 dream of that music," he added, a moment later. 
 
 " I will know whom the magician is," Lou exclaimed, 
 darting away from them like a fairy. When she had 
 gone, Mr. Temple bent his face a little nearer his com- 
 panion. 
 
 " I had a dream last night which has haunted me ever 
 since," he said, unconsciously using a lower tone. 
 
 "A dream of music?" she questioned. 
 
 " No, though it was rather weird. Stimulated, prob- 
 ably, by my odd experience in the evening. My unex- 
 pected meeting with you had something to do with it, 
 also." 
 
 "Aren't you going to tell us what it was? You have 
 stirred up my curiosity, and now you have no right to 
 disappoint it." 
 
 " I didn't intend to tell you." A faint blush mantled 
 his cheeks, which from the first she had noticed were 
 rather pale. 
 
 " It is hardly suitable for me to repeat, under the cir- 
 cumstances," he added. 
 
 " You should not even dream of unsuitable things," 
 Mrs. Boynton declared. 
 
 " I suppose not. Nor of ridiculous ones, either, 
 presume?" 
 
 " Then your dream was ridiculous ? And it has 
 haunted you ever since! And you think it was partly 
 stimulated by meeting me, as though that were ridicu- 
 lous." 
 
 Her badinage reminded him of the old days before 
 their separation so strongly as to give him pain. 
 
 " You used to talk in that way when but you re- 
 member," he exclaimed. This was the first time he had 
 made allusion to former times; an irresistible impulse 
 impelled the remark. 
 
 "And you didn't enjoy it very well, if I remember 
 rightly," she returned, in the same light tone. 
 
 She was intently examining the petals of a tea-rose as
 
 48 A DREAM OF MUSIC. 
 
 she spoke. The flower was withered and odorless one 
 which someone had tossed upon the window-seat the 
 evening before. 
 
 " I preferred a more serious strain in those days with 
 you at least," Philip declared. 
 
 Now that they were upon the subject, both found it 
 irrestibly fascinating. Each was curious to hear what 
 the other had to say. 
 
 " It all doubtless seems very foolish, as you think of it 
 now? " she went on, without raising her eyes to his face. 
 
 The music at this moment rose in fuller volume, and 
 she was obliged to lean toward him to hear his reply. 
 
 "No, it does not," he replied, very gravely. " 1 was 
 at the years of discretion even then, you will bear in 
 mind, "-he added, the emphasis very light yet plain upon 
 the personal pronoun. 
 
 " So you were, now I think of it! " She glanced up at 
 him and smiled as she said this. 
 
 He smiled also, although the attempt was little better 
 than a ghastly grimace. 
 
 " You were fortunate in escaping my serious designs, 
 considering your youth," he said, stimulated for the 
 retort. "Your forethought was quite Promethean, in 
 fact. I should think you would thank the stars under 
 which you were born for your great good fortune." 
 
 " Then you really think I am fortunate? " she quickly 
 asked, as though interpreting his remark seriously. 
 
 " In one sense, certainly," he replied. 
 
 " I don't mean that." She said this with an impatient 
 gesture. And looking him frankly in the face she went 
 on: "You know I liked you then, and like you now. 
 You would have made me happy." This was delicate 
 ground, and the color deepened upon her cheeks. But 
 she had an end to reach, and did not falter. " It is not 
 that I escaped disappointment by refusing you. But I 
 wish you to tell me what you think of him! " 
 
 The instant the words had passed her lips, she realized 
 that she had not said what she intended to say. The
 
 A DREAM OF MUSIC. 49 
 
 whole remark verged upon. an impropriety. He saw her 
 confusion ; a finer sense than many possess permitted him 
 to understand, better than herself, the promptings of her 
 words. 
 
 " I think he is evidently a very evil-minded man; pos- 
 sibly a murderer, or red-handed pirate masquerading 
 under respectable colors," Philip Temple declared, as 
 though he thought her impetuous query had been made 
 in jest. And the delicate turn of his retort relieved her 
 embarrassment, which it was in his power to have made 
 painful. 
 
 But it was not in his heart to allow her even to inflict 
 pain upon herself. 
 
 Her confusion was still further banished by the appear- 
 ance of Miss Wentworth, whose dimpled face wore an 
 almost rapt expression. 
 
 " Did you ever here such music? " she cried, in a whis- 
 per which was very shrill. 
 
 Once more they became concious of the rythmic, throb- 
 bing melody, which rose and fell like the breaking of 
 surr upon a distant shore. At times it died away to a 
 faint murmur, as though an adverse wind bore the sounds 
 another way. Then it would swell upon the air again, 
 like a strong wind sweeping the tuneful strings of an 
 aeolian harp. 
 
 As Philip had said, it was such music as one might 
 dream of. 
 
 " It is wonderful," Temple said. 
 
 "I wish it would stop!" Mrs. Boynton exclaimed, 
 half - breathlessly. 
 
 " You haven't told us yet the name of the performer?" 
 Philip reminded. 
 
 " You couldn't guess in a week." Lou returned. 
 
 " Probably not, as I don't know anyone in the house, 
 except Mrs. Boynton and yourself." 
 
 " I sha'n't tell you, either, you shall come and see for 
 yourself. All the people are in there, and they are under 
 a Bpell, I think. You will be surprisd, Tracy, more than
 
 50 A DREAM OF MUSIC. 
 
 I was, because but I won't give you a single clue, 
 come?" 
 
 She beckoned them on, and half -mechanically they fol- 
 lowed. They passed through one deserted room and 
 reached the doorway of another the one where the piano 
 was. 
 
 They paused upon the threshold and looked in. All 
 the guests were there, some standing, others sitting. As 
 Lou Went worth had expressed it, they seemed to have 
 fallen under a spell. But it was broken at the moment, 
 for the music ceased. 
 
 The player rose from the instrument, shrugged his 
 shoulders, walked over to the fireplace and bathed his 
 hands in the warmth. 
 
 It was Mr. Brock! 
 
 There was a moment of breathless silence, and then 
 someone attempted to applaud. But only one or two 
 others joined in, and the attempt was abandoned amid 
 some embarrassment. 
 
 There was likewise a murmur of " wonderful," " weird," 
 and kindered expressions, which became quite general. 
 
 Mr. Brock bowed and smiled his acknowledgment, 
 and sinking upon a chair, abandoned himself to the pleas- 
 ure of getting warm. 
 
 " Did you ever hear the like, Mrs. Boynton ?" exclaimed 
 Alma Burton, who had drawn near them. She was rather 
 tall, rather pale, and evidently of the dreamy, listless 
 type of young women, who are always popular with the 
 otner sex, though they sometimes fail to get a husband 
 of their very own. Alma's eyes were dark, her lashes 
 long, and she lent everyone an impression that she was 
 beautiful. Yet a closer study of her features brought 
 disappointment. She was not even pretty. She merely 
 knew how to smile, and possessed a pleasing voice. 
 
 " I never wish to again," Tracy replied, in an incau- 
 tious tone. Mr. Brock glanced toward them in his alert 
 fashion, but it was unlikely that he distinguished her 
 words, as he betrayed no signs of having done so.
 
 A DREAM OF MUSIC. 51 
 
 " Then you aidn't enjoy it?" Alma questioned so cau- 
 tiously that Mr. Brock could not by any possibility over- 
 hear. For Miss Burton always took care that no one 
 should dislike her. 
 
 " No. It sounded like the performer subtle, danger- 
 ous to the senses!" 
 
 They were in the next room when this was spoken, so 
 there was no danger of giving offense to the object of the 
 remark. 
 
 " Tracy is so queer," Lou exclaimed. " She likes or 
 dislikes everybody. There is no half-way with her, I'm 
 not like that. There are those 1 hate, and others that I 
 love, and a great many whom I call my friends, and yet 
 don't care very much for them." 
 
 "And I like everybody," declared Alma, with one of 
 her rare smiles. She might have added with equal truth 
 that no one disliked her. 
 
 Philip had stopped to speak to Mr. Brock. He now 
 came up, and was presented to Miss Burton. 
 
 " Mr. Brock declares that the reception his music has 
 met with gave him the chills," Temple said, laughing. 
 
 " Poor fellow! I really pity him," Alma exclaimed. 
 
 " If there is one who pities, she should let the senti- 
 ment do the object some good." 
 
 This was Mrs. Boynton's suggestion. 
 
 " It would be a sight for the gods, Alma bestowing 
 consolation upon Mr. Brock," cried Lou. "They say 
 that pity is akin to love," she added, perhaps a little 
 spitefully. 
 
 " ' To trace all actions to their secret springs, 
 Would make indeed some melancholy mirth! ' " 
 
 Alma sweetly quoted. 
 
 Just then Roy Blanchard appeared, and upon some 
 slight pretext it did not require a great one he led 
 Alma and Lou away. 
 
 At the same time Philip made a discovery. It was a 
 rift of sunlight upon the floor. It faded even while he 
 was looking, yet it promised a clearing up of the storm.
 
 52 A. DRKAM OF MUSIC. 
 
 "The discovery is ours, and let us be the first to 
 behold the departure of the vanquished clouds," Tracy 
 exclaimed, a sudden glow brightening her cheeks. In a 
 moment they were out upon the veranda. To their 
 surprise they saw that the broken clouds through which 
 the sunshine gleamed were low upon the western horizon. 
 " Another day nearly gone," said Philip. And he added : 
 " I must go, Tracy. Jason Webb promised to help me 
 investigate the mystery which I encountered last night. 
 Do you know, that silly adventure has haunted me ever 
 since it occurred! " 
 
 She looked at him searchingly. "And your dream of 
 last night, does that haunt you, too?" she questioned. 
 
 He smiled, hesitated, then answered: 
 
 " Yes, and you shall know what it was, though it is 
 bad taste in me to repeat it. You will bear in mind that 
 it was only a dream." 
 
 " I will remember." 
 
 " "Well, I dreampt that I was thirsty, and bent over a 
 spring of water to drink." 
 
 He hesitated again, seeing a fixed, startled look come 
 into her face. 
 
 "Go on go on!" she breathlessly exclaimed. 
 
 " And I saw your face reflected there ; and, as I might 
 once have done, I bent to kiss the image. The contact 
 awoke me, and I found " He interrupted himself, for 
 Mrs. Boynton's face had grown deathly white, and she 
 seemed about to swoon. 
 
 At the same time he became conscious of a third 
 presence. And turning, he saw, bundled up in an 
 overcoat, the eccentric Mr. Brock 1
 
 THE MAGIC SPRING. 53 
 
 CHAPTEK IX. 
 
 THE MAGIC SPRING. 
 
 " Of love that never found his earthly close, 
 What sequel?" 
 
 Tenneyson. 
 
 By a powerful effort Tracy Boynton controlled the sud- 
 den sense of faintness which had come upon her. The 
 sight of Mr. Brock stimulated her effort, as a sudden 
 danger which called for vigorous self-defense might have 
 done. 
 
 Mr. Brock w T as close behind Philip, yet there was no 
 sign that he had overheard what the young man was say- 
 ing. He seemed absorbed in watching the red glow that 
 lit up the distant trees and clouds. 
 
 Philip would have stepped forward to assist his com- 
 panion, but by a slight, yet vehement gesture she waved 
 him back. 
 
 " A shoolboy's dream I should call that," she said, in 
 a tone of forced lightness. Then, while he was bewil- 
 dered by her pallor and incongruous speech, she added : 
 
 " Perhaps you were thinking of the romantic stories 
 told of the spring over yonder, which is said to reflect 
 the face of one's sweetheart if one drinks from it by 
 moonlight. Of course you have heard about it your 
 Mr. Webb is of course familiar with all the fables con- 
 cerning places of interest in this vicinity." 
 
 "The Magic Spring, is it called?" Philip questioned. 
 
 Mr. Brock suddenly seemed to become cognizant of 
 theirpresence. He faced them, and gravely said: 
 
 " You young people may laugh at such things, but 
 you'll see the day that you'll believe in 'em." 
 
 Both looked at him in surprise. There was an expres- 
 sion of deep earnestness upon his cold, white face. 
 
 " So you put faith in that sort of thing? " Philip ques- 
 tioned.
 
 54 ' THE MAGIC 8PEING. 
 
 " Yes, and with reason," lie replied. 
 
 " You have had personal experience? " 
 
 " Yes. And I've seen others have it. Minds impress 
 minds when they are distant from each other. There 
 are laws we know nothing, or very little about. Scien- 
 tists don't count them as worthy of investigation ; such as 
 you laugh at them ; ignorant people run away from them. 
 I suppose, Mr Temple, that you've heard of the myste- 
 rious lights seen upon the mountain base at night? The 
 spot is yonder, half mile or such a matter from here. 
 Decidedly odd, and worth looking into, I take it." 
 
 Mr Brock buttoned his coat more closely and thrust 
 his hands deep in his pockets, as though it were a bitter 
 cold day. 
 
 "Have you seen the phenomenon?" Philip questioned. 
 
 " Yes, once. I'm seldom out after sunset, however. 
 Evening gives me a chill even indoors. But Isaw it once. 
 Tried to find- where it was, with usual results. Illusive, 
 mysterious, aggravating. May look into the matter at 
 some future time. I may not What's your idea? Got 
 a theory, I suppose?" 
 
 " I have no theory," Philip replied. The other shrugged 
 his shoulders and abruptly rose. 
 
 " Sun setting in a cloud sign of more rain," he de- 
 clared, in evident disgust. And then, with a nod : 
 
 "Good night. When Boynton comes I'd like to see 
 him. Game of whist on the docket." 
 
 The black moustache moved in what might, or mignt 
 not, have been a smile, and then the eccentric man 
 stalked into the house. 
 
 In silence Philip descended the steps, and walked 
 slowly along the path. Mrs. Boynton walked by his side. 
 As Mr. Brock had declared, the sun was sinking into a 
 cloud. The western horizon was rugged and uneven in 
 outline. There were mountains and hills, lying in a long 
 irregular range, blue and misty in the distance. They 
 were crowned with a glory of purple and gold. The gold, 
 however, was fading, and the purple became more somber.
 
 THE MAGIC SPRING. 55 
 
 Along the path lay lights and shadows, wavering and 
 swaying, assuming fantastic outlines, coming and going 
 like uhe joys and sorrows of life. The valley below, with 
 the zigzag road, lay fresh and green, as though it were 
 newly made, verdure and all. 
 
 Presently Mrs. Boynton paused, cast a quick glance 
 backward. 
 
 " I must go no farther, or I shall not dare return alone," 
 she said. 
 
 " Perhaps we may meet your husband if we keep on," 
 Philip suggested. 
 
 " He will not be alone, and I had rather not meet him 
 with the others. I wish he had not gone at all. I hoped 
 he would stay and help to make it pleasant for you. I 
 wish you to become friends." 
 
 She spoke very earnestly, her voice so low that he 
 could not have distinguished her words but for the per- 
 fect stillness that reigned around them. 
 
 " Perhaps he doesn't care to count me as a friend," 
 the young man returned. Unconsciously, when alone 
 together, they had assumed the low, confidential tones 
 and manner which had characterized their conversations 
 in former days. 
 
 " It isn't that, Philip," she quickly said. There was 
 another brief pause. And then : 
 
 " Chester and you are very unlike each other. He is 
 not one to form strong friendships. He is rather indiff- 
 erent toward those whom he calls 'ordinary people.' He 
 has a great mind, and a great soul." 
 
 Philip looked at her with covert keenness. How beau- 
 tiful she was! He lingered at her side as though under 
 a spell. 
 
 " Did you ever speak to him of me! " he presently 
 asked. " Before we met yesterday, I mean," he added, 
 as she hesitated. 
 
 " No," she answered. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " There never came a fit time, but once. Once we
 
 56 THE MAGIC SPRING. 
 
 were speaking of a young couple of our acquaintance who 
 broke what was supposed to be a virtual engagement. I 
 then came near speaking of you and our former relations. 
 But he uttered a rein rk that sealed my lips." 
 
 " What did he say ?" 
 
 "That he would as soon wed the divorced wife of 
 another, as one who had been affianced. He believes 
 that a sentiment, although buried for a time, is im- 
 mortal, and may spring into life again." 
 
 Philip Temple's face was very pale; but the sunset 
 glow falling upon it disguised the fact. 
 
 " I believe that love, if genuine, is never buried," he de- 
 clared, speaking slowly, yet in a firm, even tone. " There 
 are betrothals which are the mere fruits of fancy," he went 
 on, " and these may be broken and renewed, likethe sworn 
 friendships of boys and girls at school. They are with- 
 out foundation, and like a bubble, they are dissipated, as 
 they ought to be. But there are betrothals in which the 
 hand of fate is unmistakably present. These are some 
 times broken. But the sentiment prompting them is 
 never buried. It springs from the roots of their mutual 
 existence, and although they may be separated, and marry 
 a later choice, the first love merely sleeps. Misfortune, 
 misunderstanding, the common discords of life may 
 awaken it, and the realization that a mistake has been 
 made will come like a shock." 
 
 Temple paused ; his gaze had been fixed upon the deep- 
 ening shadows of the valley; now he faced his companion, 
 his countenance lighted by the frank smile which bespoke 
 only a chivalrous, honorable friendliness. 
 
 "What is your belief, Tracy?" he questioned. 
 
 "Mine?" She raised her eyes to his face for a mo- 
 ment. Then abruptly: 
 
 " Look yonder and you will see a pair of lovers, pure 
 and simple!" 
 
 He turned to glance in the direction indicated, and saw 
 Roy Blanchard, in a stooping posture, and being trans- 
 formed into a savage at the hands of Lou Wentworth
 
 THE MAGIC SPRING 57 
 
 at least, in appearance, for he was bedecked from head to 
 foot in clematis and trailing evergreen. At the same time 
 Philip heard the rustle of drapery, and turning, saw Mrs 
 Boynton running away from him with the lightness and 
 grace of a gazelle 
 
 " Good night!" he called after her But she did not 
 even glance (backward in response. In another moment 
 she was hidden from view. 
 
 Temple turned away with a sense of indescribable dis 
 appointment. Why should he experience such a feeling? 
 In a vague sort of way he asked himself the question 
 But he did not answer it As he strode rapidly along 
 the path, a sense of weighty depression assailed him. 
 
 ''I'll go away to-morrow!" ne exclaimed, as he has 
 tened on through the gathering shadows. " There is no 
 reason why 1 should remain nere Mr. Boynton, it is 
 evident, dislikes me. I had hoped that they might help 
 me to pass the month of my sojourn here more happily. 
 But such is not my good fortune." 
 
 The resolution to go away on the morrow was but the 
 result of an impulse, and that quickly passed. As he 
 neared the point at which he had met with the curious 
 adventure upon the night before, his thoughts were di- 
 verted from the fit- of moodiness into which he had fallen. 
 
 It was not yet dark. Under the shadow of the moun- 
 tain the twilight lingered long, Around the rock be- 
 yond which he had seen the mysterious light mingled 
 light and shadows lay They danced and shifted gro- 
 tesquely with the slowly swaying branches of the sur- 
 rounding trees and shrubbery. A soft breeze, which had 
 suddenly sprung up into life, whispered amidst the 
 foliage, and sent down showers of water from the laden 
 leaves. 
 
 Temple paused and glanced toward the spot whence 
 the mysterious light had gleamed. A sense of vague 
 uneasiness stole over him. A red squirrel scampered 
 past him, and he started as though he feared assault. In 
 this place all sounds and all objects assumed a weirdness
 
 58 THE MAGIC SPBDfO. 
 
 that was almost oppressive. But he did not see the 
 illusive light. 
 
 "It is too early," he reflected. And then he laughed 
 outright. " As though I really expected to encounter 
 some uncanny apparition," he added, contemptuously. 
 " I will look the ground over now, while there is suf- 
 ficient light. I will see for myself if there is not some 
 easily discoverable cause for the phenomenon which has 
 puzzled so many. A little coolness and care may clear 
 up the whole affair." 
 
 He began pushing his way through the labyrinth of 
 undergrowth. As he did so, a sudden " swish " in his 
 rear caused him to abruptly face about.
 
 THE LIGHT AGAIN. 59 
 
 CHAPTEK X. 
 
 THE LIGHT AGAIN. 
 
 " I have thee not, and yet I see thee still, 
 
 Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible 
 
 To feeling as to sight f " Macbeth. 
 
 Temple saw the figure of a man in the path; a young 
 stalwart fellow, who had paused, and was peering through 
 the shrubbery. 
 
 " Halloa, Webb!" Philip ejaculated, advancing. 
 
 " So you're here ahead of me," the young farmer re- 
 turned, in his quiet tone. 
 
 The two looked into each other's faces in mute ques- 
 tioning for a moment. 
 
 " I've seen nothing yet," Temple declared, at length. 
 
 " Been here long?" the other asked. 
 
 " No, I was on my way to your house. I thought I 
 wouldn't keep Mrs. Webb waiting for me to-night." 
 
 " If you want your supper, we'll go over. But I thought 
 maybe you would rather stop and investigate this busi- 
 ness first Just as you say." 
 
 " If it makes no difference to your wife; " 
 
 Webb interrupted by a gesture. 
 
 " Not a bit," he declared. He glanced upward at the 
 heavy clouds and added: 
 
 " We might wait till a better night. The storm isn't 
 over with yet I guess. Looks to me as though we should 
 have a young deluge before morning." Even as he spoke 
 the patter of huge raindrops sounded around them. 
 
 "I'm not afraid of the rain; I rather like it, in fact," 
 Temple returned. 
 
 Indeed, the more difficult the adventure, the greater 
 zest in its pursuit in his present mood. 
 
 There was a sort of pleasant excitement in the antici- 
 pation of genuine adventure. For, although he did not 
 believe in the supernatural, Philip was impressed by a
 
 60 
 
 certainty that lie was upon the eve of an extraordinary 
 experience. 
 
 " Just as you say," Webb declared, He led the way 
 to a spot partly under the huge, shelving rock, and said: 
 
 " We might as well wait here until it gets darker. "We 
 can't find nothing by daylight. Maybe there'll nothing 
 happen to-night, anyhow. Be just our luck, wouldn't it ?" 
 
 The rain began to fall heavily, and the twilight rapidly 
 deepened into darkness. The moon would not set for an 
 hour or more, and it promised to be very dark before 
 that time, for the clouds already obscured its feeble 
 light. 
 
 Webb produced and lighted a lantern 
 
 " Thought this would help us some," he said. 
 
 " We shall need it, without doubt." Temple paused, 
 and then added, with a laugh, "Aren't you afraid the 
 ghosts will break it for you?" 
 
 "No, I guess not. I sha'n't run till I'm obliged to 
 I can take care of myself, I think, and I guess you can " 
 
 " This is a queer sort of adventure for me to be mixed 
 up with," said Temple, half -musingly. It was now rain- 
 ing so heavily that there was a dull roar all around them. 
 It presently slackened, however, and Jason Webb rose to 
 
 L- 
 
 his feet, 
 
 " I'm going to see if it's there," he declared. 
 
 "The light, you mean? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 He handed his lantern to Temple and added: 
 
 " Keep that and stay here till I come back. We don't 
 want to scare the spooks off to begin with, you know." 
 
 Philip took the lantern, and crouched close underneath 
 the rocK, which effectually kept off the rain,, Jason 
 Webb glided out into the path, and passed from view. 
 
 Several long, silent moments dragged away. Silent, 
 save for the dripping rain and slight rustling sound of 
 the foliage stirred by the light breeze, Then the stout 
 form of Webb came into view. 
 
 " It's there f" he announced in a whisper.
 
 THE LIGHT AGAIH. 61 
 
 "The light?" Philip questioned. 
 
 "Yes."* 
 
 "In the usual place?" 
 
 " Just the same. Bather brighter than usual, though. 
 Owing to the darkness, probably." 
 
 Jason Webb's tones did not betray the slightest trace 
 of excitement. But, although incredulous and deter- 
 mined, Mr. Temple could not help a sensation of vague 
 apprehension. 
 
 " We'll find out what it all means if there's any way to 
 do it," he exclaimed, stepping forth into the path. 
 
 In another moment the twain stood at the point whence 
 the mysterious ]ight was visible. There it was, bright, 
 steady, save for the twinkling effect lent bp the swaying 
 shrubbery 
 
 Philip looked down at the ground at his feet. Rifts of 
 light and shadow, cast by the mysterious glow, were 
 visible there. 
 
 " Nothing ghostly about that, to all appearance," he 
 declared, audibly. 
 
 " I should say there wasn't, and the next thing is to go 
 to it. How shall we do that? Together?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "And if we find nothing?" 
 
 " Then one of us will come back, and the other stay, 
 with the lantern. Then the one in the path can tell 
 whether the light still shines or whether it's an illusion 
 peculiar to this exact point of view. It's mighty persis- 
 tent anyhow. I'm getting dead in earnest." 
 
 Temple was, indeed, thoroughly aroused. A practical, 
 clear-headed man dislikes to encounter any puzzle that 
 appears simple, and yet will not be solved. 
 
 Temple strode forward with the lantern. Webb fol- 
 lowed close at his heels. Both were fearless, determined, 
 bent upon clearing up a mystery which had baffled them 
 before. 
 
 They got through the dense shrubbery, and reached 
 that point from which the mysterious light, if it did not
 
 62 THE LIGHT AGAIN. 
 
 move from the original position, would again become 
 visible. 
 
 "As I expected," declared Webb, as they paused and 
 stared blankly ahead. For the object of their quest was 
 no longer visible. Only darkness, and that of the blackest 
 sort, lay before them. 
 
 " Of course, it disappeared," Philip impatiently re- 
 plied. And added: 
 
 " We'll see where it went to, however, and at short 
 notice. Come." 
 
 The twain advanced side by side. 
 
 The way was very rough, and they were obliged to 
 proceed with caution. They presently found their fur- 
 ther progress barred by a perpendicular rock, that rose 
 fully twenty feet above their heads, 
 
 " This is as far as we can go in this direction," "Webb 
 declared. 
 
 " This is the exact point from which the light shone, 
 isn't it? " Philip questioned. 
 
 " I should say it was." 
 
 " Then the spook, if it is one, is rather close to us I 
 fancy that we can solve this mystery if we stay here long 
 enough. Whoever is playing this pretty trick will get 
 tired of hiding, and if we stay here till daylight we'll 
 have'a chance then to find where he keeps himself. But 
 to begin with we'll carry out my original purpose. You 
 or I will return to the path. Which shall it be? The 
 one who stays here will keep the lantern." 
 
 "I'll stay. Mr. Temple," Webb declared, with quiet 
 decisiveness. 
 
 "Had you rather?" 
 
 " Yes. I guess I can handle the spook easier than you 
 could, if he happened to be muscular. I ain't very slow 
 in a tussle," the young farmer said. 
 
 He was, indeed, a powerfully built fellow, and with 
 muscles hardened by toil, he would not be a safe man to 
 attack. Besides, he possessed a degree of coolness which 
 Philip Temple envied. Although sufficiently resolute,
 
 THE LIGHT AGAIN. 63 
 
 he could not repress a feeling of intense anxiety con- 
 cerning the result of their bold investigation. 
 
 " If you want my help, call," Temple said, as he 
 turned to retrace his steps. He abruptly paused and 
 added: 
 
 " If I see two lights I shall know one of them is your 
 lantern." 
 
 " Yes, and I'll h'ist mine up and down, so that you'll 
 know which it is," the other returned. 
 
 Philip picked his way cautiously over the rugged 
 rocks and through the dense shrubbery. Reaching the 
 path, he turned to look back. At the same time he 
 caught the sound of a hasty exclamation from his com- 
 panion. 
 
 To his consternation, no light was visible. 
 
 "What is it, Webb?" Philip shouted, thrilled by a 
 vague alarm. 
 
 There was no response, yet, at that moment, a light 
 appeared at the paint at which he had left Jason and the 
 lantern. 
 
 "Are you all right? I can see only one light; is that 
 yours?" Temple again shouted, louder than before. 
 
 Was it imagination? Or did he hear a muffled 
 response? Why did not his companion answer plainly? 
 Had anything happened to him? 
 
 Once more the young man called: 
 
 "Jason Webb speak!" 
 
 He listened intently for a response. It was raining 
 heavily again; the drip, drip of water from the foliage 
 sounded near him; at a little distance a small mountain 
 stream, formed by the heavy rain, splashed and gurgled. 
 These, and only these, sounds were audible. 
 
 A sudden suspicion dawned upon Philip's active 
 brain. "Thinks to frighten me, does he?" he audibly 
 exclaimed. "Who knows but this sharp young farmer 
 is at the bottom of the whole hoax? If he is, I shall let 
 him laugh at me, that's all. But he seemed to be in 
 earnest Only he was pretty cooL These country
 
 64: THE LIGHT AGAIN. 
 
 people usually have superstitious notions, and don't fancy 
 this sort of a trick. I'll know the truth, at all events. 
 I won't be laughed at for cowardice, if I am for my 
 pains." 
 
 Philip once more pushed his way through the dense 
 shrubbery. He had an umbrella, but among the bushes 
 he could only use it as a cane, with which to feel his way, 
 and in consequence he was already drenched to the skin. 
 
 He got through the bushes once more, and looked for 
 the lignt. 
 
 It was gone. 
 
 Again Temple experienced a thrill akin to fear, yet he 
 did not flinch. 
 
 " Hoax or not, I'll not be frightened away," he mut- 
 tered. 
 
 He groped his way forward, and reached the perpen- 
 dicular wall of rock. As he did so his foot came in 
 contact with a yielding body. He stopped, and with a 
 sensation of intense horror, discovered that the form of a 
 man lay prostrate at his feet. 
 
 To strike a match was but the work of an instant, and 
 a tiny point of light fell upon the upturned face of Jason 
 Webb!
 
 LOVE IS BLIND. 65 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 LOVE IS BLIND. 
 
 "Love is blind, and lovers cannot see." 
 
 /Sfiakspeare. 
 
 " Where did Alma go so suddenly?" Roy Blanchard 
 questioned, abruptly rising from the crouching, posture 
 in which he had been submitting to Lou Wentworth's 
 unique decorations. 
 
 "You might institute a search for her," .the other de- 
 murely suggested. Her face was daintily flushed; it 
 seemed to have taken on a brighter, sweeter radiance 
 than it usually wore. 
 
 "A good idea," Roy returned. With clematis and 
 evergreens pendent from his hat and shoulders, his ap- 
 pearance was decidedly grotesque. But no amount of 
 absurdity in garb could detract an iota from his manly 
 beauty. He looked like the prince in some fairy tale, 
 with the golden sunset light atremble upon his fine face, 
 and lending a deeper bronze to his beard. 
 
 He started, as though to begin the quest at once. 
 Then he looked back with a smile and said : 
 
 " Come, Lou." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " In search of Miss Burton." 
 
 "Do you really wish to find her? " 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " Then I'll go back. You can't expect to charm us 
 both at the same time." 
 
 There was the old flash of resentment in her tones, and 
 she turned away. 
 
 He was at her side in a moment, and gazing down 
 upon her with genuine, tender pleading in his eyes. 
 
 " Don't say that, dearest ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 "Who gave you the right to call me that?" she re- 
 torted. 
 
 "A power that bestows the right on whom it belongs." 
 5
 
 66 LOVE IS BLIND. 
 
 "Ah! and will you kindly tell me what power it is 
 that favors you so greatly ? " 
 
 " The power of love." 
 
 " Love! " Lou laughed a trifle scornfully. 
 
 "Love for yourself, or for Alma?" she questioned, 
 looking him fully in the face. 
 
 " You are cruel to say that," he returned. He cast a 
 hasty glance about them, and then bent his head until 
 his beard touched her cheek. 
 
 "Do you really think I care for Alma Burton?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " I hope so," she replied, without looking at him. 
 
 "You hope I do?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because you have made her care for you. Do you 
 think it is right to win a prize merely for the zest of the 
 pursuit, and then cast it off ?" 
 
 " No, I do not think it is right. It is a monstrous 
 wrong." 
 
 There was a suppressed vehemence in his tones, for 
 which Lou could not account. 
 
 She looked cautiously up into his face. But his glance 
 was fixed upon the deepening shadows, and she could 
 read nothing there. 
 
 " So do I," she said, speaking slowly. There was a 
 period of silence a silence full of vague meaning to 
 each. Was there an unconscious misunderstanding be- 
 tween them, or was Roy Blanchard fickle, as he seemed ? 
 
 " We seem to agree pretty well, in the matter of theory 
 and principal," he declared, at length, with an odd smile. 
 
 " I don't understand. I was not aware that we were 
 discussing ethics," she returned. 
 
 " I was, if you were not. I suppose your coincidence 
 of opinion was merely an evidence of your good nature 
 your desire to please. I can hardly believe that you 
 really agree with me in this matter." 
 
 " I wish you would be. a little more plain, Mr, Blanch.
 
 LOVE IS BLIND. 67 
 
 ard. Your gravity is a trifle appalling, in view of my 
 ignorance of what it is all about." 
 
 " "We were speaking of winning prizes only to cast 
 
 you suggested the subject, but perhaps you were think, 
 ing of something else at the time." 
 
 " Oh, yes." She laughed then, perhaps to hide some 
 other emotion. 
 
 ""We settled that question, did we not?" she added. 
 
 " Yes. As I said, we agreed upon theory. But I 
 fear that you believe as I do out of deference rather than 
 from your heart. Certainly, in practice you sadly con- 
 tradict your declared principle." 
 
 " So you think I'm not sincere?" she asked, looking up 
 at him. There was a peculiar light in her eyes. It 
 strongly resembled repressed anger. 
 
 " I fear you are not. If you are, then you are fickle. 
 I believe I had rather have you the latter, for insincerity 
 in a woman is the worst of attributes worse than an 
 ugly temper." 
 
 This was deliberately spoken, as though he were play- 
 ing a card upon which a game was to be won or lost. 
 
 She stepped quickly away from him and then paused, 
 facing him, in a pretty, spirited attitude. Her arms 
 were flung upward, and her white fingers clasped above 
 her head. In the gathering gloom she looked like a 
 statue which Roy had once seen in a gallery of art. 
 
 "What a moralist you are, to be sure!" she cried 
 " Do you know," she added, with fine sarcasm, " that 
 you used the Jvery phrases, just now, that I once heard 
 from the lips of a very good preacher? Perhaps you 
 heard the same sermon. But I had rather not believe 
 you a plagiarist. Such fine sentiments lose their force 
 when sounded by an echo." 
 
 It was Roy's turn to show irritation. He was sensi- 
 tive, and her scorn stung him keenly. He looked at her 
 in silence for a moment. But he repressed the sharp re- 
 tort that rose to his lips.
 
 68 LOVE 18 BLIND. 
 
 " I saw you weeping the other day for a cause that im- 
 pelled me to admire you more than ever before," he 
 slowly said. She looked at him, smiling, and he went 
 on, in the same measured tone: 
 
 " A swallow, sailing swiftly over the house, encoun- 
 tered a telephone wire in its flight, and fell upon the 
 ground with a broken wing, you saw it, and expressed 
 true feminine sympathy for the unfortunate creature. 
 And then, when Mr. Boynton took it up and with cold 
 mercy put it out of its misery, I saw tears in your eyes 
 tears which must have been prompted by tenderness." 
 
 He paused again. Then he added: 
 
 " And yet you seem to delight in inflicting pain upon 
 me." 
 
 " You are not a swallow," she said, with rigid iciness. 
 " And I am not worthy so much consideration as even a 
 single sparrow?" 
 
 " Oh, yes rather more, I think. But you're not so 
 defenseless. If you were I might weep for you at 
 least, I'm sure I should if you new against a telephone 
 wire and broke a wing." 
 
 He did not smile, and she exclaimed: 
 
 " Don't be so solemn, Mr. Blanchard. "We can at least 
 be friendly, can't we?" 
 
 " Yes, we can be friendly," he answered in an altered 
 voice. " And as friends," he added, " we will try and 
 find Alma. I'm almost alarmed about her. And see 
 it is going to rain again." 
 
 He drew her hand within his arm unresisted, and in 
 silence they turned down a narrow path that led to the 
 zigzag road. 
 
 "So you think Alma likes me?" he presently ques- 
 tioned. 
 
 " Doesn't your vanity tell you?" she returned. 
 
 " I have no vanity." 
 
 " I beg pardon I know better, of course. I dare say 
 you fancy yourself a sort of a Caliban, too ugly to be
 
 LOVE 18 BLIND. 69 
 
 looked upon without causing sensations of repulsion in 
 the beholder. Of course you are not vain." 
 
 Her irony sounded good natured at least, and he 
 laughed in response. 
 
 " You overrate my modesty," he said. " I really am 
 aware that I'm tremendously good looking. Sometimes 
 I've doubted, but I have consulted my barber and my 
 tailor upon the subject, and they swear that I'm their hand- 
 somest customer. Thus am I reassured. Yet, when I'm 
 with the ladies, I find that they shrink from me when- 
 ever I make the least approach to seriousness. They like 
 me to make wit for them ; but I'm an ogre when I grow 
 sentimental." 
 
 " Now you excite my compassion," Miss "Wentworth 
 demurely remarked. 
 
 " I knew I should. You see, this condition of things 
 keeps up a terrible strain upon that portion of my brain 
 which manufactures wit." 
 
 " I beg pardon," she interrupted. 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " You are mistaken in a point of phrenology, I'm afraid. 
 I have been told that wit doesn't come from the brain. 
 It is said to be spontaneous, like sneezing." 
 
 Roy laughed at this, so heartily that his companion 
 joined in the outburst of mirth. 
 
 " Who told you that? " he asked. 
 
 " I think I read it. Or perhaps it was my wit that 
 prompted the fancy." 
 
 " Then I shall not credit the theory. I had rather be- 
 lieve that my brain is capable of something." 
 
 "It is a pleasing delusion isn't it?" she returned, 
 sympathetically. 
 
 " To me it is." 
 
 He then held up his hand, with a glance at the darken- 
 ing clouds. 
 
 " It is beginning to rain," he declared. 
 
 " And here is Alma," Lou exclaimed, as a tall, grace- 
 ful figure came toward them.
 
 70 LOVE is 
 
 "I I feared I was lost!" she breathlessly cried, ag 
 she came up to them. " I have been wandering about 
 for half an hour, and I began to think I had gotten a 
 long way from the hotel. Is it far? " she asked. 
 
 " They could hear you there if you should shout," Hoy 
 replied. 
 
 " We were looking for you," he added, " but would 
 have given up the search in a moment more." 
 
 " And left me to perish in the storm ? " she plaintively 
 questioned. 
 
 " No, not that. Lou might have done so, but I would 
 not. I should have looked for you at break of day." 
 
 They hastened toward the house, for the rain began 
 falling in huge drops. 
 
 They separated upon the veranda, and entered at dif- 
 ferent doors. 
 
 "We are friends?" Roy found opportunity to ask, as 
 he lingered an instant in the hall. 
 
 " Yes," Lou answered. And then Mrs. Boynton came 
 along, and Roy hastily left them. 
 
 " Did you see nothing of Chester? " Tracy questioned, 
 as her friend drew her into an adjacent room. 
 
 " No. Then he has not returned? " 
 
 " He has not returned," the young wife echoed. 
 
 Even as she spoke, the sound of excited voices in the 
 hall caused them to listen in vague alarm.
 
 MALICIOUS MuOfiV. 71 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 VAIN, MALICIOUS MOCKERY. 
 
 "It is as the air, invulnerable, 
 
 And our vain blows malicious mockery. 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 "Heavens! he is dead!" Philip Temple exclaimed, as 
 his gaze fell upon the pale, upturned face of Jason "Webb. 
 At the same time the assertion was contradicted, how- 
 ever; for the form moved, and as the match went out the 
 young farmer opened his eyes. 
 
 "No, I ain't dead!" he declared, rather faintly. 
 "Help me up, and we'll get out of this place!" he 
 addea. 
 
 Temple complied without uttering a word. "Webb 
 leaned heavily upon his arm, but they managed to work 
 their way back to the path. 
 
 " Now let me rest a bit," Jason said, breathlessly. 
 
 He seated himself upon the wet ground, with his back 
 against a small tree. Then 1'hilip found voice to speak. 
 
 " Tell me what happened? " he eagerly questioned. 
 
 " I was knocked down that's all! " was the terse re- 
 sponse. 
 
 "And your lantern ?" 
 
 " Smashed, same as Jim Rice's was. Only he hung 
 onto a part of his'n, and I didn't." 
 
 They were silent a moment. The water dripped upon 
 them, and around them. Philip glanced toward the spot 
 of mj^stery. With a shudder, he saw the mysterious, tan^ 
 tilizing light, bright, fixed, inviting their investigation. 
 
 " Is it there?" Webb asked. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " I've half a mind to go back there, and let 'em try 
 that trick over ag'in! " the young farmer exclaimed. 
 
 " I wouldn't if I were you." 
 
 " Going to give it up ? " 
 
 "Your not strong enough to do more to-night. "What
 
 72 VAIN, MALICIOtJS MOCKERY. 
 
 ever or whoever the being may be, it has a decided advan- 
 tage over us, and I don't like to run unnecessary risks. 
 "We'll try again sometime, with more to help us. We 
 will merely postpone our investigations to a more propi- 
 tious time." 
 
 " Maybe you're right. But I hate to give up. I don't 
 want the spook to laugh at me, and it won't, when I get 
 through with it." 
 
 Webb rose to his feet, and also glanced toward the 
 light. It still blinked through the interstices of the in- 
 tervening shrubbery. 
 
 The man stooped, groped in the path with his hand, 
 and then stood erect. 
 
 " I'm going to heave a stone at the darned thing, as a 
 parting salute!" he exclaimed. 
 
 He suited his action to the word. The^ sharp click of the 
 missile as it struck the perpendicular rock sounded" dis- 
 tinctly. And the light disappeared! 
 
 " Put his eye out, didn't 1? " Webb exclaimed trium- 
 phantly. " Now I guess we'll go home. I've got a 
 bunch on my head growing big's a hen's-egg." he added, 
 as they started toward the cottage. 
 
 " Did you see nothing before you were struck? " Tem- 
 ple asked. 
 
 " Not a thing. Whoever played the trick stood be- 
 hind, or above me, I can't say which." 
 
 " Was there anything ghostly about it ?" 
 
 " I can't say. Never had any personal experience 
 with 'em, unless this is a ghost. JBut the rap I received 
 was pretty substantial." 
 
 They continued to discuss the remarkable adventure 
 until they reached the cottage. And there they were re- 
 ceived with unmistakable relief by Jenny, who had grown 
 white-faced with apprehension. 
 
 There the subject was discussed again in all its points. 
 And when there was nothing more that could be said con- 
 cerning it, they each in turn related ghost stories which
 
 VAIN, MALICIOUS MOCKERY. 73 
 
 they had heard, as people do when stimulated by a fresh 
 experience. 
 
 In the morning the rain had ceased. It dawned cool 
 and delightful, and Philip Temple was out in good season. 
 
 He accompanied Webb to the scene of their late adven- 
 ture, and there they found the broken lantern, just as it 
 had fallen from Jason's hand. The glass globe was shat- 
 tered, arid the metal considerably dented. 
 p; " They hit it with a rock, I should say," Temple de- 
 clared, after a careful examination of the implement. 
 
 " I guess they hit me with one, too," declared his com- 
 panion. 
 
 They proceeded to make a thorough exploration of the 
 premises. But without significant result. 
 
 " Nothing here in daytime, jest as I told you," Jason 
 reiterated. 
 
 "There are rocks, and plenty of thickets to serve as 
 hiding-places," Terrible replied. 
 
 " Of course there is. But they don't signify anything. 
 It's the spooks, if there be any, that we want to catch." 
 
 " I don't know as I really care to catch one, if that is 
 the real character of the denizens of this place." 
 
 " Perhaps you're right I guess I don't neither." Ja- 
 son laughed good humoredly. Just then they were star- 
 tled by the sound of footsteps in the path. 
 
 "Hulloa who comes now?" the young farmer ex- 
 claimed. The person approaching was a tall, lank indi- 
 vidual, with thin, " sandy " whiskers and moustache, and 
 very large eyes. In truth, the man's eyes were the most 
 prominent of his features. " Jim Rice, sure as I live," 
 Webb declared, as they came forth upon the path and 
 confronted the new-comer. 
 
 There was no introduction. Temple had not seen this 
 man before, yet Rice knew the former to be his neigh- 
 bor's " city boarder." 
 
 " Looking for my hoss," he announced, in a some- 
 what nasal tone. 
 
 Temple thought he ought to be able to see the animal if
 
 anybody could, with such eyes. But he didn't voice this 
 mental comment. 
 
 " Lost him?" Jason questioned. 
 
 "Yes. Jumped out of the pastur' I guess. Found 
 one of the bars broke last night. Trackea him up this 
 way, but somehow I can't see what become of him. The 
 ground was soft yesterday, you know, on account of the 
 rain, and I ought to be able to track the critter if I ever 
 could. But after he struck this path, back here a piece, I 
 can't find a sign of a hoof-print/' 
 
 " Wa . he shod ?" Webb asked, thoroughly interested in 
 the misfortune of his neighbor. 
 
 " He had old shoes on, the corks 'bout gone. He was 
 sort of run down with the spring and summer work, you 
 know, so I thought t'other day I'd turn him out for a 
 week or so. But, as I told my wife, I'd no idea the 
 critter'd got life eno igh left to try to get out of the pas- 
 tur'. But he's gona and done it. And it's queer he 
 didn't make straight for the barn. I didn't s'pose he'd 
 go out of sight of that if he had the whole county to range 
 in." 
 
 Jim Rice had a genuine countryman's prolixity in the 
 narration of his tale. It occurs to us now, that country 
 people are seldom in so great a rush in anything they do 
 as even the most indolent of our city residents appear to 
 be. 
 
 " I've seen nothing of your horse, Jim nor his tracks 
 either," Jason declared. " Maybe," he added, " he's got 
 into some confounded place he can't get out of. Pretty 
 rough in some places along the side of the mountain 
 here." 
 
 " I'd thought of that. Like enough he's broke a leg, 
 or his neck. Hope it's his neck if either, save killing the 
 beast," said Rice, philosophically. He looked askance at 
 Mr. Temp'e, who had occupied himself with looking along 
 the path for horse-tracks. 
 
 " He been that 'ere light, has he?" the man asked in a
 
 VAIN, MALICIOUS MoCKEftY. 75 
 
 whisper, which was as plainly audible to Philip as it was 
 to Jason. 
 
 " Yes, both of us did, last night," the other replied. 
 
 "Try to find out anything, did ye?" 
 
 " We tried a little." 
 
 " What did ye make out? " 
 
 " Got my lantern broke, and a good rap on my head, 
 that laid me out straighter'n a string for a few minutes." 
 
 " You don't say! " If possible Jim Rice's eyes became 
 fully a size larger, and he glanced somewhat apprehen- 
 sively over his shoulder. 
 
 "How did you git out of the scrape?" he eagerly 
 questioned. 
 
 " Mr. Temple was with me, and he helped me back 
 here to the path. Then we went home." 
 
 " And what does he think on't? Or don't he say? He 
 don't look likely to be scare't at his shadder. Looks 
 pretty shrewd, I say." 
 
 This was spoken so loud that Philip accepted it as an 
 undoubted compliment. He came toward them : he had 
 something in his hand. 
 
 " Here's a horse-shoe, which I found yonder," he said. 
 
 Rice took it, examined it critically, and then exclaimed: 
 
 " That came off my horse's left fore-foot, sure's I live. 
 There's where I filed it, t'other day, 'cause it got wore 
 so one-sided. You've got sharp eyes, mister, if it isn't 
 rude to say it." 
 
 " The shoe lay upon a flat rock. There were no tracks 
 near it. Possibly your horse has taken wings. I can't 
 account for the absence of tracks in any other way,'' 
 Temple said. 
 
 "I've seen a horse-^y," Jim Rice declared, with a 
 shrewd wink at Jason, and a strong emphasis upon the 
 last word of the compound. The laugh with which he 
 greeted his own wit would have betrayed the joke, even 
 if it had not been too time-honored to create surprise on 
 the part of Philip. 
 
 " Excuse my joke Jarson knows I'm always poking
 
 76 VAltf, MALICIOUS MOCKER*. 
 
 fun," said the man, apologetically. At the same time 
 he suddenly sobered. " Yonder comes somebody she's 
 beckoning to you, Mr. Temple! " he exclaimed. 
 
 Philip looked in the direction indicated, and saw Tracy 
 Boynton a short distance down the path. She was beck- 
 oning to him, as Jim Rice had said.
 
 FANCY'S FOND SUGGESTION. 77 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 FANCY'S FOND SUGGESTION. 
 
 " My soul to fancy's fond suggestion yields, 
 And roams romantic o'er her airy fields." 
 
 Byron. 
 
 As Philip advanced he saw that Mrs. Boynton was not 
 alone. Lou Wentworth had stepped out of the path to 
 gather a tuft of peculiar moss which had caught her eye. 
 
 " What has happened ? " he asked, a trifle alarmed, for 
 Tracy's countenance was somewhat pale. 
 
 " Nothing serious to me, at least," she replied, with 
 a reassuring smile. " But an accident happened to Mr. 
 Stacy, a member of the fishing-party with whom Chester 
 went yesterday," she continued. 
 
 "An accident serious?" Philip asked. 
 
 " Rather, to him. It might have been to them all. 
 They went with a team, you remember there were four 
 of them. The place is some ten miles from here, and over a 
 rough, somewhat lonely road. As they were starting upon 
 their return, their horse had a fit, or something, and ran 
 them over an embankment. They were all considerably 
 bruised, except Chester. He is always fortunate, and 
 escaped without a scratch. And Mr. Stacy broke a leg, 
 and waa carried to a house near by. It is a lonely place, 
 and only an old man and a lame boy live there. So 
 Chester stayed at the house with Stacy, while the others 
 took the man's horse and came on to the village for the 
 doctor, and thence to the hotel. Chester sent word that 
 he should stop with Stacy for a few days, and for you and 
 me to come and keep him company. He says it would 
 be shabby to leave Mr. Stacy among total strap gers 
 they say, you know, that he hasn't a living relation in 
 the world and that we can amuse ourselves there for a 
 few days as well as here. It will be genuine rusticating, 
 you see,"
 
 78 FANCY'S FOND SUGGESTION. 
 
 Mrs. Boynton told her story rapidly, and uninter- 
 ruptedly 
 
 "And Mr. Boynton sent for me to come?" Philip 
 questioned. 
 
 " Yes he was very particular about that. So you 
 see he has taken a fancy to you, after all! You will go?" 
 
 " Of course, I shall not refuse to act the good Sa- 
 maritan. And when do we start?" 
 
 " Right away, or as soon as we can get ready. It 
 won't make any difference with the Webbs, will it? " 
 
 " I think not. I've paid a week's board in advance, 
 so they'll be nothing out of pocket, at any rate." He 
 hesitated, and then laughed. 
 
 " But this is rather a sudden change of base," he ex- 
 claimed. " Such changes are always coming to me, and 
 they doubtless always will. I'm the son of mystery and 
 romance.'' 
 
 He went back to acquaint his host of his new plans, 
 and then returned to the ladies. 
 
 " I will go to the cottage to make a few preparations," 
 he said. 
 
 " We will call for you as we come along," Lou de- 
 clared. "And mind,'' she said, shaking her forefinger 
 in solemn emphasis, " if you are not ready when we 
 come along we shall go on and leave you." 
 
 "And who, pray, are 'we'? " Philip questioned. 
 
 " Roy Blancnard and Lou are to go with us, of course," 
 Tracy replied. 
 
 " I shall be ready and waiting for you long before you 
 arrive," said Temple, raising his hat and turning away. 
 
 " We'll investigate this mystery in a few days I won't 
 abandon it, you may be sure," he said, to Jason, as he 
 passed the latter, wno was still discussing with Rice the 
 subject of the missing horse. 
 
 Philip made his preparations for departure with a zest 
 that was strangely keen. The depression under which 
 he had labored the night before had entirely disappeared; 
 and when the open beach-wagon, containing Roy, Lou
 
 FANCY'S FOND SUGGESTION. 79 
 
 and Mrs. Boynton appeared, he had been impatiently 
 waiting for half an hour. 
 
 To drive over a country road upon a cool, moist morn- 
 ing, with the sunshine, sylvan shade and bird-melody all 
 around, is to enjoy life in all its sweetness and beauty. 
 And when charming, vivacious company is added, what 
 more can be desired? 
 
 The horse was a great, clumsy animal, with limbs like 
 small logs of wood, and nearly as stiff, and they lum- 
 bered over the crooked road at a monotonously measured 
 pace. Roy applied the whip, and used all the persuasive 
 eloquence at his command, in the hope to induce a little 
 quicker pace upon the level portions of the road. 
 
 But language and whip were alike unappreciated by 
 the beast. 
 
 " It is no use it will be broad noon before we shall 
 get to our destination," Roy exclaimed, in despair, 
 
 "Chester will think we've wandered from the right 
 road," Tracy remarked. 
 
 "Or that we're not coming at all," suggested Lou. 
 And yet it was plain that she was not very unhappy, for 
 she had insisted upon sitting with Roy on the front seat, 
 and her face was fairly radiant with pleasure. 
 
 Philip sat in silence, occasionally glancing into the 
 face of Mrs Boynton It was very pleasant to have her 
 so near him, and he permitted himself to indulge in the 
 contemplation of fanciful impossibilities. Had he not 
 come into a new existence, which was to permit him to 
 remain always by the side of this, the only woman he 
 ever loved? 
 
 If it should only turn out, in some impossible way, 
 that she were Tracy Sherman still, and that they were 
 lovers, living in a dream, as of oldl 
 
 He gazed idly at the green trees and rock;/ pastures 
 as they passed them, and permitted his fancies to run 
 riot. All the while Lou and Roy were chatting, 
 exchanging flashes of wit. Yet he could not have told 
 a word spoken by either of them. Their speech was as
 
 80 FANCY'S FOND SUGGESTION. 
 
 meaningless as the twitter of birds and murmur oi 
 brooks. The earlier absurd fancies passed, and uncon- 
 sciously others took their place. What if Tracy wert 
 Chester Boynton's wife? Could they not be lovers still' 
 Marriage is a thing of earth; love is from heaven. Shall 
 the lower triumph over, and crush out, the higher? Can- 
 any laws of man's making confine, or circumscribe the 
 higher, sweeter laws of God? Can he not love Tracy 
 Boynton, if he wills it and may she not love him, if 
 her heart so prompts? Would not her marriage to 
 Chester Boynton be the error of which she is guilty, 
 rather than in obeying the truer, but later promptings of 
 her heart? Somehow, Philip constantly thought of them 
 as unhappy together. He could not analyze nis convic- 
 tion; yet it was none the less strong. It was not a wise 
 match. They were unsuited to each other. She was 
 imaginative, artistic, vivacious, impulsive. Mr. Boynton 
 was practical, analytical, cool, and lacking in those finer 
 perceptions that characterized his beautiful wife. It was 
 an unwise choice in both; both were unhappy, and their 
 discontent would increase as the years passed. How 
 monstrous that Tracy should be unhappy all her life 
 time with tins man, when he could have rendered her 
 existence one long, sweet dream. 
 
 All this, and much more flitted through the brain of 
 Philip Temple. It is doubtful if he realized the true 
 character of his own reflections. Peihaps he only in- 
 dulged them, as we are all. too prone to indulge wild, 
 wanton fancies without thinking that they were dan- 
 gerous, like the delicious intoxications of Lasheesh. We 
 believe that the true secret of living uprightly lies in the 
 habit of control and training of one's own imagination. 
 Men think of wrong doing permit their idle thoughts to 
 linger upon sinful possibilities which they have no 
 thought of ever realizing, and thus is the soul's integrity 
 lost. The temptation comes ; the dream becomes a real- 
 ity ; and at last the world knows what God has known all
 
 FANCY'S FOND SUGGESTION, 81 
 
 along that he who was thought to be good, was really 
 evil. 
 
 Once or twice Tracy spoke, and then Philip responded, 
 and idle remarks were exchanged. Yet these did not in- 
 terrupt the train of his own reflections. They ran on 
 and on, unmindful of time and distance. 
 
 .But he was aroused at last in a rather startling 
 manner. The vehicle came abruptly to a halt, and Hoy 
 Blanchard spoke. 
 
 " I'm going to find out where we arc before we go an- 
 other yard ! " lie exclaimed. 
 
 They were at a narrow point of the road, and before 
 them lay a steep hill. In truth, the way had constantly 
 grown more hilly, and the road less frequented in appear- 
 ance as they proceeded. 
 
 But here was a house. A small, wood-colored dwell- 
 ing, with a big barn close by, and a flock of turkeys 
 chattering and gobbling in the yard. 
 
 "On the wrong road, are we?" Philip exclaimed, 
 aroused from his reverie. 
 
 Mrs. Boynton started, and glanced at him in a half be- 
 wildered fashion. Of what had she been thinking? he 
 asked himself. 
 
 " We've been on the road for about three hours," Roy 
 declared, deliberately alighting from the vehicle. 
 
 " It is now nearly one o'clock p. m.," he added, glanc- 
 ing at his watch, " and we ought to have walked the dis- 
 tance in two hours." 
 
 "I know we're lost!" Lou exclaimed, in ludicrous dis- 
 may. Her blue eyes looked from face to face of her com 
 panions. 
 
 " We shall have a delightful time finding each other, 
 at any rate," laughed Roy. 
 
 "What I'm thinking of," he continued, " is the possi- 
 bility of losing my dinner This country style of eating 
 has got me in a terrible condition, and if I don't have 
 dinner promptly at twelve meridian I feel as though I 
 was friendless, as it were. 
 
 6
 
 82 FANCY'S FOND SUGGESTION. 
 
 " There are lots of blueberries beside the road," Lou 
 declared, as though she were figuring upon the possibility 
 of their being compelled to subsist upon this diminutive 
 fruit for an indefinite length of time. 
 
 " Horse-chestnuts, too, only they're not ripe," Mrs. 
 Boynton demurely suggested. 
 
 " They aren't good to eat, are they?" Lou seriously 
 returned. 
 
 " They are good for horses, I suppose. At least, it is 
 said they used to grind the nuts for them, years ago." 
 This piece of information came from Philip. 
 
 At this moment they espied a man in shirt-sleeves 
 coming down from the barn. 
 
 Roy greeted him with something of a flourish. 
 
 " This is not Mr. Gridley is it ? " he questioned, defer- 
 entially. 
 
 " Hope not," the man retorted, with some vehemence. 
 
 " D'ye think 1 looked like him ? " he demanded, with 
 a grimace; " 'cause if you did, I'd go straight and shoot 
 myself, sure's I live." 
 
 it was evident that Hoy's suggestion was taken as an 
 insult by the man in shirt-sleeves. Gridley was the 
 name of the one to whose dwelling the unfortunate 
 Stacy was taken, and hence it was his dwelling of which 
 our friends were in quest. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," Roy hastened to say^ " I never 
 saw Mr. Gridley, and consequently could not have mis- 
 taken you for him. But it is his house which we wish 
 to find. I infer that you know where he lives?" 
 
 The man laughed loudly, slapping his knees with his 
 hands in the excessiveness of his mirth. 
 
 "Why, man! " he exclaimed, controling himself, "you 
 ain't within eight mild of Gridley's! Ho, ho! This 
 here ain't the right road, and you're headed in the wrong 
 direction." 
 
 Roy and Lou, and Philip and Tracy looked at each 
 other in consternation.
 
 THE STREAM OF DESTINY. 83 
 
 CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 THE STREAM OF DESTINY. 
 
 "But who can torn the stream of destiny?" 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 " "We're almost as far from our destination as we were 
 when we started," Miss Wentworth exclaimed, breaking 
 the dismayed pause. 
 
 "And no prospect of dinner," supplemented Roy, 
 feebly. 
 
 " Perhaps this man * puts up ' in such an emergency 
 as this," Philip suggested, but not audibly to the pocsi- 
 ble host. 
 
 "Are we sure that it would not be a greater misfortune 
 to us if he should consent to feed us, than if he refused?" 
 Tracy inquired, glancing critically at the man's shirt- 
 sleeves, which were not of the whitest. The object of 
 this discussion slouched nearer, evidently suspicious that 
 he was entitled to know what they were saying. 
 
 " How far are we from the hotel on the mountain 
 the Yinton Retreat, as it is called?" Roy questioned. 
 
 "From there, be ye?" the man returned, eyeing them 
 with new interest. 
 
 " City boarders, eh?" he added. 
 Yes." 
 
 " Lot of 'em stopping there, I hear. The man that 
 runs the place, Caleb Yinton, lived in the house yonder 
 when he was a boy. Now he's rich made his money 
 off city chaps like you, I expect." There was unmis- 
 takable spite in this declaration. There was a pause. 
 " You wanted to know how fur 'tis from here to Yin- 
 ton's?" he said, as though it had but just occurred to 
 him that he had been asked a question. 
 
 " I had some curiosity to know how far we had trav- 
 eled," Roy replied. 
 " Fifteen mild, / call it. Some say it's sixteen That
 
 84: THE STKEAM OF DESTINY. 
 
 hoss'll never take you back there 'thout resting up a bit. 
 Pretty good load, four on ye, though the wimmen are 
 light, I should say. Married folks, be ye?" 
 
 "Yes." Roy uttered the falsehood with a brazen face, 
 and refused to see the energetic pantomime of Lou 
 "Wentworth, or her furious frowns. 
 
 " I don't see but we shall have to ask you to accommo- 
 date us with a lunch, and a little feed for our horse, 
 Mr. 1 forget your name?" 
 
 " Massy sakes ! I couldn't do it my woman, you 
 know not prepared bate yer horse, but ' : 
 
 The man's remonstrance was all dashes, and he began 
 stepping about as though excessively flustered. 
 
 But with an assumption of deafness, Roy turned to 
 the wagon and reached up his arms to assist Lou to 
 alight. 
 
 " He says he can't accommodate us," ghe exclaimed, 
 drawing back. 
 
 " He'll^hink better of it when Mr. Temple and I show 
 our pocket-books," Roy replied, with provoking gravity. 
 Philip had alighted, and was assisting Tracy to do so. 
 Therefore Lou had to drown her scruples and yield to the 
 inevitable. 
 
 The farmer, seeing there was no escape, hastened 
 toward the house to warn his " woman " for some 
 reason countrymen of his stamp seem to have a stubborn 
 antipathy to the term wife, when speaking of their better- 
 halves. "We wonder why? 
 
 Roy led the horse toward the big barn before alluded 
 to. rhilip followed the vehicle, intent upon rendering 
 assistance in putting up the horse. Tracy and Lou 
 moved with faltering steps toward the house. 
 
 Mr. Skelton, which proved later to be the name of 
 their involuntary host, presently appeared, and hustled 
 toward them. 
 
 " Go right into the house," he exclaimed, hospitably. 
 "My woman'll see to ye. Make yourselves to home. 
 We're poor folks, and don't often have a chance to enter
 
 THE STREAM OF DESTItfY. 85 
 
 tain grand people, but we'll do the best we can. My 
 woman says you'll have to put up with the best we've 
 got, and call it good enough." 
 
 They complied with his invitation without hesitation. 
 At the door they were met by a stout, red-faced woman, 
 whose eyes were small and blinked very rapidly, as 
 though she were afraid of getting dust into them. Her 
 hair was in a " pug," and decidedly frowzy about her 
 forehead; and the calico gown which she wore was faded 
 to a most uncertain hue and figure. 
 
 Tracy and Lou were ushereu into a meagerly furnished 
 room, which, however, was evidently the best in the 
 house. The walls were adorned by colored lithographs 
 in square frames ; and the apartment was pervaded by a 
 musty odor, as though it were kept closed to air and sun- 
 light except upon special occasions, like the present. 
 
 Mrs. Skelton rather hastily disposed of shade-hats and 
 wraps, and then precipitately tumbled photograph albums 
 and stereoscopic views into the laps of her guests. 
 
 " You can be lookin' them over while I'm gettin' din- 
 ner," she declared, and in another moment, like a mist, 
 she had vanished. 
 
 It turned out that, in stopping at this house for enter- 
 tainment, they had not been wholly unfortunate. The 
 dinner, promiscuously served though it was, was abund- 
 ant and wholesome. 
 
 " Treat ye rather better at this time of year than if 
 you'd come in on us sudden in dead of winter," Mr. 
 Skelton declared at the well-spread table, after his 
 " woman " had made the customary excuses. " Plenty of 
 green sass in the garden helps along when a body don't 
 live nigh a village and market. My woman and I 'bout 
 live on't from the time it comes along till the frosts 
 come." 
 
 The guests keenly enjoyed the novelty of the situation. 
 The Skeltons, who had only been informed of Phillip's 
 and Roy's names, addressed Tracy and Lou as Mrs. 
 Temple and Mrs. Blanchard, which error could only be
 
 86 THE STREAM OF DESTINY. 
 
 explained by declaring the falsity of Roy's declaration. 
 
 After all, what did it matter? " It is as it should be! " 
 Philip reflected. He sat beside Mrs. Boynton at the 
 table. The fancies which he had indulged during the 
 long ride hither were resumed, although he frequently 
 took part in the conversation. He glanced at Tracy 
 more than once; and marked, with a thrill, that her pal- 
 lor which he had noticed in the morning had disap- 
 peared. 
 
 Her face was daintily flushed now; there was a new, 
 happy light in her eyes; and her laughter was sweeter 
 and more joyous than ever before it seemed. 
 
 The evidence of her pleasure acted upon Philip Tem- 
 ple's senses like the stimulus of new wine. 
 
 In the meanwhile a plan of procedure had been agreed 
 upon. Mr. Skelton had volunteered to drive Roy and 
 Lou back to the hotel with his team, while Philip and 
 Tracy were to go on to Gridley's with the horse which 
 had brought them hither. 
 
 " We can keep along together till we get to the road 
 where you turn off," Skelton declared. " From there 
 it'll be a straight road, so you can't miss your way." 
 
 This was addressed to Philip and Tracy. 
 
 " If you should miss your way, what would Mr. " 
 
 Lou's remark was cut short by a look from Roy. 
 
 " Don't betray my duplicity at this late hour by men- 
 tioning that she is going to see her husband," Jie whis- 
 pered, audibly only to Lou. " For, he added, " they'll 
 think then she has two husbands mormonism reversed!" 
 
 A deeper hue had mantled Mrs. Boynton's face. Philip 
 noticed that all she said, and her every action, were seem- 
 ingly mechanical, as though her thoughts were deeply 
 absorbed. 
 
 It was well into the afternoon before they were once 
 more upon the road. 
 
 Mr. Skelton, with Roy and Lou led the way, with the 
 open buggy and white horse belonging to the farmer.
 
 THE STREAM Of DESTINY. 87 
 
 They reached the road which branched from the main 
 hignway, and where the two teams must separate. 
 
 " Keep straight ahead," Skelton called back, as they 
 halted for a moment at the junction of roads. " It ain t 
 more'n five mild furder, mostly up-hill, though, git there 
 by sundown. Remember, a red house with yellow blinds. 
 Only one like it within ten mild, so ye can't miss it, on- 
 less ye shut your eyes. G'lang Sam!" The latter to the 
 white horse ; and with the silvery adieu of Lou and Tracy 
 sounding upon the sweet, still air, the two vehicles sep- 
 arated. And even the sound of the receding clatter of 
 Skelton's buggy soon died away as Philip and his com- 
 panion went further upon their divergent course. 
 
 The first mile was passed in silence. Philip seemed 
 occupied with driving; while Tracy watched the trees, 
 and fields as they flitted by. It was a perfect day. The 
 heat of the sun was tempered by a gentle, yet cool breeze 
 from the northwest. There was a num of insects in the 
 air; the trees rustled and nodded as they passed; birds 
 twittered and sang, in the same happy way which has 
 been theirs for thousands of years. 
 
 Tracy was first to speak. 
 
 " I fear Chester will be concerned about us," she said. 
 
 There was a nervous tremor in her sweet tones; yet 
 the dainty tints upon her cheeks, and the happy light in 
 her eyes had not disappeared. 
 
 " So you were thinking of him?" Philip questioned. 
 
 The words were prompted by a sudden, jealous pang. 
 
 " It is time he was thought of, isn't it?" 
 
 He did not answer at once, and she added: 
 
 " To tell the truth, I have scarcely thought, until this 
 moment, that he must greatly wonder at our non-appear- 
 ance. I doubt not that he is worrying." 
 
 " Then you have not been reflecting upon Mr. Boynton's 
 possible misery during your long silence ?" Philip per- 
 sisted. 
 
 There was an eagerness in his tones that caused her to 
 ook at him quickly.
 
 THE STREAM OF DESTINY. 
 
 "Why do you ask that?" she returned, again averting 
 her face. 
 
 " Because I noticed that you have seemed in profound 
 thought all the while." 
 
 " My thoughts have not been so profound as they ap- 
 pear, perhaps," she replied. 
 
 " They were certainl~ absorbing in their nature like 
 mine." 
 
 "Like yours?" 
 
 She glanced at him quickly again, coloring. 
 
 "Yes, like mine," he persisted. They were at the base 
 of a long, steep hill, which the horse began to ascend with 
 slow reluctance. There was a small stream at this point, 
 spanned by a narrow bridge. The brook was swollen in 
 volume from the recent rains, and a small, level tract oj 
 land upon each side of the road was flooded. A little 
 later this fact was recalled by Philip with significance ; 
 but now his attention was absorbed by other thoughts. 
 
 "Then you have been in a reverie?" she asked, 
 curiously. 
 
 " Yes, ever since we started this morning. It was 
 more of a dream than a reverie, however, for it was full 
 of strange, impossible fancies." 
 
 The horse moved very slowly up the slope. But neither 
 of them noticed the fact. Tracy's solicitude for her hus- 
 band's ease of mind seemed to have been forgotten. Or 
 perhaps it did not occur to her that a better speed was 
 possible. 
 
 " Aren't we too mature to indulge fancies which are 
 impossible of fulfillment?" Tracy questioned. 
 
 " I suppose we are. But we are never satisfied with 
 anything short of the goal we have hoped and prayed 
 for." 
 
 " Then you have been thinking of unfulfilled hopes?" 
 
 "Yes. And you?" 
 
 She felt that he was looking at her now, and the con- 
 sciousness of his scrutiny caused her eyes to droop. 
 
 "None of us can expect the full fruition of our
 
 THE STREAM OF toESTlNY. 89 
 
 hopes," sne said. Her voice was very low; there was a 
 trace of suppressed emotion in its tones. 
 
 "Why not?" he returned. She did not speak. A 
 thrush by the roadside broke in with its sweet song. A 
 moment later he asked again: 
 
 "Why not so far as this life is concerned, I mean?" 
 he exclaimed. 
 
 " I do not understand your meaning, I think." 
 
 " I mean, that everything in the world is ours. If we 
 are not successful in life, it is by our faults, or indolence. 
 If we were only unfailing in judgment, we might win all 
 that we strive for. It is our errors that cost us the 
 fruition of our hopes. All things are possible when we 
 begin; it is our mistakes that make them impossible." 
 
 " That is true," she said. 
 
 " Then why may we not expect what we may attain?" 
 he continued. 
 
 " We are not begining life now," she replied. 
 
 He made an impatient gesture. 
 
 " That is true with me I have never begun to live," 
 he exclaimed, his voice low with suppressed feeling. 
 
 " You haven't begun? " 
 
 She looked straight into his face as she asked this. 
 The expression there startled her, and again she fixed her 
 gaze upon the distant landscape. 
 
 " No, I have not begun to live," he persisted, in the 
 same low, passionate tones. " I thought I had done so 
 once five years ago. But it was a false beginning. Fate 
 interposed, and all I had gained worth living for was 
 snatched away." 
 
 There was an interval of silence. Philip's pulses beat 
 tumultuously. Why was he saying this to Tracy Boyn- 
 ton, he asked himself. He did not desire her sympathy 
 in a misfortune of which she had been the cause, lie 
 did not wish her to apologize for marrying Chester Boyn- 
 ton instead of himself. Such expression from her would 
 have offended him, rather than otherwise.
 
 90 TfiE 8TEEAM OP DESTINY. 
 
 Then why did he speak thus? "Was it to test her? to 
 see if she had regrets? 
 
 He half expected an indignant response from her. He 
 had said what he had no right to say under the circum- 
 stances, and she should have rebuked him for doing so. 
 Yet she did not. She was silent for several moments 
 suspenseful moments to him. 
 
 Then she said, speaking slowly: 
 
 " Perhaps fate was more kind to you than " 
 
 He hastened to nil the pause. 
 
 " Than to you? " he breathlessly exclaimed. 
 
 She faced him then, mingled pain, rebuke, pleading, 
 expressed in her eyes, and upon her quivering lips. 
 
 " You have no right to say that ! " she cried. She 
 seemed on the point of saying more, but repressed the 
 impulse. 
 
 They were at the top of the hill. Before them lay a 
 steep descent. Philip, involuntarily glancing down the 
 slope, and uttered an ejaculation of dismay.
 
 CHAPTER XY. 
 
 A THOUSAND FEARS. 
 
 " She 'gan to cast in her mlsdoubtf ul mind 
 A thousand fears 1" 
 
 The highway, wherever the slopes were steep, had been 
 badly gullied by the rains. The rain of the previous night, 
 succeeding that of the day and night before, had aggre- 
 gated a remarkably heavy fall. 
 
 But it was not the prominent pebbles and gullies which 
 caused Philip Temple to draw the horse to a halt upon 
 the brow of the hill, and utter that exclamation of dis- 
 may. 
 
 Below lay a broad meadow, which was now overflowed 
 as far as it was visible to the eye. And at the base of 
 the hill a river crossed under the road. There had been, 
 or ought to have been, a bridge, but none was there. The 
 stone abutments were there. There were a few timbers, 
 held in place doubtless by strong spikes. But between the 
 abutments, dividing the road, yawned a broad chasm, 
 through which hurried the black river, risen almost to the 
 level of the road itself. 
 
 There was no mistaking the situation. The bridge had 
 been carried away since it was crossed by Boynton's com- 
 panions the night before. To cross now were an utter 
 impossibility. 
 
 " Why do you stop? " Tracy demanded. She had not 
 noticed the barrier at the foot of the hill. 
 
 " Look below," Temple replied, pointing toward the 
 bridgeless river. 
 
 " The bridge washed away ! " she cried. 
 
 " Evidently." 
 
 " But how are we to cross? " 
 
 " That is a problem which I would like to be spared 
 the responsibility of solving."
 
 92 A THOUSAND FEARS. 
 
 " We must cross in some way. We must! " 
 
 Her utterance seemed prompted by an impulse akin 
 to apprehension. 
 
 Philip experienced a sense of contrition. He realized 
 that his recent language had been equivocal ; that it may 
 have been interpreted by his companion to have meant 
 more than he had intended. And in consequence she 
 was now half afraid of him. He had, in a measure, for- 
 feited her confidence. 
 
 The realization cost him a keen pang. How could he 
 prove to her that he held her honor, the purity of her 
 soul, dearer than his own life? There were no terms in 
 which he could fitly express his feeling. He could only 
 strive to regain what he had lost by falling back upon 
 the genuine chivalrous frankness of his nature. 
 
 There is nothing so efficacious for dispelling faint dis- 
 trust as a change of tone, from seriousness, with its dan- 
 ger, to humor. There is a relief in the change, too, 
 which is helpful to both. 
 
 ""We must cross, Mr. Temple," Tracy reiterated, as 
 her companion hesitated. 
 
 He looked at her and smiled. " So we must," he re- 
 plied. " But," he added, his smile broadening, " we 
 shall have to swim to do soi There's no other possible 
 way, because the chasm is too broad to leap across." 
 
 She compressed her lips; then covered her face with 
 her hands. 
 
 "Oh! what shall we do?" she cried. She almost 
 sobbed the appeal. 
 
 Philip started the horse, and they slowly descended 
 the hill. It was necessary to go slowly, because, at that 
 point, the highway was washed more dangerously than 
 at any other over which they had passed. 
 
 They reached the base of the slope; they once more 
 halted, this time close to the brink. The horse, sober 
 animal though he was, snorted and put back his ears at 
 sight of the black, eddying current, and its swishing 
 sound as it chafed its narrow bounds.
 
 A THOUSAND FEAKS. 93 
 
 " It looks as though they were going to begin repairs 
 at once," Philip remarked, as ne glanced across the 
 stream. For there, piled near the opening, was a load 
 of plank, and several heavy timbers. They were all new; 
 they had been placed there since the rain. 
 
 " But there is no one at work upon it," Tracy returned. 
 
 " They have probably gone back for more lumber." 
 
 "There is no telling when they may return." 
 
 "I suppose not. But it is evident that this is an 
 important road, and doubtless a temporary bridge will be 
 immediately built. If the workmen were only here it 
 wouldn't take them long to fix it so that we could get 
 across, horse and all. The animal is trusty, and would 
 cross a pretty shaky affair with a man at his head." 
 
 They were silent a moment. Then Philip alighted 
 and went to the edge of the bank. Then he listened. 
 
 "I believe I can hear wagon coming now," he de- 
 clared. 
 
 " If they would only place a plank across, I would go 
 over on that, and walk the rest of the distance," Tracy 
 returned, with feverish eagerness. 
 
 " You could not do that alone," he replied. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " It would not be prudent, upon this lonely road. We 
 can do no better than to wait. If no one comes to fix 
 the bridge we will go back to the house which we passed 
 a while ago." 
 
 " We might return to the hotel. That would be better 
 than to stop at a strange house." 
 
 "Better, if we could get there. But this horse is 
 pretty jaded already. It is seven or eight miles to the 
 Retreat, and even if the horse could traverse the distance, 
 we should go so slowly that it would be long after night- 
 fall when we should arrive. That is out of the ques- 
 tion." 
 
 She was silent again. Her distress could not be 
 concealed. Up to the present she had evinced no eager- 
 ness to reach their destination. But of a sudden, upon
 
 94: A THOUSAND FEARS. 
 
 discovery of the barrier to their progress, she seemed to 
 havegrown intensely, painfully anxious. 
 
 "Why don't they come?" she impatiently exclaimed, 
 after another brief silent interval. 
 
 Temple was still listening. Again he caught a faint 
 rumble, as of an approaching heavy wagon. But it 
 ceased again, and he half feared it was all but a freak of 
 his own imagination. 
 
 He glanced upward at the sky. It was clear and serene. 
 At least, there was no danger of the additional discomfort 
 of a sudden storm assailing them. 
 
 " Do you hear it? " Tracy asked, watching his face fur- 
 tively. 
 
 " I did, a moment ago." 
 
 " Isn't it upon another road ! " 
 
 " There is none near enough for the sound to reach us." 
 
 " It may not have been a wagon that you heard." 
 
 He laughed, to cheer her from the strained anxiety into 
 which she was sinking more deeply ever moment. 
 
 " Don't be so hopeless," he implored. " This isn't the 
 worst of all possible situations. Suppose it had happened 
 upon a sultry day, and a thunder storm came upon us? 
 Or, what if we were twenty miles from human habita- 
 tion; or there were wolves and bears to attack us; or sav- 
 ages concealed behind yonder trees, coveting our scalps ?" 
 
 She shivered, and then laughed, in a nervous, hysterical 
 way. 
 
 " Don't speak of those dreadful possibilities," she cried. 
 
 " I will not. I was only drawing a dark picture, that 
 you might look upon our situation less woefully. We're 
 not very badly off. We can go to a house in twenty min- 
 utes." 
 
 " But Chester he will worry. It is of him that I'm 
 thinking." 
 
 " He may not worry at all. He will suppose that four 
 of us started together, if we started at all ; and if we do 
 not arrive he will know that something detained us. If 
 it was anything serious he will expect to be informed. If
 
 A THOUSAND FEARS. 95 
 
 you were ill-, or injured, word would be gotten to Hm 
 somehow. You say he is cool and practical. TV hat 
 would concern you will not disturb him. He will laugh 
 at our adventure when he comes to hear of it. We can 
 laugh at it now. In fact, there doesn't seem to be any- 
 thing for us to do except to laugh." 
 
 Mrs. Boynton seemed somewhat relieved by her com- 
 panion's cheerfulness. It might have been his lightness 
 of demeanor, which most relieved her anxiety, however. 
 It dispelled that sense of vague, nameless danger which 
 his words inspired a short time before. 
 
 The sun was sinking toward the horizon. Already 
 long shadows were creeping across the road, growing 
 longer and darker as the moments passed. 
 
 At last Philip spoke again. 
 
 " We had better go back," he said. 
 
 "Whither?" 
 
 " To the house which we passed." 
 
 " And give up crossing to-night? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " What if the people should refuse to keep us over 
 night?" 
 
 " They would not turn us out doors." 
 
 " But we know nothing of their character. 
 
 " And they know nothing of ours so we shall be even 
 on that score." 
 
 He began backing the horse around. As he did so, 
 Tracy exclaimed: 
 
 "Hark!" 
 
 They listened. 
 
 This time there was no mistaking it. A wagon was 
 approaching a heavy loaded wagon, as was indicated by 
 the slow, ponderous rumble. 
 
 " It is coming this time, sure," they exclaimed in a 
 breath. In another moment the wagon came into view, 
 and drew up upon the opposite side of the chasm. 
 
 It was drawn by a yoke of oxen hence the slowness of
 
 96 A THOUSAND FEARS. 
 
 its approach. It was loaded with timber for the bridge, 
 and naif a dozen men -accompanied it. 
 
 The men flung off their coats and began deliberately to 
 unload. 
 
 "Halloo!" shouted Philip, approaching the banks of 
 the stream. 
 
 The men heard his shout; one of them came forward; 
 a tall, raw-boned man, with bushy, red whiskers. 
 
 " What yer want?" he demanded, staring at the young 
 man, as though the latter were a curious animal escaped 
 from a menagerie. 
 
 " We want to get across," Temple replied. 
 
 "Why don't ye, then?" the other retorted, with inso- 
 lent humor. 
 
 " I have a lady with me," Philip explained, with un- 
 relaxed dignity of demeanor, " and it is imperative that 
 she should cross. If you are going to build a tempo- 
 rary bridge, we will wait. If not, we will make some 
 other arrangement." 
 
 There was a space of silence. The men had all ceased 
 work. Some of them were exchanging comments in an 
 undertone. 
 
 " What do you say?" Philip demanded, impatiently. 
 
 " You can wait," the man replied. 
 
 "Are you going to build a bridge to-night?" 
 
 " We're goin' to try."- 
 
 " How long will it take you to get it so that I can lead 
 my horse ove.r?" 
 
 Stiddy?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " 'N hour or so. Twon't take long, I guess. We was 
 goin' to build a bridge that would stay, bet'wixt this and 
 to-morrow mornin'. This 'ere town don't build tempo- 
 rary 'fairs. Got sick of it. We'll work all night, and by 
 daylight there'll be a bridge here that you could drive a 
 steam engine over. Twon't take long to rig up suthin' 
 so's you can git aerost." 
 
 The other men had resumed work, with some show of
 
 A THOUSAND FEAES. 97 
 
 alacrity. Timbers were thrown across the chasm, and 
 spiked into place. All the while the bushy whiskered 
 man kept talking. 
 
 " Don't pay to put up no temporary bridges," he de- 
 clared, as though in response to an assertion that it did 
 pay. 
 
 " A temporary bridge has got to be safe; and you might 
 as well make it a good one while you're about it. This 
 road has got to be used every day. Main turnpike, you 
 see. If this bridge wa'n't built before to-morrow night 
 the devil would be to pay. Beggin' the lady's pardon for 
 what may sound like swearin' !" 
 
 He need not have apologized, for Mrs. Boynton did 
 not hear the " swearin' " nor any other part of his re- 
 marks, except so far as they concerned their immediate 
 needs. 
 
 The sun sank behind the hills. Twilight was settling 
 upon the scene, and the river, creeping with such swift 
 stealth between its narrow bounds, had grown inky in its 
 blackness. 
 
 The shadows were now black, also; and the forms of 
 the men busy upon the bridge, grew grotesque to the 
 vision. 
 
 Lanterns were lighted, to enable them to go on with 
 their work ; and gradually the white moonlight made itself 
 visble, casting a strange witchery over the scene. 
 
 Tracy alighted from the vehicle, and walked to and 
 fro with her companion, watching the men at their work, 
 the twinkling lights, the prismatic reflections upon the 
 water's surface, the white, changeful moonlight, the 
 wavering shadows. 
 
 But very few words passed between them. 
 
 The scene was strangely bewitching; a scene, and the 
 associations of which, was to linger in their memories 
 with peculiar vividness. They little thought how bitter 
 that memory was to become. 
 
 Philip's fancies were again stimulated; but he did not 
 indulge them as he had done before. 
 7
 
 98 A THOUSAND FEARS. 
 
 " I was mistaken in her, after all!" lie reflected. " She 
 loves her husband better than I thought. And yet " 
 
 He recalled her hesitancy; her failure to resent 
 promptly what he had said; her failure to declare, with 
 warmth, that the fruition of her hopes had come to her 
 as the wife of the man she loved. She had not said that. 
 Her manner and responses were vaguely equivocal. The 
 question yet remained unanswered. There was still 
 cause to suspect that she was unhappy disappointed. 
 That she, too, had indulged vain regrets. 
 
 The process of reasoning was simple, and everything 
 seemed to conspire toward a nattering conclusion flat- 
 tering to the dreams which Philip had been indulging. 
 The moonlight, with its witching influence; the presence 
 of Tracy, stimulating his love for her. For Temple, in 
 his own heart, had many times confessed that he did love 
 Tracy Boynton, as he had loved Tracy Sherman. How 
 could it be otherwise, he reasoned, when he had loved her 
 before her marriage, unless his heart were fickle? He 
 admitted that he had no right to evince his regard; but 
 what law could root out the deepest impulses his heart 
 had ever known? 
 
 " Might come over now if you're in a hurry," an- 
 nounced one of the laborers, breaking in upon his reflec- 
 tions. 
 
 " How quickly they have done the work," Tracy ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 Philip glanced at his watch. The hour was nine 
 o'clock. They had been at work nearly two hours upon 
 the structure. Yet to Tracy the time had seemed short 
 a fact that proved still more conclusively that Philip's 
 fancies were not without foundation. At least, his so- 
 ciety was agreeable to her; for together the time flew 
 swiftly, as it does upon the wings or love. 
 
 The horse and vehicle were led across the incomplete 
 structure; Temple and his companion again mounted 
 the seat; and a little later they drew up before a red 
 house, with yellow blinds.
 
 A THOUSAND FEARS. 99 
 
 At the door Mrs. Boynton was met by her husband. 
 He held a lamp in one hand ; and by its dull glow she 
 saw a fierce frown upon his countenance, such as she had 
 never seen there before. 
 
 " So you have come at last? " he exclaimed, in a tone 
 that was almost harsh in its coldness.
 
 100 CHESTER'S GREETING. 
 
 CHAPTER XYI. 
 
 CHESTER'S GREETING. 
 
 " Every sullen frown and bitter scorn 
 But fanned the fuel that too fast did burn." 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 To Chester Boynton's greeting his wife made no re- 
 sponse. He turned to enter, and she mutely followed. 
 She was led to a large, low-ceiled chamber, whose meager 
 furnishings and general dinginess bespoke the poverty 
 of their host. 
 
 Chester ushered her into the room, and then followed, 
 closing the door behind them. She faced him then ; her 
 cheeks were pale ; her glance matching his in coldness. 
 
 " Yes, I have come," she then said, her voice trem- 
 bling with half -repressed indignation. 
 
 "1 had about given you up," he returned, with a 
 slight smile which- was more offending to her sensitive 
 nature -than his frown had been. 
 
 " Then you had some hope of seeing me again?" she 
 asked, with tine scorn. 
 
 " ^gjT little, I confess. I see Mr. Blanchard and 
 Miss Wentworth did not accompany you. Was it by 
 their unwillingness or yours that they did not do so ?" 
 
 " They were willing." 
 
 The reply was slowly uttered. And no other expla- 
 nation was vouchsafed. Mrs. Boynton saw the truth. 
 Chester had already convicted her, in his heart, of a 
 wrong which she believed herself incapable of commit- 
 ting. Never before had she suspected that her husband 
 were capable of jealousy. But it was plain that this 
 worst or all passions had been excited within him ; that 
 it had stung him to injustice. 
 
 Tracy's sense of the wrong done her was keen. While 
 she had feared that her husband would be concerned at 
 her non-appearance, he had in reality been conjuring 
 wild, maddening suspicions against her. He had not
 
 CHESTER'S GREETING. 101 
 
 even asked if she had met with an accident; he had given 
 her no opportunity for explanation; he had only greeted 
 in her that cold way which had unmistakably betrayed 
 his distrust. 
 
 The shock to the sensitive young wife was a bitter one. 
 The sense of flagrant injustice shown filled her with in- 
 tense indignation. He had asked for no explanation; 
 she stood condemned beforehand; and, under the im- 
 pulse of that moment of passion, she resolved to with- 
 hold from him the story of the day's mishaps. 
 
 "And you prevailed upon them not to obtrude?" he 
 demanded, angered by the coolness of her responses. 
 
 " If it suits your mood to believe so, you are at lib- 
 erty." 
 
 " Tracy, what do you mean?" 
 
 She sank breathlessly upon a chair; she had made no 
 move toward removing her wraps. 
 
 " My meaning ought to be plain to you," she replied. 
 
 He was silent, and she added, hurriedly: 
 
 " You need not question me concerning the delay in 
 my coming, because I shall not explain. You would not 
 credit anything which I might say, in your present 
 mood. Besides, I feel that I owe you no excuses. The 
 insult conveyed in your tones and looks absolves me from 
 whatever sense of duty to you I have hitherto enter- 
 tained. Bear in mind that this experience of mine shall 
 not soon be forgotten. The love that goes hand in hand 
 with distrust is not the love I crave, or wish to retain!" 
 
 A bright flush had leaped into her face while she was 
 speaking, relieving its pallor. Her voice was unsteady ; 
 it was almost shrill in the intensity of her indignation. 
 Yet there was a cold courtesy in her words that rendered 
 their sting the more keen and lasting, for they did not 
 seem to be the utterance of an angry impulse. 
 
 Chester turned abruptly away, and seemed on the point 
 of leaving her. But at the door he paused and looked 
 back. He had set the lamp upon a table; and as he 
 stood near the door his face was thrown into shadow.
 
 102 CHESTER'S GREETING. 
 
 " Have I not the right to demand an explanation ? " he 
 said, in a low, steady voice. 
 
 " You had the right," she replied. 
 
 " It is still mine." 
 
 " Yes, you have the right to demand." She paused, 
 and then firmly added: "And I have the privilege of 
 refusing." 
 
 The jealous husband flung up one hand with an angry 
 gesture. 
 
 " You are my wife ! " he cried, raising his voice. 
 
 " Unfortunately for us both, I am." 
 
 As he grew more excited in speech, hers became 
 calmer. Upon that occasion, at least, she seemed the 
 stronger character of the two. 
 
 "Then you regret your choice?" he demanded. He 
 seemed determined to render their alienation too great 
 to admit of reconciliation. 
 
 " I have not said so," she replied. 
 
 " You intimated it." 
 
 " Do you wish me say that I regret it?" 
 
 " If it is true, I had rather hear it from your lips than 
 by other means." 
 
 " Why must I be cross-examined in this way? Why 
 may I not demand a like declaration from you ? " 
 
 " You have no reason to question the sincerity of my 
 regard, Tracy." 
 
 " Haven't I? Are you quite sure? I haven't an enemy 
 in the world who would insult me as you have done to- 
 night. Is that the measure of your sincerity ? " 
 
 She smiled as she said this, and her smile added to the 
 scorn of her tone. 
 
 " How have I insulted you? I have said nothing that 
 I had not reason to say. I sent for you to come this 
 morning; and I was generous enough to ask your former 
 I will not say present lover to come with you. You 
 fail to come when I expect you; the friends who were 
 to accompany you also fail to appear; and when you ar- 
 rive, it is at a late hour, and in company with the one
 
 CHESTER'S GKEETING. 103 
 
 whom I have good reason to suppose once possessed the 
 warmest regard of your heart." 
 
 Mr. Boynton's speech was usually rather deliberate. 
 But then it was rapid, and his whole demeanor seemed 
 to have undergone a startling transformation. 
 
 Tracy rose to her feet, advanced a pace toward him, 
 the color fleeing from her face and leaving it white as 
 marble. 
 
 " Who told you that lie was ever my my lover ? " she 
 demanded, her tones husky with eagerness. 
 
 Chester smiled this time somewhat exultantly. 
 
 " I have friends who are unwilling to have me de- 
 ceived," he answered. 
 
 "Who told you, Chester Boynton? / demand to 
 know ! " 
 
 " It is your turn to demand, it seems. It is mine to 
 refuse. I am too grateful for my friend's warning to 
 betray his or her personality." 
 
 She did not speak immediately and he continued: 
 
 " Let it suffice that the source of my information is 
 trustworthy. And if it were not your looks at this 
 moment would confirm it. You were once the betrothed 
 wife of Philip Temple or at least, he supposed you to 
 be such. It was by a mere chance that you were sepa- 
 rated. By a mere chance you are now brought together. 
 Therefore, what had 1 reason to expect? Yet I believed 
 that you really cared for me; that you had self-respect 
 sufficient to silence or prevent gossip. But you have not 
 done so. I accuse you of nothing worse than a show of 
 .sentiment toward a former lover. But your conduct, and 
 the position into which you have allowed yourself to be 
 drawn to-night is sufficient to tarnish your name and 
 mine. Frankness upon your part might have brightened 
 the shadow, and dispelled my suspicions, at least. But 
 your refusal to explain leaves me to infer what I please." 
 
 Once more Tracy sank upon a chair. For a moment 
 she covered her face with ner hands, and he could see 
 that her form shook with emotion.
 
 104 CHESTER'S GBEETINGL 
 
 Yet, when she again looked at him, it was plain that 
 she had not been weeping. 
 
 " I was not aware before that I had enemies spying 
 upon me," she exclaimed. 
 
 " You should not have hoped to keep the secret of your 
 former relations with Philip Temple from my knowl- 
 edge," Boynton returned. 
 
 " Had you asked me for.my confidence in such matters 
 I should not have withheld it." 
 
 "Are you sure?" 
 
 " Quite sure." 
 
 " I did not ask for it. I trusted you fully." 
 
 " You trusted me, as a stranger not as a husband 
 should do. Your confidence is upset by the first 
 shadow." 
 
 " It is not a small shadow, Tracy. Remember, you 
 refused, a moment ago, to explain." 
 
 " You asked for no explanation. You condemned me 
 without one, as I have said." 
 
 There was a moment of silence. Then, in an altered 
 tone, full of courteous coldness, Tracy asked: 
 
 " In our quarrel I have forgotten to inquire after your 
 unfortunate friend, Mr. Stacy. Is he doing well ?" 
 
 Chester compressed his lips. Never had his wife 
 seemed so radiantly lovely as at this moment. He was 
 assailed by a feeling that he had, perhaps, been too hasty, 
 in his jealous frenzy. He was half impelled at this mo- 
 ment to seek her pardon ; to take the first step toward re- 
 conciliation. But pride, and jealous pangs which still 
 clung to him, withheld the spontaneous outpouring of 
 his really generous nature. " I will wait, and see what 
 comes of it all," ho mentally decided. " I have reason to 
 be suspicious ; when she explains all, frankly as she ought, 
 then I can acknowledge my error. It shall be according 
 to her choice, not mine. She shall not be hampered by 
 me." 
 
 Aloud, in reply to her question, he said: 
 
 " His limb was badly fractured, and I'm sorry to say
 
 CHESTER'S GREETING. 105 
 
 that he is doing far from well. The delay in getting a 
 surgeon allowed some inflammation to set in, and there are 
 symptoms of fever. He has no nurse that the doctor can 
 trust, and for a few days, at least, I shall take care of 
 him. I shall sit up with him to-night." 
 
 " I'm sorry he is so bad," Tracy returned. She was 
 quietly removing her hat and Newmarket, standing before 
 tne small mirror that hung over the old-fashioned wash- 
 stand. An observer at the moment would not have sus- 
 pected that there was pain, jealousy, indignation burning 
 within their hearts. Or that there had oeen a quarrel, 
 such as ruin many lives had just been indulged. 
 
 " If you need my assistance, do not hesitate to call," 
 she added, with a quiet sincerity which could not be mis- 
 taken. " I shall not need you to-night; to-morrow I may. 
 And it is possible that Mr. Temple can relieve me to- 
 morrow night." 
 
 He opened the door, but lingered for a moment upon 
 the threshold, as though hoping something more might 
 be said. But she did not again look at him. She went 
 on arranging her hair before the glass. 
 
 And he wheeled quickly and left her alone, the door 
 closing between them with a bang.
 
 106 THE HEART OF A WOMAN. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE HEART OF WOMAN. 
 
 " Ah me ! How weak a thing 
 The heart of woman is." 
 
 Julius Caesar. Act. 2, Scene iv. 
 
 Tracy did not see Philip, nor her husband, again that 
 night. 
 
 A servant had been employed, at Stacy's expense, to 
 assist Gridley's housekeeper. The house was ample in 
 size, althougn its furnishings throughout were meager and 
 out of date. 
 
 Gridley himself was a man of sixty five, and it was 
 plain that he was of miserly disposition. Indeed he 
 seemed to rejoice that Mr. Stacy's misfortune had 
 brought him what he otherwise might have never ob- 
 tained several remunerative boarders. 
 
 To his son, who was a cripple, undersized and old- 
 looking, the miser said upon every favorable oppor- 
 tunity : 
 
 " They're rich city folks, and let 'em pay well for what 
 they git, might as well come into our pockets as any- 
 body's, eh?" 
 
 The youth would nod and grin affimatively. Yet it 
 was doubtful if a copper cent of the proceeds ever found 
 a resting place in his pocket. Perhaps, however, he felt 
 that he was a sharer in the old man's prosperity,, in the lat- 
 ter's willingness to confide in him. 
 
 " We'll make a good thing off of 'em afore the young 
 chap gits well," he would continue, rubbing the stumpy 
 beard upon his chin with one yellow hand with measured 
 emphasis. 
 
 " A bad break, the doctor says. Fever liable to set in. 
 May be sick two months. That Boynton generous chap, 
 not a stingy hair about him won't desert his friend. 
 Wife pretty's a picter won't leave him. And Mr. 
 Temple won't go while she stays. Clear enough that he
 
 THE HEART OF A WOMAH. 107 
 
 sets a, heap by her, though she is another man's wife. 
 None of our business long as they pay well eh, Simon?" 
 
 Simon nodded and grinned again. This was his stereo- 
 typed way of assenting to everything. And then he hob- 
 bled away on his crutches, muttering to himself. 
 
 This was spoken early the next evening after the ar- 
 rival of Philip and Tracy. 
 
 In the meanwhile Mr. Boynton had learned, in a casual 
 remark on the part of Temple, of the destroyed bridge, 
 and of the other delays which had caused them to be so 
 long upon the road. But these explanations were not 
 made to him. Philip supposed, then, that Tracy had 
 explained to her husband, and therefore supposed that 
 the details were not due from him. 
 
 Yet, at the table at dinner and breakfast he became 
 vaguely conscious that there was trouble between hus- 
 band and wife. Not until early evening did he have a 
 chance to speak with Tracy alone, although they had 
 spoken freely together before the others during the day. 
 
 The glow of another sunset rested upon the tree-tops, 
 glinting the old house, filling the windows with flame. 
 Philip stood under a tree at a short distance from the 
 dwelling. He heard a light, quick step near him, and 
 turning, saw Tracy approaching. 
 
 The day had been warmer than the previous one, and 
 she had donned a dainty-figured lawn, that caused her to 
 look more sweet and fairy -like than usual. 
 
 " I was looking for you," she said, as she came up. 
 At the same time a slight flush of embarrassment came 
 into her cheeks. 
 
 "Were you?" he returned, thrilled with pleasure. 
 
 "Why not? I have hardly seen you to-day. And 
 I have something I wish to tell you." 
 
 Her tone faltered a little as she said this. He looked 
 at her in vague surprise. 
 
 "What is it? Something that troubles you?" he 
 questioned.
 
 108 THE HEART OF A WOMAI?. 
 
 "Have you spoken with Chester to-day?" she ab- 
 ruptly asked. 
 
 "Only casually." 
 
 " Then he has said nothing to you ? " 
 
 " Nothing of special note. In fact, I imagined that 
 he tried to avoid me. He asked if I would take care of 
 Mr. Stacy to-night that is all that I remember." 
 
 " I am glad he has said nothing more," she returned, 
 with a sign of relief. 
 
 Her words only excited his curiosity. 
 
 "What do you mean?" he questioned. 
 
 She did not answer. He drew nearer, and looked 
 earnestly down into her face. 
 
 "You have quarrelled again?" he said, in a very low 
 tone. 
 
 How did he know that they had ever quarreled ? she 
 asked herself. 
 
 "A little," she admitted, compressing her lips. 
 
 " I was not the cause, I hope?" 
 
 "No not you, directly. He had no right to show 
 you injustice. He was jealous some one has been 
 poisoning his mind against me. He knows that we were 
 once " 
 
 She hesitated, and he supplied, in a questioning tone: 
 
 "Lovers?" 
 
 The word was lightly uttered; but it sent a bright 
 glow over her cheeks, rivaling that of the sunset. 
 
 " Yes," she answered. 
 
 " Some one told him ! " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Do you know whom?" 
 
 "No/' 
 
 "And does he refuse to tell you?" 
 
 "He does." 
 
 There was a pause. Philip Temple's face clouded; 
 there was a resentful flash in his blue eyes. 
 "This is infamous!" he cried vehemently. 
 She made no response, and he continued:
 
 THE HEART OF A WOMAN. 109 
 
 "So he is jealous of me! And was he unkind?" 
 
 "Don't ask me!" she cried, appealingly. 
 
 There was another pause. 
 
 Then Philip said, decisively: 
 
 " I will go away." 
 
 " No, no ! " she returned. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " I wish you to stay. Mr. Stacy needs you. You 
 shall not be driven away like this. It will do no good 
 for you to go. Our -quarrel cannot be healed in that 
 way. You are my friend, and his unreasoning jealousy 
 shall not separate us, or make us as strangers. We are 
 blameless are we not?" 
 
 She looked straight into his face as she asked the 
 question. In a flash, he remembered the tenor of his 
 fancies or dreams of the previous day. Was lie blame- 
 less? The question came to him with accusing force 
 But there was a plausible answer ready. It is so easy 
 for us to practice self-deception. It is so easy to arrive 
 at a verdict of self -acquittal, no matter how strong the 
 evidence presented to our own consciousness. 
 
 " Yes, we are blameless," he answered, his voice shak 
 ing. " ISTo one can accuse us rightfully of an improper 
 word or action. / may not be wholly innocent in one 
 regard. I have allowed you to see that I have not f or- 
 gotten the past ; I have admitted that the love which I 
 once had a right to avow had not been destroyed by the 
 accidents of separation, and marriage. In letting you 
 see this, I may have overstepped the bounds of propriety. 
 But I could not have hidden the truth if I had attempted 
 to do so, and perhaps frankness is better than unsuccess- 
 ful concealment. If there is blame, as I say, it is mine." 
 
 Her eyes drooped; the color had again faded from her 
 face. 
 
 " You are too generous," she said, almost inaudibly. 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " I, too, am open to blame." 
 
 " I do not understand?"
 
 110 THE HEART OF A WOMAN. 
 
 " It is better that we should misunderstand each 
 other," she exclaimed, hastily. 
 
 The words thrilled him with a wild, overpowering con- 
 viction. What might he not infer from her remark ? 
 
 He bent eagerly toward her; for an instant a question 
 trembled upon his lips a query prompted by his own 
 overpowering love yet, with strong self-control he sup- 
 pressed it. If what he suspected were true, what right 
 nad he to take advantage of her confidence in him? 
 Would there be aught gained if she were prevailed upon 
 to admit that, if she were free, she would return his 
 love? That she did return it even now? 
 
 In that moment of hesitation between passion and the 
 generous, chivalrous instincts of his nature, Philip Tem- 
 ple realized that in such an admission from her, if it 
 were true, only a greater torture would be entailed to 
 them both. If it were true, it were treason to utter it. 
 It were a thousand times better unspoken. He drew 
 back quickly. She had not seen the look upon his face, 
 and it was well that she did not. 
 
 " I will go away, Mrs. Boynton," he declared, with 
 forced calmness. " It is better to remove all appearance 
 of evil, and then your husband may regret his hasty 
 judgment." 
 
 "I don't wish you to go," she persisted. 
 
 " I think it is wiser for us both." 
 
 " It may be wiser for you. But I am selfish. If you 
 go Chester will think I told you to do so, that his sus- 
 picions might be allayed. He has been jealous without 
 just cause. We will prove to him that our friendship is 
 above reproach. My fair name is dear to me, as well as 
 to him." 
 
 " It is dear to me also," Philip said, fervently. 
 
 " Then you will stay for the present? " 
 
 " If it is best. I will stay until to-morrow until I 
 have time to think." 
 
 " You will stay it is best," she insisted, so eagerly
 
 THE HEART OF A WOMAN. Ill 
 
 that he could not have refused then, had he wished to 
 do so. 
 
 They were silent again for a few moments. She turned 
 to leave him, and then came back. 
 
 " One thing more," she said hesitatingly. 
 
 " Anything you may ask." 
 
 " Chester may speak to you that is reproachfully." 
 
 " He may indulge in severe language, if he chance to 
 give his passion rein." 
 
 u And if he should do so, how should you meet him?" 
 
 " Just as you may direct." 
 
 " Can you exercise self-control under strong provoca- 
 tion?" J 
 
 " If need be." 
 
 " Then refuse to quarrel with him. Do not make re- 
 torts to his angry remarks. Do not exasperate him 
 further than he is at the beginning." 
 
 " It shall be as you say, Mrs. Boynton. There shall be 
 no quarrel betwixt your husband and me if I can avoid 
 it. I will meet him with humility, or whatever may 
 best assuage his anger." 
 
 " I can trust you, Mr. Temple. I wish he might com- 
 prehend how noble you are!" 
 
 She was moving away as she said this. He started to 
 follow her, but suppressed the impulse, and returning to 
 the tree, flung himself wearily upon the ground. He 
 had scarcely done so before he heard a sound, as of some 
 one hobbling toward him. Turning, he saw Simon Grid- 
 ley advancing, as fast as his crutches would carry him. 
 
 The fellow was grinning, as was usual. He sank down 
 to a crouching position, and fell to looking at Philip 
 with furtive curiosity. 
 
 "'Spose he'll die?" the youth abruptly asked, in a 
 thin, husky tone. 
 
 "Whom?" Temple returned. 
 
 Mr. Stacy?" 
 
 I hope not."
 
 112 THE HEART OF A WOMAN. 
 
 " Be you goin' to stay here till he gets well?" 
 
 " I dont't know." 
 
 " Stay 'slong as the Boyntons do, won't ye?" 
 
 I think not." 
 
 " I should think you would." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " 'Cause she's so han'some and sets so much by ye!" 
 
 The gathering shadows, fortunately, hid the burning 
 flush which mantled the cheeks and brow of Philip at 
 the blunt remark of the strange youth. 
 
 "What do you mean, you young simpleton?" Temple 
 angrily exclaimed. 
 
 " Oh, nothin' much." 
 
 " Do you know, I've a mind to teach you better man- 
 ners ? " rhilip wrathf ully cried. 
 
 The youth recoiled, in some trepidation. 
 
 " Don't hurt me. I didn't mean nothin', I tell ye," 
 he declared. 
 
 " Then see that you keep a civil tongue in your head 
 in future. 
 
 The young man rose as he uttered this warning, and 
 entered the house.
 
 CALM DESPAIB. 113 
 
 -CHAPTEK XV11L 
 
 CALM DESPAIB. 
 
 "What words are these have falTn from me I 
 Can calm despair and wild unrest 
 Be tenants of a single breast, 
 Or sorrow each a changeling be? " 
 
 In Memoriam. 
 
 The two succeeding days were comparatively unevent- 
 ful ones at the Gridley dwelling. The fears concerning 
 Stacy's injury were realized. He was a very sick man, 
 and required constant attention. The nurse procured at 
 the village was inexperienced and inefficient, and Chester 
 Boynton and Philip Temple shared almost equally in the 
 superintendence and care of the unfortunate man. 
 
 Mrs. Boynton lent a kind also, in the gentle, quiet 
 way which belongs to her csx. But between herself and 
 Chester a tacit coldness continued. 
 
 That he knew the cause of delay upon the day of 
 her arrival she was aware. Hence she felt that an apology 
 for his hasty judgment was due both herself and Philip. 
 
 But no apology was made. He did not seem to be 
 watching them ; outwardly, no one could discern a trace 
 of jealousy on the part of Mr. Boynton. 
 
 Philip and Tracy met at the table; and when her hus- 
 band was at the bedside of the patient, they sometimes 
 strolled out upon the lawn together, chatting in a light 
 vein, and making no reference to her unhappiness, or to 
 former days. 
 
 Upon the third morning Mr. Stacy was somewhat bet- 
 ter, and Philip announced in the presence of Chester and 
 Tracy his intention to return to the Webb cottage. 
 
 " I have been neglecting my own work too long 
 already," he declared, " and it is time that I bestirred 
 myself. For, you will remember, I am not simply idling 
 away a summer vacation. I am gathering scraps and 
 sketches of rural scenery, to use in my designs for engrav- 
 8
 
 1 14: CALM DESPAIR. 
 
 ing. Next month I am to illustrate several magazine 
 serials, and I must have an abundance of fresh material 
 in my sketch book to select from." 
 
 To this announcement Tracy made no response at 
 least, not then. Chester merely said : 
 
 " We shall miss you, of course. But you know best 
 what you can do. The nurse and I can handle Stacy's 
 case now, without over-taxing either of us." 
 
 Philip arranged to return the next morning. 
 
 Toward nightfall he saw Tracy walking leisurely out 
 upon the road. She appeared to be on an aimless stroll ; 
 and it occurred to Philip that he might not again have 
 an opportunity to speak with her before his departure. 
 Hence, under an irresistible impulse he started out bent 
 upon overtaking her. 
 
 When he reached the road she had disappeared beyond 
 a curve, and he quickened his steps, fearing that he 
 should miss the opportunity. Reaching a huge oak by 
 the roadside, he came upon Tracy in the act of gathering 
 a mass of golden rod, which grew plentifully in that spot. 
 She did not notice his approach until he was at her side. 
 
 " So you came," she exclaimed, slowly facing about. 
 
 " Did you expect me to follow you?" he eagerly re- 
 turned, strangely thrilled by her words and expression. 
 
 " I thought it was like you to follow," she replied. 
 
 He looked at her keenly. Was she ridiculing him? 
 She had stopped breaking the long stems of golden rod ; 
 that which she had already gathered she permitted to 
 fall to the ground. 
 
 "I did not iniend to intrude against your wishes," 
 Philip gravely said. She was silent, and, with a vague 
 sense of disappointment he turned away. 
 
 " Stay! " she exclaimed. 
 
 He faced about, and saw that she was smiling. 
 " I didn't tell you to go," she added. 
 " I inferred that you looked upon my following you 
 i an intrusion." 
 " You had no right to infer anything of the kind. I
 
 CALM DESPAIR. 115 
 
 expected you to come, and I should have been disap- 
 pointed if you had not." 
 
 This was sufficiently plain, and he was at her side in 
 a moment. 
 
 " I thought I would bid you good-by before I went 
 back," he said, his voice very low. 
 
 "We might have bid each other adieu at the house," 
 she suggested. 
 
 "And you think it would have been the better way? " 
 
 "Perhaps. But I wished to say something more to 
 you." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 She hesitated. Then she suddenly buried her face in 
 her hands, giving vent to a burst of weeping which, 
 evidently, she had restrained until this moment only by 
 strong self-control. 
 
 The evidence of her anguish sent a yet keener pain to 
 the heart of Philip Temple. He did not pause to con- 
 sider the (juestionableness of the act. His sympathy 
 and love gained, for the time, complete control, and he 
 was in a mood to defy right or wrong. He drew nearer, 
 and seized her hands in both his own, gently drawing 
 them away from her face. 
 
 " Tracy !'' he cried, in a low, passionate tone. " How 
 long is this to continue? It is breaking my heart to see 
 you suffer so, without the power of comforting or aiding 
 you! It seems bitterly wrong that, when one is in 
 trouble, one's truest friend may not bestow his sympathy 
 and counsel unchecked." 
 
 She did not withdraw her hands from his strong, steady 
 grasp. Her eyes, full of tears, looked up into his. 
 
 "What has he been saying to you?" he asked, after a 
 moment of eloquent silence. 
 
 " Nothing," she answered. 
 
 " Has nothing new occurred ? Have you not quarreled 
 again?" 
 
 " No. We have not quarreled. But he treats me so
 
 116 CALM DESPAIR. 
 
 coldly. He knows that he has wronged me, yet he ap- 
 pears as though the opposite were the case." 
 
 She hesitated again. And then, speaking rapidly she 
 continued: 
 
 " I feel that it is wrong for me to confide in you thus. 
 But what else can I do ? Can I submit tamely to his in- 
 justice? I wish you would tell me what to do. I would 
 abide by your dicision. You have proven yourself better, 
 nobler than I ever dreamed you could be. What shall I 
 do? Tell me tell me!" 
 
 How beautiful she was, in her anguish and helpless- 
 ness. What could Philip Temple advise, loving her as 
 he did? Could he tell her to go to her husband and 
 throw herself at his feet, begging that they might be 
 reconciled ? Did she really desire a reconciliation with 
 Chester Boynton ? 
 
 Philip Temple had more than once convinced himself 
 that Tracy did not love her husband at all. He had ar- 
 rived, long ago, at a conviction that, in spite of the bonds 
 binding her to another, she loved him! If this were true, 
 what advice could he offer? 
 
 The situation was one in which he could not reason 
 calmly. The charm of her nearness was upon him. They 
 were alone, amid the gathering tints of twilight; her 
 hands rested unresistingly in his; he could hear the tu- 
 multuous throbbing of her heart in the breathless silence. 
 
 He bent his face nearer hers ; for a brief space of time 
 he cast off the restraint upon his emotions which he had 
 only maintained under a most severe tension of control. 
 
 "Oh, my darling!" he exclaimed, scarce above a 
 whisper. " Yes, I will say it, Tracy I must say it, if 
 you kill me if he kills me," he went on, as her hands 
 fluttered in his like imprisoned birds. " I love you, as 
 the saints love heaven ! By divine right, you belong to 
 me you never belonged to him. You made a terrible 
 mistake ; you never cared for him as you ought ; you have 
 cared more for me from the first." 
 
 The look of mingled anguish and apprehension that
 
 CALM DESPAIR. 117 
 
 into her eyes condemned him even as he spoke. 
 But, like a torrent which has once broken forth from its 
 bounds, his passionate utterance ran on unmindful of 
 the pain he might inflict, or the lasting disgrace or terri- 
 ble consequences which he might entail upon her as well 
 as himself. 
 
 " You do not deny it," he continued, his tones grow- 
 ing less vehement and more eager. " Your face, your 
 eyes, your silence, your trembling, all tell me the sweet, 
 yet bitter truth. Let your lips utter it also just once! 
 Say that you do, that you have loved me say it with 
 your lips ! And then, if you bid me leave you, and go 
 to the farthest ends of the earth, I will meekly obey. 
 But I cannot go without the boon I ask the boon of 
 that sweetest of words, if it be only whispered, or shaped 
 by those lips! Tracy, Tracy! Why are you silent ?" 
 
 She had grown deathly white while he was speaking. 
 It was plain that he was subjecting her to a terrible 
 strain. Her lips fluttered, she struggled to free her 
 hands, she recoiled from him, as though in sudden horror. 
 
 " Philip Mr. Temple why, why ." Her utterance 
 seemed choked; she tottered in sudden, over-powering 
 f aintness ; he caught her, white and silent, in his arms ; 
 she had swooned. 
 
 But those faltered words, and the look of horror upon 
 her countenance brought him, with a shock, to a full 
 realization of what he had said of what he had im- 
 plored her to confess. In that moment Philip Temple 
 loathed himself, as he 'could have loathed no other hu- 
 man being. To have been the instrument of inflicting 
 such pain to this helpless, friendless woman; to cause 
 her to swoon in very norror at his vehement, sinful ut- 
 terance what greater punishment could an avenging 
 angel have inflicted upon the sensitive soul of a man ! 
 
 So absorbed was he that he did not hear the sound of 
 passing wheels. And not until Tracy was resuscitated, 
 and he had accompanied her in silence back to the house, 
 was he aware that there had been a new arrival at the 
 Gridley dwelling.
 
 118 SHE RELENTS WITH PITY. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 SHE RELENTS WITH PITY. 
 
 " First she relents 
 With pity; of that pity then repents." Prior. 
 
 There is nothing so alluring as the paths which lead 
 to danger. 
 
 They are strewn with fairest flowers, redolent with in- 
 toxicating perfumes, and bright with the witching glamor 
 of silvery moonlight. Hope, and pleasure, and delight 
 lay invitingly before; while darkness and difficulty close 
 in behind. The descent is easy and agreeable; but to re- 
 turn, the way lies over seemingly inaccessible heights 
 which we have not the heart nor the strength to climb. 
 
 Such had been the experience of Philip Temple ; and 
 in a lesser degree it was also that of Mrs. Boynton. 
 
 The fact of the frequent disagreements between Tracy 
 and her husband had led the latter to seek the more agree- 
 able society of her former lover. In doing this she had 
 no intention of wrong, in act or thought. There is a 
 purity of heart which is above self -distrust. Such was 
 ners. A suggestion of wrong was a shock to her hence 
 the keenness of her resentment under the jealous charges 
 of her husband, for not once had she entertained an un- 
 faithful thought. 
 
 That she was pleased by Philip's companionship could 
 not be denied. She knew, from the moment of their 
 meeting upon the mountain-side that she still possessed 
 the truest devotion of his heart. This she could not help. 
 She could not blame him, either, for his passion had be- 
 gun, and matured, when it had a right to do so. She 
 even felt that, in some way, she ought to show him that 
 she admired his fidelity, which in men is so rare; and in 
 cultivating friendly relations, and attempting to throw 
 off the embarrassing restraint which the memory of the
 
 SHE RELENTS WITfl PITY. 119 
 
 past might exercise over them, she overstepped the bounds 
 of prudence. 
 
 In all this she was innocent. Even the secret delight 
 which she felt in still possessing Temple's preference was 
 innocent, because she did not realize the possible danger 
 of entertaining it. 
 
 It is a pleasure to woman to be beloved. There is a 
 subtle fascination in the possession of this power over 
 hearts a fascination which sometimes leads to danger, 
 sometimes to coquetry, and often to life -long misery. 
 Yet, in the beginning, danger and misery are unthougnt 
 of. 
 
 "With Tracy and Philip there had been a steady, swift 
 drifting toward the crisis which had now been reached. 
 
 The point beyond which Temple's generous, honorable 
 nature could not safely go had been passed, and with the 
 result which in another ne would have been keen enough 
 to foresee. 
 
 Ah! if those passionate words could only be recalled ! 
 If, with his newly learned wisdom, he could only be per- 
 mitted to go back, and exercise the self-control and pru- 
 dence which were now possible to him. 
 
 Before his departure the next morning he only saw 
 Mrs. Boynton for a brief instant as they both chanced to 
 meet in a room through which they were hastily passing. 
 
 Her face was very pale ; but as she met his glance, he 
 saw pity, reproach, yet no anger expressed in her look. 
 
 " You can not condemn me so utterly as I condemn 
 myself, Mrs. Boynton," he said, in a low, unsteady tone. 
 
 " The fault was not wholly yours ; I led you to it, in 
 my own blindness," she answered. 
 
 For a moment he lingered. Then, turning away, he 
 hastily said : 
 
 " 1 ou had best tell your husband all, and then he will 
 condemn me and not you. I do not misunderstand you 
 now. Mr. Boynton will honor you when he knows the 
 truth." 
 
 He did not say good-by, nor did she resp ond to his
 
 120 SHfi RELENTS WITH PITY. 
 
 parting injunction. Both passed on, and a few moments 
 later Philip Temple was being driven rapidly away from 
 the Gridley dwelling. 
 
 Tracy had not yet seen Mr. Brock, although she knew 
 the evening before that he had arrived. But as she en- 
 tered the next room, she met him face to face. 
 
 " Couldn't keep away from your husband forever, you 
 see," he declared, with his slow, cold smile. 
 
 She barely touched, with her fingers, the hand which 
 he extended in greeting. She could scarce repress a 
 shudder in the contact. He could not have failed to note 
 her aversion, and just the suspicion of a frown for a 
 moment darkened his brow. 
 
 But his tones lost none of their affability, as he con- 
 tinued speaking. 
 
 " They miss you at the hotel at a tremendous rate, Mrs. 
 Boynton," he continued. He had retreated to a window, 
 through which a flood of yellow sunlight was shining. 
 
 " Miss Wentworth, in particular, desired me to inquire 
 if you were not coming back pretty soon. She was 
 decidedly down-in-the-moutn yesterday.about nothing. So 
 much so that she seemed actually to enjoy my society. 
 Another falling out with that fickle lover of hers, it's 
 likely. Pity they couldn't separate for good!" 
 
 Mr. Brock shrugged his shoulders as he voiced this sen- 
 timent. 
 
 Tracy found herself strangely fascinated by his remarks. 
 She experienced a wish to combat him, in some way; for 
 his every characteristic and expressed opinion was repel- 
 " lant to her. 
 
 " Why do you wish them to separate?" she demanded, 
 a flash of indignation in her tones. 
 
 " Better for them both," he tersely replied. 
 
 "And why better?" she persisted. 
 
 " Save separating when it would be more embarrassing 
 all around. Lovers can part, and their good names will 
 survive. But married people kick up the biggest kind of
 
 SHE RELENTS WITH PITY. 121 
 
 a dust with their reputations in separating, or getting 
 divorced." 
 
 If there was a hidden significance in this remark, Tracy 
 failed to preceive it. 
 
 " Because they quarrel now is no indication that they 
 may not live happily when married," she warmly as- 
 serted. 
 
 " Isn't it?" He shrugged his shoulders and laughed. 
 
 " Perhaps not," he added. 
 
 "Do you think it is?" 
 
 She seemed bent upon showing her antagonism. 
 
 " I suppose not, if you say so. You've married and 
 I'm a bachelor. So we have a right to differ, though 
 your ideas are entitled to more respect than mine." 
 
 The innuendo conveyed was not lost upon Tracy. 
 
 Her face flushed with sudden anger. 
 
 "Why do you say that?" she demanded. 
 
 "I don't know my oddity, I suppose." 
 
 " I believe you meant to to insult me," she cried. 
 
 "Oh, no! Beg pardon. I thought we were friendly. 
 But never mind \pe can disagree and still be friends, 
 can't we? Your husband is a famous friend of mine. He 
 understands me. You are a little prejudiced on account 
 of something offensive in my looks or speech. But I'm 
 not to blame for either. I've no ill will toward you. I'm 
 blunt in my ways ; I'm odd, and inclined to be cold when 
 everybody else is too warm. That's constitutional. We 
 won't quarrel about the temperature. I'll stand in the sun 
 and you may stay out of it, and then we'll both by com- 
 fortableeh?" 
 
 Tracy's indignation was restrained only by a strong 
 effort. 
 
 She was convinced that this man liked her no better 
 than she liked him. Yet he was an enigma to her. She 
 could not analyze the cause for her own antipathy. 
 
 " You have no right to wish others to be unhappy be- 
 cause you can not sympathize with them in their joys," 
 she said, more deliberately.
 
 122 Sfill RELENTS WITH PITY. 
 
 " That's true, Mrs. Boynton," lie returned, with 
 another shrug and smile. 
 
 " I own," he continued, " that I don't faucy this love- 
 making. I may have my reasons, and I may not. But 
 I don't like it. There's more unhappiness than good in 
 it, the world over. Read history, biography, anything 
 but romance, and you'll find it so. But that's no reason 
 why 1 should interfere by a word, I admit. You're right 
 and I'm wrong, same as you are when you say the day is 
 warm and I say it's cold. This is a cold day to me. To 
 you it's warm, else you'd change that pretty, sleazy white 
 gown for a warmer one. You see we caii't argue from 
 the same standpoint. But we won't quarrel, eh! go- 
 ing? No offense, I hope?" 
 
 " None," she coldly replied, passing from the room. 
 
 Did she imagine it, or did she hear a low chuckle from 
 Mr. Brock, as the door closed between them? 
 
 He had arrived sometime the evening before she did 
 not know when. Philip had watched with Stacy, and 
 Mr. Boynton had retired early for a sound night's sleep, 
 so it was doubtful if Chester and Brock more than ex- 
 changed greetings the night of the latter's arrival. 
 
 But before the day had passed, they took one of their 
 customary strolls together. They were absent longer 
 than usual, and when they returned Mr. Boynton went 
 directly to attend upon Stacy. His wife only met him 
 at the table again that day, and then she was struck by a 
 strange, cold pallor which had settled upon his counte- 
 nance. 
 
 " Are you ill, Chester?" she questioned, as for a moment 
 they were left alone. 
 
 " No," he answered, without looking at her. 
 
 "What, then, has happened?" 
 
 "Nothing.". 
 
 ' You are very pale." 
 
 "Ami?" 
 
 She went up to him and placed one hand upon his 
 arm.
 
 SHE .RELENTS WITH PITY. 123 
 
 " I wish we might understand each other better! " she 
 exclaimed, her tones full of eagerness. 
 
 He did not look at her. A scornful smile wreathed 
 his lips. 
 
 " I think we know each other full well already," he 
 replied. 
 
 "Are you not willing to be at peace with me? Can 
 you not listen to what I have to say?" 
 
 The glance which he sent into her face caused her to 
 recoil in startled dismay. 
 
 "There are extenuating circumstances j and I shall 
 not be uncharitable!" he said, in a tone that seemed to 
 freeze the blood in her veins. 
 
 The housekeeper came in at that moment, and Chester 
 abruptly repaired to Stacy's room. 
 
 She did not see him again that night. In the morning, 
 as she came down stairs, she met the younger Gridley in 
 the small entry -way. 
 
 The youth leaned his chin upon one crutch and looked 
 quizzically up into her face. 
 
 " Didn't you Know he'd gone? " he asked, in his nasal 
 tones. 
 
 "Gone! whom?" she returned. 
 
 "Both of 'em!" 
 
 "Not my husband?" 
 
 " Yes, and the cold chap." 
 
 "Where did they go?" 
 
 "Idunno." 
 
 "This morning?" 
 
 "No, last night. With a team. I thought you didn't 
 know. Gi'n ye the slip." 
 
 Tracy clasped her hands, a sudden sense of nameless 
 horror sweeping over her. 
 
 Chester and Mr. Brock gone and they went last 
 night! 
 
 What, what did it mean ? Perhaps she was impressed 
 by a premonition of what the dreadful sequel was to be^
 
 124 TO NO REMORSE. 
 
 CHAPTEE XX. 
 
 TO NO REMORSE. 
 
 "Curse on the unpardoning prince \vhom tears can draw 
 To no remorse." 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Philip Temple spent the day or all that remained of 
 it after his arrival at the Webb cottage in the most as- 
 siduous labor. 
 
 He ascended to the very summit of the mountain with 
 indefatigable determination, and sketched, from various 
 points of view, the landscape spread below. 
 
 His excessive industry was prompted by two impulses. 
 The first, was to relieve the sense of remorse which was 
 feeding upon his mind ; the second, a desire to make use 
 of the rare scenery before he should be obliged to leave 
 the spot. 
 
 For he had firmly resolved not to see Tracy Boynton 
 again. Upon her arrival at the hotel, he would leave the 
 vicinity for good, to avoid all chance of meeting her. 
 
 Not that he distrusted his power of self-control. There 
 was no further danger of his yielding to an overpower- 
 ing sweep of passion, even if the opportunity or temp- 
 tation were presented. The lesson had been thoroughly, 
 terribly learned. He loathed his own weakness ; his re- 
 spect for Tracy's purity of soul was profound; he could 
 meet her now daily without danger. He was now capa- 
 ble of alertness in the avoidance of what might be con- 
 strued into an appearance of evil. 
 
 Therefore it was not for this that he desired to avoid 
 meeting Mrs. Boynton again. His true reason was a 
 simple one. He feared that he might prove an obstacle 
 to the final reconciliation of husband and wife, through 
 the jealousy which had already been excited in the for- 
 mer. 
 
 " He shall have her entirely to himself, as he ought,"
 
 TO NO EEMOKSE. 125 
 
 he mentally decided. "I will not even obtrude my 
 friendship. And beside, what I said to her in that mad 
 moment, though forgiven, cannot pass wholly from the 
 memory. Therefore it would be hard for us ever to re- 
 gain anything like a natural demeanor in each other's 
 presence. I shall go away, and if we meet in after years 
 she shall have no cause to shrink from me, nor her hus- 
 band to regard me with distrust." 
 
 Such reflections as these flitted through his mind dur- 
 ing the entire day, while he was busy with eye and pencil. 
 
 Never had he been capable of clearer discernment in 
 the beauties of nature than upon that memorable day. 
 Never had his hand been so deft in its execution, nor so 
 facile in perfection. 
 
 So much good work, done within so short a period, had 
 never been possible to him before. It is a singular, yet 
 well proven fact that sometimes we flnd ourselves capa- 
 ble or marvelously perfect work while laboring under 
 severe mental or physical depression. There is at such 
 times a preternatural exaltation of the intellect by which 
 the brain is stimulated beyond its normal capacity, while 
 the hand gains a trueness of touch never attained before. 
 
 Philip returned to the cottage at nightfall and partook 
 of a light supper. Then he started forth again. 
 
 Near the house he encountered Jason Webb. 
 
 " Not going to investigate that mystery to-night, be 
 you?" the young farmer questioned. 
 
 " No. I wish to make a few moonlight sketches, for 
 which the evening promises to be especially fine," was 
 the reply. 
 
 "Going fur?" 
 
 " Up the mountain a short distance." 
 
 " Don't want any company, I 'spose?" 
 
 Philip hesitated. 
 
 Ordinarily he would not have objected to the society 
 of the good-humored young man. But to-night he was 
 in no mood for talking or listening. Beside, he could 
 work faster alone. So he replied :
 
 126 TO NO EEMOBSE. 
 
 " You will pardon me, Mr. Webb, but your companion- 
 ship is too agreeable. I can't work and talk, without 
 spoiling both. And if you are with me I shall certainly 
 talk, so the work will have to suffer. Otherwise, I should 
 be only too glad to have you with me." 
 
 " That's all right, of course. Hope you'll have good 
 luck." 
 
 " Thank you." 
 
 Philip turned into the path, leading toward the sum- 
 mer hotel the fateful path whence the mysterious light 
 was visible. He went only a few yards before stopping 
 to glance back. He saw Jason Webb still gazing after 
 him, and he had half a mind to alter his decision, and re- 
 quest his host to join him. 
 
 "Going to stay out late?" Webb called. 
 
 " Not very," Temple replied, still hesitating. 
 
 " Be in by ten o'clock, I suppose?" 
 
 " Yes, or before. Don't sit up for me however. I 
 sha'n't want to stop work while the moon shines brightly. 
 I can almost see to sketch without my lantern with such 
 a moon." 
 
 Webb turned away and Temple hastened onward, for 
 the sun had set already, and the red glow of the western 
 horizon was fading in the white light of the moon, high 
 in the heavens. 
 
 Philip ascended the mountain by a side path, reaching 
 a bold, jutting rock from which a- view of the whole val- 
 ley could be obtained. 
 
 He lighted his lantern, adjusted a reflecting shade so 
 as to throw the light upon his paper, and then com- 
 menced work. 
 
 Far below was the zigzag road, the sand gleaming 
 white in contrast with the dark trees beyond. There 
 were glimpses of the river, its surface like molten silver; 
 there were several farm-houses, from which lights gleamed 
 dully; and a partial view of the red-roofed hotel, and 
 several summer cottages near it also came within the 
 scope of the broad picture,
 
 TO NO KEMOKSE. 127 
 
 "With such an enchanting model almost anyone, it 
 seemed, could have made clever sketches. Philip had an 
 artistic eye, and not a point of the perfect landscape es- 
 caped his appreciative glance. 
 
 The time passed swiftly, so deeply engaged did he be- 
 come in his task. In truth the material for pictures con- 
 stantly accumulated without a change of position. The 
 moon, gliding along the azure dome made a constant 
 change of outline, shifting the shadows, and illuming new 
 points which had before been hidden, while others be- 
 came obscured. 
 
 But presently the young man realized that he could 
 not continue his work much longer. A glance at his 
 watch caused him to leap to his feet in surprise. 
 
 Eleven o'clock already! And it would take half an 
 hour, at the least calculation, to reach the cottage. 
 
 He commenced the descent without delay. It required 
 care to pick his way, and he presently found that he had 
 missed the route by which he came up, and was following 
 another, though easier path. At length he reached the 
 main path, at a point lying between the spot of mystery 
 and the summer hotel. Hence he would be obliged to 
 pass the " haunted " place to reach the cottage. 
 
 The prospect did not disturb him in the least. He 
 felt some curiosity to see if the strange light would be 
 there to tantalize his interest. 
 
 He had not proceeded a dozen steps along the path, 
 however, before he became aware that some one was ad- 
 vancing toward him from the direction of Webb's. Was 
 it his host, alarmed by his protracted absence? 
 
 He had not long to wait for an answer to his query, 
 for he came face to face with the other. 
 
 " Mr. Boynton ! " involuntarily broke from Temple's 
 lips, as the other halted, barring his progress. 
 
 " So we have met," Chester Boynton returned, in a 
 low, husky tone. 
 
 " Yes. But what has happened?" 
 
 Philip was struck by the strange tone and expression
 
 128 TO NO KEMOBSE. 
 
 of the other. That something had occurred he was 
 vaguely conscious something of a startling character. 
 
 " I have come to have a little talk with you," Chester 
 returned. 
 
 "How did you find me?" Philip, in his bewilder- 
 ment, did not know what else to say. 
 
 " I called at the Webb cottage, and they told me I 
 should meet you if I patrolled this path. I should have 
 persisted in aoing so if I had not found you until morn- 
 ing. Did you think to elude me? You may well recoil, 
 false betrayer of my confidence!" 
 
 Philip did recoil. There was something apalling in 
 the tone and look of Chester Boynton. 
 
 " You need not be so vehement, Mr. Boynton," Temple 
 returned, his calmness of voice in marked contrast with 
 the harsh tone of the other. 
 
 " You had rather I would be mild and forgiving, I 
 doubt not. But it is not in me to be so. I'm very hu- 
 man." 
 
 " I wish you would make a coherent charge, that I 
 might answer it. It is cowardly to attack me without 
 permitting me to arm for self-defense." 
 
 " Cowardly, is it? You are a fine man to speak of 
 cowardice! Why didn't you remain and meet my wrath, 
 like a man? I might have respected you then. Instead, 
 you run away, like the base poltroon you are." 
 
 Temple had but recently learnt the lesson of self-con- 
 trol, but his late experience served to restrain him at this 
 moment from what might have been a rash, unpardon- 
 able act. 
 
 " Then your wife has told you of my base folly? " he 
 managed to ask. 
 
 " Ae told rne no!" 
 
 " Then what do you know that you did not know be- 
 fore I came away? I told her to tell you all. She is 
 blameless 
 
 " Stop! " Boynton cried, interrupting.
 
 TO NO KEMOBSE. 129 
 
 " Do you expect me to credit a word you say?" lie de- 
 manded. 
 
 " You may do as you wish. Mrs. Boynton will testify 
 to my truthfulness." 
 
 " JS"o doubt. She would swear to anything you pleased. 
 But I do not depend upon her word nor yours. I have 
 friends who will not allow me to be imposed upon." 
 
 With startling suddenness the truth flashed upon the 
 brain of Philip Temple. 
 
 "Brock the cold, sneaking villain he is the spy!" 
 he cried. 
 
 "How know you that? I would not have betrayed 
 him." 
 
 " 1 know it because no one else is capable of the base 
 action. Who else would attempt to part man and wife, 
 and ruin the happiness of both? It is he who has poisoned 
 your mind from the iirst." 
 
 " Well, suppose he did, if the truth were poison?" 
 
 " What has he told you, Mr. Boynton? " 
 
 " Something which you dare not deny ! " 
 
 " I shall deny nothing that is true. But I desire the 
 privilege of explaining to you whatever may appear to 
 you in so terrible a light. God knows that I deserve almost 
 the worst that you can say to me; but I wish to be con- 
 demned for what I have done, and not for what I have 
 not done. And I insist that you know the truth, that 
 your wife may be cleared from every shadow of doubt. 
 You may well doubt me, but it is infamous in you to dis- 
 trust her!" 
 
 A moment of silence fell between them. 
 
 The breathing of the two men was audible to each 
 other, so still it was about them. 
 
 The shadows had lengthened and deepened. The moon- 
 light rested upon the tree tops, and upon the face of the 
 mountain; but where they stood it was growing rapidly 
 dark. 
 
 " What you say sounds very fine," Boynton said, at 
 last. 
 9
 
 130 TO NO REMORSE. 
 
 " Will you allow me to make my own confession?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then listen." 
 
 Philip rapidly detailed what had passed between Tracy 
 and himself at the Gridley dwelling, and upon their jour- 
 ney thither. He came to the evening before his departure 
 from Gridley's. This was the hardest part of all. He 
 began, repeating every word of that preliminary conver- 
 sation with Tracy, which had preceded his own passionate 
 outburst. Before confessing the latter he hesitated. 
 
 " Go on," Boynton commanded. " You haven't reached 
 the climax yet, I know. Remember, Mr. Brock passed 
 at a very important moment. Tell the whole don't you 
 withhold a single syllable!" 
 
 "You need have no fears I shall not spare myself," 
 Temple replied. 
 
 And he did not. Everything was told. And in con- 
 clusion he said: 
 
 " Now you know the truth that your wife is as noble 
 as you could wish her to be; that her honor is as spotless 
 as " 
 
 "Stop!" Boynton a^ain cried. His hands were 
 clenched, his face fairly livid with
 
 WOMANLF INGENUITY. 131 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 WOMANLY INGENUITY. 
 
 "Now withered murder, with, his stealthy pace, 
 Moves like a ghost.'' 
 
 Shafapeare. 
 
 "Womanly ingenuity set to work by womanly compassion." 
 
 Macaulay. 
 
 " Curl's wa'n't it Jenny?" 
 
 For about the twentieth time in the last hour Jason "Webb 
 gave utterance to this query. And each time Jenny re- 
 plied: " I can't help worrying about it, Jason!" 
 
 I was of Chester Boynton's strange looks when he had 
 called to inquire for Philip Temple that these comments 
 were uttered. 
 
 Boynton's appearance and speech filled them first, with 
 wonder and later with vague alarm. For the clock had 
 struck twelve, and their boarder had not appeared. 
 
 " What keeps him so ? You don't suppose Jenny 
 interrupted herself, and looked into the face of her hus- 
 band. 
 
 It was late for them to be sitting up ; yet they were 
 wide awake. The oil burned low in the lamp which 
 stood on the table between them. Jason had made a 
 pretense of reading his newspaper for some time. But 
 now he flung it down and sprang to his feet. 
 
 " I'm going to meet him," he declared, decisively. 
 
 " May be he won't like it," she suggested. 
 
 " I don't care he may lump it, then." 
 
 " I guess I'll go, too," said Mrs. Webb, rising and throw- 
 ing a shawl over her graceful shoulders. 
 
 " What for?" her husband remonstrated. 
 
 " I don't want to stay here alone," was the cleverly 
 contrived response. 
 
 " Well, come along." 
 
 They went out, locking the door after them. Only the 
 higher points of the landscape were now lighted by the
 
 132 WOMANLY INGENUITY. 
 
 rays of the declining moon. The hollows and level 
 spaces were all in shadow, and the gloom enshrouding 
 them constantly deepened. 
 
 They struck into the path, and walked, at first, slowly, 
 but as they proceeded quickening their pace. 
 
 A deathlike stillness reigned. Occasionally a light 
 breeze whispered in the tree-tops; once, at a great dis- 
 taiice a whippoorwill's cry was faintly audible. The 
 Webbs paused as they heard it, thinking it was the cry 
 of a human being. But they speedily discovered their 
 mistake, and moved on again. 
 
 " Do you suppose we shall see that strange light?" 
 Jenny queried, clinging close to the arm of her husband. 
 
 " Like enough." 
 
 "What shall we do?" 
 
 " Let it shine. Who cares, so long as no harm is 
 done?" 
 
 " There was harm done to you the other night." 
 
 " There wouldn't have been if I hadn't been careless." 
 
 There was another interval of silence. Then she spoke 
 again: 
 
 " It is strange we don't meet him!" 
 
 "Mr. Temple?" 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " So it is. I wonder what Mr. Boynton wanted of 
 him?" 
 
 " I don't know. And yet " She hesitated, glancing 
 cautiously backward. 
 
 "What is it, Jenny?" 
 
 " I heard something yesterday." 
 
 - You heard what?" 
 
 "A piece of gossip, you will say." 
 
 "From Rice's wife?" 
 
 " She got it from some of the servants over at the sum- 
 mer hotel." 
 
 " Well, what did she hear." 
 
 "You don't like gossip, Jason!" She laughed mis- 
 chievously, indicating that he had " lectured " her upon
 
 WOMAHLY 
 
 the weakness of her sex at some time in the past, for 
 which she could now be revenged. 
 
 " Well, I don't, that's certain," he said in a crestfallen 
 way. He continued: 
 
 " But I thought you were going to say something about 
 Boynton something that might explain his strange ap- 
 pearance of to-night." 
 
 " So I was." 
 
 " Then go on don't bother!" 
 
 She lowered her tones almost to a whisper. 
 
 "They say that Mr. Temple OUT Mr. Temple and 
 Mrs. Boynton think a great deal of each other," she de- 
 clared, with slow emphasis. 
 
 "Eh!" 
 
 " And that they were engaged before she married this 
 man. If that is true, Mr. Boynton may have been jeal- 
 ous to-night." 
 
 " So he might, if it is true. But it may be all moon- 
 shine. Those servants are fearful gossips, and Jimjs 
 wife is a whole team at story -telling. Don't you repeat 
 it to a soul, Jenny!" 
 
 " You needn't be afraid of my doing it. I oughtn't to 
 have told you, I suppose." 
 
 " Perhaps not." 
 
 They were silent again. They had reached the " haunt- 
 ed" spot, and both involuntarily glanced toward the 
 place where the mysterious light usually shone. 
 
 " It isn't there, for a wonder!" Jason exclaimed. 
 
 They passed on in silence. But they had proceeded 
 less than a doeen paces when Jenny suddenly came to a 
 halt, clutching the arm of her companion. 
 
 "What is that?" 
 
 She pointed at a dark object lying across the path. 
 
 "A log of wood isn't it?" he returned, more quiet- 
 nerved. They both advanced, bent nearer the object, 
 and then recoiled, an ejaculation breaking from the lips 
 of Jason, a scream from his wife. 
 
 It was not a log of wood lying across the path. It was
 
 a man, and he lay as motionless and silent as though he 
 were dead. 
 
 "Oh, mercy!" Mrs. Webb cried, in frantic horror. 
 
 " Don't take on so he may not be dead," said Jason, 
 reassuringly. 
 
 He bent over the motionless form, Jenny standing 
 near with clasped hands and pallid face. The figure lay 
 upon its face, and as Webb gently turned him over upon 
 his back, he saw that it was Philip Temple his face 
 blanched, and smeared with blood. 
 
 "He has been murdered! Mr. Boynton murdered 
 him!" Jenny exclaimed, wringing her hands. 
 
 " Hush!" admonished her husband. " It isn't safe for 
 you to say that, Jenny," he continued. " We hain't no 
 right to charge the crime ag'in anybody, and we better 
 be careful. Maybe he isn't dead. I don't b'lieve he is. 
 He isn't cold, anyhow. But we mustn't stand here and 
 do nothing. Can't you run over to the hotel and tell 
 'em?" 
 
 " No, no! I can't alone." 
 
 " Of course you needn't. I hadn't ought to asked you. 
 The first thing is to see if he is alive, and if he is the 
 next thing is to get him to the house as lively as ever we can. 
 If he's dead, then we can both go to the hotel and tell 
 'em. I wish lie hadn't called to inquire for Mr. Temple 
 at our house. I wish we didn't know nothing about it. 
 We'll be witnesses don't you see?" 
 
 While speaking, Webb had not been idle. He tore 
 open the young man's shirt and placed his hand over his 
 heart. 
 
 "Pie's dead no, he isn't!" he exclaimed, in rapid con- 
 tradiction. 
 
 " He's alive, but scarcely. Why in blazes didn't I 
 fetch my lantern ? Can you help me to carry him, so that 
 we sha'n't hurt him more'n can be helped? I'll bear his 
 heft, and you can stiddy him a little. Ready ?" 
 
 She was ready. Gently they raised the unfortunate 
 young man, tears from Jenny's eyes falling upon his
 
 WOMANLY itfGEtfmTY. 135 
 
 white face as they did so. And then, slowly, carefully 
 they made their way toward the cottage. Never did the 
 distance seem so great, nor the path so full of stones and 
 pieces of dead wood. Their arms ached, and they were 
 in a fever of anxiety for fear that the delay would pre- 
 clude the possibility of saving the young man's life. 
 
 What if he should die while they were bearing him to 
 the cottage? Would it not have better to have left him 
 where he lay and hastened for help? 
 
 They saw the light from their own window at last. 
 In another moment they had entered, and the young 
 man, white and dreadfully still, was laid upon his own 
 bed. 
 
 Once more Jason felt for his heart-beats, and once 
 more he was reassured. 
 
 " You. hitch up the team and ride for the doctor," 
 Jenny exclaimed, growing brave when she realized that 
 the case was not a hopeless one, and that there was some- 
 thing for them to do. 
 
 "I will get some water hot, and see if I can't fetch 
 him to while you're gone," she continued, beginning to 
 bustle around the rooms. 
 
 She brought out a bottle of brandy, which was kept in 
 the house "against a case of sickness," and forced a few 
 drops of it between the closed lips of the patient. A 
 fire was made to burn in the kitchen range, and the tea- 
 kettle sang as merrily as though it were not a most 
 dreadful and solemn occasion. 
 
 Jason did not stop a moment. Jenny hearR the rattle 
 of his buggy as he drove away down the road, and said to 
 herself: 
 
 "He won't be gone long, I know, and when the doctor 
 comes we shall know the worst. I do hope he'll live. It 
 is so dreadful to have a murder committed almost in your 
 own family, as you might say. And beside, I don't be- 
 lieve Mr. Temple deserves such a dreadful fate. He is 
 an honest looking chap, and that frank "in his ways that 
 nobody would suspect him of doing wrong. And a gen-
 
 tleman, too, though not ashamed to talk with poor folks 
 like Jason and me as though we were as good as he." 
 
 Thus the busy woman ran on, keeping herself company 
 with the sound of her own cheery voice. And all the 
 while she worked over the unfortunate young man. 
 
 There was no wound upon the latter save upon his head. 
 He had been felled by a heavy blow upon the temple. 
 
 There were other bruises about his head, as though his 
 assailant had followed up his cruel attack even after his 
 victim was defenseless. 
 
 Mrs. "Webb had plenty of presence of mind and a 
 liberal degree of good sense, therefore her ministrations 
 to the injured man were not wholly unsuccessful ; and she 
 certainly rendered his chances no worse, as too many 
 might have done under the circumstances. 
 
 The rattle of wheels sounded at last. The door was 
 opened without ceremony, and a short, round-faced man 
 came in. He nodded to Jenny, went directly to the bed- 
 side of Mr. Temple, and bent over the latter. 
 
 Jason came in just as the doctor had finished his ex- 
 amination. 
 
 "A bad case!" declared the physician, deliberately 
 facing the eager watchers.
 
 y 
 
 HER FAILING. 137 
 
 CHAPTEK XXII. 
 
 HER FAILING. 
 
 " Her failing, while her faith to me remains, I would conceal." 
 
 Milton. 
 
 It was early the next morning that a horse and car- 
 riage drew up before Vinton's retreat. It was a livery 
 team from the neighboring village; and it was a stable 
 boy who alighted and assisted his lady passenger to do 
 the same. 
 
 " Tracy is it you ?" cried Lou "Wentworth, who was 
 an early riser, and was consequently out upon the ver- 
 anda, watching the white mist as it was wafted away 
 across the valley by the light breeze. As her gaze fell 
 upon the countenance of her friend, however, a cry of 
 alarm broke from her lips. 
 
 "What is it? what has happened?" she eagerly ques- 
 tioned, for Mrs. Boynton's face was deathly white, and 
 there was a look about her eyes that betokened a sleep- 
 less night. 
 
 " Is he here?" Tracy breathlessly questioned. 
 
 "Whom do you mean?" 
 
 " My husband." 
 
 " I don't know I haven't seen him. I heard some- 
 one say that Mr. Brock had come." 
 
 " They were together they came last night," Tracy 
 rapidly uttered. The boy had driven off, and they stood 
 alone upon the veranda, holding each other's hands, and 
 face to face. 
 
 "Tell me, what has happened?" Lou implored, in an 
 agony of apprehension. 
 
 "Oh! how can I tell you, or anyone !"Sptrs. Boyn- 
 ton covered her face with her hands for a moment, and 
 was silent. Then she looked at her friend a^ain, and it 
 was plain that she was exercising an almost iron control 
 upon her emotions. 
 
 " I must be calm," she said, more slowly."
 
 138 HER FAILING. 
 
 "Have you had trouble with each other?" Lou ques- 
 tioned, in a tone scarce above a whisper. For her ob- 
 servant eyes had perceived, upon more than one occasion, 
 that husband and wife did not always agree. 
 
 " I can't stop to tell you now you shall know all in 
 due time," Mrs. Boynton replied, and she added: 
 
 "First I must know if Chester is here; and if he is, 
 I must see him. Perhaps I apprehend too great evils. 
 I am excited; my nerves are. overwrought." 
 
 She hastened into the house, ascended to her rooms, and 
 entered. Someone was sitting in a large easy chair by 
 the window. He did not stir as she entered. She ad- 
 vanced and saw that it was Chester, and that he was 
 asleep. 
 
 But he aroused as she approached, and started to his 
 feet. 
 
 " Tracy! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes I couldn't wait for you to come back," she re- 
 turned, going up to him. 
 
 He stared at ner for a moment in a blank, bewildered 
 way. Then he took her hands in his, and gazed earnestly 
 down into her face. 
 
 " Why did you follow me? " he asked slowly. 
 
 " Because, I feared 1 know not what." 
 
 What did you fear?" 
 
 " That you had gone to see him." 
 
 " Mr. Temple, do you mean? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And suppose I did what of that? " 
 
 His face darkened as she uttered no response, and there 
 was half-suppressed passion in his tones as he continued: 
 
 "So you couldn't trust me to deal justly with him? 
 You feared that I might be just, perhaps! Can it be 
 that you dared not trust your heart's idol to my hands, 
 lest lie suffer?" 
 
 "Chester Chester!" she cried, clinging to his arm, 
 and tears streaming from her eyes.
 
 ttER FAILING. 
 
 Ger tone, the expression of anguish upon her beauti- 
 ful face, touched him, even in his jealous frenzy. 
 
 " Forgive me, Tracy ! I did not mean that," he said, 
 relenting. 
 
 And he went on, as she stood, in that beseeching atti- 
 tude before him: 
 
 " I ought not to be so harsh toward you, I know. The 
 fault is not yours, except to a slight degree. I have not 
 ministered to your happiness as I might have done; and 
 it is no wonder that you love him better; than me. 
 But" 
 
 " Stop ! " she uttered, almost sternly. He was silent, 
 amazed by the imperativeness of her tone and the gesture 
 accompanying it. 
 
 " I do not love Philip Temple better than you I do 
 not love him at all," she cried, speaking rapidly. " I 
 never loved him had I done so, I should not have be- 
 come your wife. Yet I confess that I prized his friend- 
 ship, that I was charmed by his speech, and admired the 
 chivalrous character which, in spite of his weakness, I 
 know he possesses. But that is not love. Oh ! why have 
 you distrusted me so? Why have you been so blind to 
 the truth ? It was your growing distrust which has been 
 sundering our hearts. 1 ou should have had more faith 
 in the honor of her whom you have made your wife. 
 Your violent jealousy frightened me. Your sudden de- 
 parture last night nearly drove me frantic, for, in the 
 mood which I t'eared you were in, I dare not think what 
 rash thing you might do." 
 
 While she was speaking a gradual change came over 
 his countenance. There seemed to be, within his heart, 
 a struggle betwixt doubt and conviction. But jealousy, 
 once it finds root in the human ? icart is the most stubborn 
 of passions to subdue. It is not satisfied with cold proofs. 
 It feeds, and burns within itself. 
 
 As they stood thus, she gazing imploringly up into his 
 face, he with downcast eyes, there came a sharp, quick 
 knock at the door.
 
 iracy started back, oppressed by a sense of impending 
 ill. Her husband, with an impatient frown hastened to 
 the door and flung it open. Two men stood outside. 
 One was a large, coarse-featured person, with small, 
 shrewd eyes; the other was Jason Webb. The fact of 
 the latter was stern ; of the former determined. 
 
 "This Mr. Boynton?" the large man inquired, in a 
 gruff tone. 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Chester Boynton?" fumbling in his breast pocket. 
 " That is my name. Oblige me with stating your busi- 
 ness ? This is a rather early hour for a stranger to in- 
 trude." 
 
 " It is, rather. But business is business. I've in- 
 truded on folks at more unseasonable times than this. 
 Hauled one chap right out of bed not long ago been 
 stealing you understand." 
 
 He had by this time produced the document for which 
 he had been fumbling in his pockets. 
 __ " I have a warrant for your arrest, Mr. Boynton, upon 
 a charge of a probably successful attempt upon the life of 
 Philip Temple for the doctor says he must die. Better 
 not make any trouble. As you look like a gentleman I 
 won't put the wristlets on if you're peaceable!" 
 
 The man clapped one brawny hand upon Boynton's 
 shoulder as he spoke. At the same time Tracy sprang 
 between them frantically crying: 
 
 "He is innocent! I know he is innocent! he would 
 never do that, never, never/" 
 
 The sheriff gently pushed her aside. The gruffness of 
 his manner all vanished at sight of her beauty and the 
 anguish of her countenance. 
 
 " This is too bad, 1 declare!" he exclaimed, shrugging 
 his shoulders. But fortunately, perhaps, the young wife 
 could withstand no further strain opon her senses. For, 
 at that moment, she was overcome with faintness, and 
 sank in a swoon at the officer's feet. 
 
 There was confusion in the hotel at once. It had al-
 
 HEE FAILING. lil 
 
 ready become noised among the guests that an officer had 
 come to arrest Chester Boynton for murder, and the cor- 
 ridor became crowded with servants of the house and 
 friends of the unfortunate couple. 
 
 " I will go with you," Boynton declared, as soon as he 
 could find voice to speak. " But," he continued, in a 
 tone of wonderful calmness, "I assure you to begin with 
 that you have made a grave mistake. I am innocent of 
 any crime; I saw Mr. Temple in all his health and 
 strength last night, and parted from him with no thought 
 of violence." 
 
 "That may all be," the sheriff replied. "I don't con- 
 vict you, bear in mind. But the charge is backed up 
 pretty strong, and I must do my duty." 
 
 Before leaving the corridor, Bo v;iton espied Lou "Went- 
 worth, and hastily said to her ;is iv passed: 
 
 "Take care of my poor darling; see that nothing for 
 her comfort is left undone. Tell her that I am innocent. I 
 know that the test will be a severe one to her, but if she 
 withstands it, the angels of heaven could never shake my 
 confidence in her again!" 
 
 This was all he had time to say; and in another mo- 
 ment he was hurried away by the impatient officer. 
 * * *#'* *'* * * 
 
 Mrs. Boynton, upon recovering consciousness, recov- 
 ered at the same time her usual calmness. Now that 
 the worst had happened, the tension to which her nerves 
 had been subjected was slackened, and she became 
 marvelously cool and self-possessed. 
 
 "Yes, Chester is innocent as I am," she repeatedly 
 declared in the long interview which she presently held 
 with Roy Blanchard and Lou Wentworth for to them 
 alone did she feel like entrusting the many things which 
 the emergency required to be done. Roy developed, at 
 this time, a surprising amount of sound judgment, and a 
 knowledge of what the occasion required. He had seen 
 Jason Webb, and obtained from him the evidence which 
 certainly made the case a dark one for Chester Boynton.
 
 HEB FAILING. 
 
 " If Mr. Temple is still alive, cannot the truth be ob- 
 tained from him?" Lou questioned. 
 
 " He hasn't spoken a word since the Webbs discovered 
 him," Roy answered, gravely. 
 
 " Doesn't the doctor give any hope?" . 
 
 "Very little." 
 
 " And if he should die, without recovering conscious- 
 ness?"- 
 
 " The case would be a dark one, that is all. But we'll 
 hope for the best. In the meantime we must get legal 
 counsel for Mr. Boynton. He must have the best." 
 
 Roy went away upon this important errand. He con- 
 sulted with Mr. Boynton, who was locked into a room in 
 the village court-house for the place could boast of no 
 jail. An attempt to obtain Chester's release under bail 
 was made, but without success. The case was too grave 
 a one for, as the hours passed, it became almost a cer- 
 tainty that Philip Temple would die. Mr. Boynton 
 must await the result of the crime, and if it terminated 
 fatally, then he would be required to answer to the charge 
 of murder. 
 
 Tracy visited him also; and when she came forth, and 
 entered the carriage in which Lou and Roy were waiting 
 for her, there was a look of tearful joy upon her beauti- 
 ful face such an expression as they had never seen there 
 before. 
 
 They did not ask the cause. Instinctively they knew 
 the truth, before she said to them, after a loDg period of 
 silence: 
 
 " Whatever comes, we trust each other. And when he 
 is cleared of this dreadful suspicion we shall begin a new 
 life, into which no distrust or lack of harmony can en- 
 ter." 
 
 This was all she said to them then. And in her new 
 happiness the joy of reconciliation she seemed for the 
 time to almost forget the dreadful danger menacing her 
 husband. 
 
 The days that immediately followed were full of pain-
 
 HER FAILING. 143 
 
 ful suspense. At the Webb cottage the victim of that 
 terrible crime, Philip Temple, lay pale and unconscious, 
 his life hanging by a thread. Tracy visited the cottage 
 every day ; and she spent mamy an hour at the bedside of 
 her former lover, ministering to his needs with all the 
 tenderness of a sister. 
 
 " Oh, live, live/" she implored in her gentle tones, 
 whenever she was left alone in the room with the patient. 
 Upon one of these occasions he opened his eyes and tixed 
 them upon her face. It seemed as though he recognized 
 her as though he were about to speak. With intense 
 eagerness she bent over him. 
 
 " Philip, do you not know me?" she softly questioned. 
 
 His lips moved ; his face lighted up. With mad eager- 
 ness she bent her face closer to his, breathlessly exclaim- 
 ing: 
 
 " Tell me, Philip, who struck you ? I am Tracy 
 don't you see? Tell me who struck the cruel blow?" 
 
 Would he answer? It seemed for a moment as though 
 he would surely do so. A wild, swift prayer went up 
 from her heart. But the next moment she drew back 
 with a cry of dispair. For Philip had closed his eyes; 
 the look of recognition faded from his face ; he sank into 
 the heavy stupor which had characterized his illness from 
 the first.
 
 144 THE END OF IT ALL. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE END OF IT ALL. 
 
 "The tale repeated o'er and o'er, 
 With change of place and change of name, 
 Disguised, transformed, and yet the same, 
 We've heard a hundred times before." 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 " The doctor says he may live, but that he cannot re- 
 cover his memory of past events for months ; perhaps 
 never." 
 
 Roy Blanchard said this to Lou, as they walked 
 slowly away from the Webb cottage, nearly two weeks 
 the events just described. 
 
 The hour was near sunset. The air was pure and 
 sweet, after a balmy September day. Roy and Lou were 
 also among the frequent visitors at the cottage, and they 
 nearly always went together. 
 
 During these two weeks they had got along very har- 
 moniously. Perhaps this was because they had not ven- 
 tured upon anything like love making during the entire 
 period, as they had been deeply engaged by the troubles 
 of their friends. 
 
 " How, then, will Mr. Boynton's case ever be settled?" 
 Lou questioned. 
 
 "If Mr. Temple lives, the sentence will not be so 
 heavy, at least. But there will certainly be a sentence of 
 some severity, and Mr. Boynton must remain under the 
 shadow of a most terrible crime!" 
 
 This was rather gloomily spoken, and Lou made no 
 response. For several moments they walked onward in 
 silence. Suddenly Roy paused and sank upon a flat rock 
 beside the path. Lou looked at him in surprise. 
 
 " Why have you stopped here? " she asked. 
 
 " It is a good place to get rested," he answered. 
 
 "Are you tired?" 
 
 " Yes, rather. Aren't you? I wish you would sit here
 
 THE END OF IT ALL. 145 
 
 with me. I haven't had a good talk with you for a long 
 while." 
 
 She hesitated. 
 
 " I think I'm not tired," she slowly declared. Yet she 
 allowed him to draw her to a seat by his side. 
 
 " Don't you think it is about time that we got better 
 acquainted with each other?" he asked. 
 
 \ I thought we were pretty well acquainted already," 
 she demurely answered. 
 
 " It is all upon one side. You understand me well 
 enough, I'm sure. You can see that I am miserable 
 nearly all the time miserable because of my uncertainty. 
 If I only knew whether you loved me, or were plotting 
 to make a misanthrope of me. If I only knew." 
 
 She looked at him in vague wonder. There was a deal 
 of passionate earnestness expressed in his tones. Was it 
 real or feigned? Lou Wentworth's heart throbbed with a 
 sudden hope. Was he in earnest, after all? If so, why 
 did he not speak plainly? If he loved her, and wished 
 her to be his wife, why did he not tell her so ? 
 
 " I'm going to take the risks," Roy went on, with a 
 determined air. " I'm not going to remain in doubt an- 
 other hour. I cannot suffer from humiliated pride now; 
 it is only my heart that can suffer, and in that I have no 
 rest already." 
 
 He paused, looking at her with beseeching earnestness. 
 Her face was half -averted ; her eyes drooped. 
 
 " Whenever I have approached you in anything like an 
 earnest manner," he continued, " you have treated me with 
 a lightness which has warned me off. I have tried very 
 hard to satisfy myself that what I have heard concerning 
 you was false, but I have been baffled by your guarded- 
 ness. But I shall not be frightened off again. If you 
 have the heart to add me to the list of your victims you 
 may do so. I am in your power be unmerciful if you 
 will." 
 
 She interrupted him by a sudden, imperative gesture. 
 10
 
 146 THE END OF IT ALL. 
 
 "What do you mean?" she demanded, an indignant 
 flash in her tones. He hesitated, and she went on : 
 
 " Tell me why do you speak of me in that way ? 
 Whom do you mean by my list of victims ? Do you ac- 
 cuse me of winning hearts and casting them off ?" 
 
 He half rose to his feet; he caught her hands in both 
 his own, holding them fast. 
 
 " Isn't it true, then ?" he questioned. " I was told that 
 you were heartless, that you had ruined the existence of 
 a worthy young man by coquetry. I was told that you 
 delighted in the use of your power over the hearts of men ; 
 that you won them as a mere idle sport, and laughed 
 at their folly. I was told all this before I saw you, 
 and I was warned to keep out of your meshes. But in 
 vain. I have loved you from the first, and I love you 
 now as the saints love their patron! Lou, Lou! are you 
 heartless? Is it impossible for you to be won?" 
 
 "Who told you this?" she demanded, drawing away 
 from him, as though in doubt. 
 
 " TeH me it is false, and you shall know who has been 
 your traducer," he eagerly returned. 
 
 " It is false every word. I never pretended to love 
 anyone. I I once rejected the love or one whom I had 
 regarded only as a friend. But I never encouraged him, 
 and that his heart was not broken is proven by his mar- 
 rying a later choice and for love, too. " 
 
 Possibly she would have said more if he had permitted. 
 But he did not. He drew her to his heart in a close 
 embrace, a flood of words springing from his lips such 
 words of fond endearment as only a first true love can 
 inspire. Blushing, trembling, with tears of unutterable 
 joy in her eyes, she yielded herself to his strong, enfold- 
 ing arms. 
 
 How the moments of that sweet silence flew! How 
 short human life would be if all its moments sped thus! 
 
 She drew herself shyly aw,ay at length, and they seated 
 themselves upon the rock. He still clung to her hands, 
 caressing them.
 
 THE END OF IT ALL. 147 
 
 "How strange that we should misunderstand each 
 other so long," she softly exclaimed, gazing out among 
 the deepening shadowy. 
 
 " It is not strange, under the conditions of our ac- 
 quaintance. I was warned against you, and like a blind 
 fool I resolved not to love you. I resolved that you 
 should not triumph over me, as you had done over other 
 victims. That is why I appeared so fickle. My impulses 
 would at times make me betray myself, and then when I 
 imagined you were trying to draw me on to make a 
 declaration of my love I would become guarded again. 
 And you loved me all the while, darling? Did your' 
 
 "Tfes!" Yery softly the word was spoken. More 
 time fleeted past. And then, eagerly : 
 
 " But you have not told me the name of the enemy 
 who traduced me?" 
 
 He hesitated. Then he replied : 
 
 " I half distrusted him all the while. And yet I could 
 not see why he should wish to keep us apart. It was 
 Mr. Brock!" 
 
 *' The villain!" she cried. " He would not let anyone 
 in the world be happy if he could help it. He would 
 like to have everyone lonely, and bitter, and shivering 
 in the cold, like himself. He tried to separate Mr. Boyn- 
 ton and Tracy. But for him her husband would never 
 have been jealous. But, like a serpent, Mr. Brock fasci- 
 nated his victim, winning his confidence. Then, upon 
 the evening that Philip Temple was first at the hotel, 
 and he and Tracy sat upon the veranda together, Mr. 
 Brock and her husband were out upon one of their strolls 
 together. "When they returned, Tracy was frightened by 
 Mr. Boynton's appearance. He did not explain the cause 
 until since his arrest. Then he told her that Mr. Brock 
 told him the story of his life. How that he wedded, 
 years ago, a beautiful girl; how he nearly worshiped 
 her, how he was then like other men, full of confidence 
 in his fellow beings ; and how his wife was won by a for- 
 mer lover, and lost to him, plunging him. into life-long
 
 148 THE END OF IT ALL. 
 
 misery, and causing him to become the misanthrope he 
 is. He told the story in such painfully vivid language 
 that it made a strong impression upon the mind or Mr. 
 Boynton. And then his jealousy was born, for, from 
 Brock, he also learned that Tracv and Mr. Temple were 
 once betrothed lovers. Brock lias been the serpent in 
 Eden from the first." 
 
 " And to think how near he came to keeping us apart, 
 too! I could throttle the villain!" Roy vehemently ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 A minute later Lou sprang to her feet. 
 
 "See how dark it is growing," she cried. 
 
 In their new-found joy they had not noticed that the 
 twilight had deepened into darkness. There was no moon, 
 and mere were cloud -patches overhead. 
 
 " We must go back, and hasten, too," Lou eagerly de- 
 clared. She shivered as she glanced toward the darkness 
 into which they must go. She thought of the mysterious 
 light; of the fatal attack upon Philip Temple; of the 
 wild, strange stories concerning the locality which were 
 afloat. 
 
 Together they moved along the path. As they neared 
 the spot at which the strange light was usually seen, Lou 
 slung more closely to the arm of her companion. 
 
 When they reached the spot, both instinctively glanced 
 toward the place whence the light was accustomed to 
 shine. But it was not there. The spot was enshrouded 
 in densest gloom. But as they moved on, they heard the 
 muffled tread of a horse. They paused, and withdrew 
 themselves from the path. Lou trembled violently ; and 
 Roy, in spite of his accustomed self-possession, was in- 
 stinctively impressed by a sense of impending events. 
 
 The horse drew nearer ; then the sound of voices be- 
 came audible. These continued for several moments. 
 Then there were other sounds a shout, the rapid tramp 
 of many feet, the galloping of a horse, and several objects 
 sped past the place of our friends' concealment. An in- 
 stant later there were other shouts, seemingly in pursuit;
 
 THE ESTD OF IT AUL. 
 
 lights Cashed athwart the gftoom; and last, with gtartling 
 
 ~.L~ >. _^I- 1 . I i I. .!?".. -_ '.. 
 
 Boy saw a man, who was running part of 
 stumble and fill headlong to the earth, uttering a, low 
 ay of pain. A moment later two men with lantern? 
 rushed upon die scene, and one of them bent over the 
 one who had fallen. Boy recognized both of the new- 
 comers. One was Jmi Kk^ the other th^Tillj^fiheriff. 
 And at the same time others appeared, who were unmis- 
 takably comitahlcft. Several ran on in pursuit of the 
 
 1 We've got one of the rascals, anyhow,'* Bice ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 -IshedeadP the sheriff asked. 
 
 "Ho." 
 
 a Well take him along with us, tiaea, and make him 
 'peach' on the others. 77 
 
 Boy Blanehard at this moment stepped into the path, 
 Jjam. enmnng to his arm, pallid with sear. 
 
 Jim Race and the sheriff starred at them in open- 
 mouthed astonishment. 
 
 ^ What is the meaning of thisf Boy demanded. 
 
 " Hoss-dueTes,"" Bice laconic*!] T answered. He s t,c Kd 
 over the fallen stranger, tall and gaunt, swinging his 
 lantern to and fim. 
 
 tt They stole my hoes a speH ago,and theyVe stole four 
 or five at the village afioie this. And last night they got 
 throe more front tap liiu j HlalJf , W^'^e been watelion" 
 for 'em, and now we\e got on their track. And I guess 
 when we get 7 em an m thejoeknp that mysterious light 
 wont 
 
 Boy listened to this piece of information with uncon- 
 cealed eagerness. A sudden, * :l Hrfl"ng suspicion had 
 taken possession of his brain. He bent over the fallen 
 thief, who lay in sullen. !<*** staring up into their 
 faces. 
 
 ** TeH me, man," Boy Blanehard cried, "gazing down 
 into the face of the ruffian, " do you know whom struck
 
 150 THE END OF IT ALL. 
 
 down Philip Temple two weeks ago this night ? If you 
 know, speak and save an innocent man from condemna- 
 tion." 
 
 The man compressed his lips; for a moment he hesi- 
 tated. 
 
 "If I should tell you?" he presently asked in a husky 
 tone. 
 
 " All that influence and money can do for you shall be 
 done," was the quick reply. 
 
 " All right. I didn't knock the chap down, and the 
 one that's arrested didn't, neither. The cap'n did it 
 the boss of our gang. The young chap was too persistent 
 trying to find out what our signal light meant, and so the 
 boss served him as he did young Webb only this chap, 
 'cording to all accounts, got the heaviest rap. Pretty 
 nigh killed him, didn't it?" 
 
 Who can depict the eager delight with which Roy 
 Blanchard and Lou Wentworth listened to this confes- 
 sion, made there by the weird light of swaying lanterns, 
 with the dark shadows all around them? Or describe 
 their haste back to the hotel, and the joy which they 
 brought to the beautiful, faithful wife. 
 
 " I knew Chester was innocent !" Tracy repeatedly 
 cried, in the ecstacy of her joy. " I knew God would not 
 
 let him suffer for another's crime!" 
 
 ******* 
 
 It is not in the fate of the horse thieves, who had so 
 long held their mountain retreat, unsuspected by those 
 who lived below, that the reader is most interested. Nor 
 do you care whether Jim Rice, and the village people re- 
 covered their missing horses or not. You may have a 
 passing interest to know that Mr. Stacy recovered from 
 his fractured limb; that Jason Webb and his brave little 
 wife continued to live in simple prosperity, a whole 
 world to each other. You have a deeper anxiety for 
 Philip Temple, who had been called upon to suffer so 
 much. You are curious to know what has become of the 
 cold, snake-like Mr. Brock ; the winsome Alma Bui-ton ;
 
 THE END OF IT ALL. 151 
 
 perhaps you have a passing thought of the Gridleys, and 
 of the other minor actors in our little drama. 
 
 Concerning the horse thieves, let it suffice that their 
 capture and confessions cleared Chester Boynton from 
 every dark suspicion. And, upon his release, he gave his 
 personal attention to the case of Philip Temple, and 
 through his influence one of the most noted physicians 
 in the country was secured to concentrate his skill in the 
 young man's behalf. The result was not achieved at 
 once. There were weeks of uncertainty; but the efforts 
 of his friends were at last crowned with success, and 
 Philip got well slowly, yet surely. 
 
 The next summer saw them all back at Yinton's Re- 
 treat all save Mr. Temple and Brock. The latter went 
 south for the winter; and it was thought that he found 
 the tropical climate congenial, for he has not been seen 
 at the north since. The reconciliation of Tracy and her 
 husband was complete. Their experience, in which both 
 were at fault, has taught them a lesson, and now their 
 love and confidence is building upon surer foundations. 
 They meet Philip occasionally. He and Chester are the 
 warmest of friends. Yet the memory of his own folly 
 the giving way to that mad sweep of passion can never 
 be effaced. He will never marry. Of this we are sure, 
 for, in his heart of hearts, he loves Tracy Boynton still; 
 loves her the better for her faithfulness to her husband ; 
 for her strength, her purity, her honor. But there is no 
 danger of his ever becoming weak again, for his regard 
 for the wife of Chester Boynton, though deep and strong, 
 is as chaste as that of a brother. 
 
 Roy and Lou were not married for nearly a year. 
 Since their return from their wedding tour abroad they 
 have dwelt near the home of the Boyntons, and in sum- 
 mer they go to the mountain retreat where they first met. 
 And there they hold mock-quarrels ; and pretend to mis- 
 understand each other. Lou visits the magic spring and 
 sees the face of her husband reflected there for he leans 
 over her shoulder at the moment. And so their lives go
 
 152' THE END OF IT ALL. 
 
 on n ot all brightness nor all poetry, to be sure, but as 
 happy as true love ever is. It is Southey who said of 
 love and its endurance: 
 
 " It is indestructible ; 
 Its holy flame forever burneth : 
 From heaven it came, to heaven returneth. 
 
 THE END.
 
 
 
 
 11 HP 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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