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Show jf THE HILLMAN ""1 ' By E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM J I CHAPTER XXI Continued. 12 "My own reputation," sho murmured, mur-mured, "Is absolutely of no consequence, conse-quence, but remember that you live hero, and " "Don't bo silly I" ho Interrupted. "What Uoos that matter? And besides, according to you and all tho rest of you here, theso things don't affect a man's reputation they nro expected of him. Sec, I havo rung tho bell for breakfast. Now I am going to tclo-phono tclo-phono down for a messenger boy to go for your clothes." They breakfasted together, n llttlo later, and she made him smoko. lie stood beforo tho window, looking down upon tho river, with his pipe In his mouth and an unfamiliar look upon his face. "Do you suppose that Loulso knows anything!" he asked at length. - "I should think not," she replied. "It Is for you to tell her. I rang up '' tho prince's houso while you wero In tho bathroom. They say that ho has I a broken rib and some bad cuts, bus- - talncd In n motor accident last night, but that ho is In no danger. Tlicro I was nothing about tho affair In tho ' newspapers, and tho prince's servants have evidently been Instructed to gtvo this account to Inquirers." A gleam of Interest shono In John' face. '!By tho bye," ho remarked, "tho prlnco Is' a Frenchman. Ho will very likely expect mo to fight with him." "No hopo of that, my belligerent friend," Sophy declared, with an attempt at-tempt at n smllo. "Tho prince knows that ho Is in England. Ho woutd not be guilty of such an' nnachronlsm. Be-sldca, Be-sldca, ho 'Is in person of wonderfully well-balanced mind. When ho Is htm self again, ho will rcnllzo that what happened to htm Is exactly what he, asked for." John took up his hat and gloves, no glanced at the clock It was n llttlo llt-tlo past eleven. "I am ready," he announced. "Let mo drive you home first" Ills motor was waiting at the door, anil ho left Sophy at her rooms. Beforo Be-foro sho got out, she held his arm for a moment. V alNto "' - "John," she said, "remember that " Loulso is very high-strung and very i sensitive. Be careful I" "There is only ono thing to do or to say," ho answered. "There is only ono way In which I can do it." IIo drovo tho car, down Piccadilly Ilko a man In a dream, steering as enrcfully as usual through tho traffic, and glancing ovcry now and then with unseeing eyes at tho streams of people peo-ple upon tho pavements. Finally hi enmo to a standstill beforo Louisa's i houso and stopped tho cnglno with dc- ' llberato care. Then' ho rang tho bell, J and was shown Into her llttlo draw- I Ing-room, which seemed to havo becomo " n perfect bowor of pink and whlto ' - lilac. jj . He sat watting as If in a dream, j, unable to decldo upon his words, un- -i ablo even to sift his thoughts. Tho j ono purpose with which he had come, j tho one question ho designed to ask, : was burning In his brain. Tho mln- j ntcs of her absenco seemed tragically ) long. a Then at last tho door opened and ;i Louisa entered. Sho camo toward him I1 with n little welcoming smllo upon i her Hps. Her manner was gay, al- I most affectionate t, "Ilnvo you como to tako mo for a p rldo beforo lunch?" sho asked. "Da. j you know, I think that I should really like it I Wo might lunch at Itanolagh i- ou our way homo." j Tho words stuck In his throat. From wncro she was, she saw now tho writ- I in on his faco. Sho stopped short. "What is It?" Bho exclaimed. "Ever since I knew you," ho said slowly, "there havo been odd moments when I have lived In tortnre. During the last fortnight, those moments havo become hours. Last night the end come.' "Are you mad, John?" she demand, ed. "Perhaps," he replied. "Listen. When l left you last night, I went to tho j club In Adelpbl Terrace. There was a ' well-known critic there, comparing you and Latrobe,, On the whole he fa vored you, but ho gave Latrobe tho first place In certain parts. Latrobe, I he said, had had more experience In life. She had had a dozen lovers you, only one I" j She winced. The glad freshness ! seemed suddenly to 'fade from her j face, ner eyes became strained, j "Well?" l "I found Gralllot. I cornered him. j I asked him for the truth about you. I v He put me off with an evasion; I j came down hero and looked at your j window. It was thrco o'clock In the i morning. I dared not come In. A very I ' demon of unrest was In my blood. T stopped at tho night club on my way I back. Sophy was there. I asked her plainly to put me out of my agony; She was like Gralllot. She fenced with me. And then the prince, camo I" 7 "The "prince"wns there?" sho fnl tered. "flo came up to the table where-i where-i Sophy and I were sitting. I think I' wus half mad. I poured him a gluss of vino I told him that you had prow Iscd to becomo my wife. Ue raised Ills glass I can seo him now. no told me, with a smile, that it was the anniversary of tho day on which you promised to becomo his P Loulso shrank bnck. "IIo told you that?" John was on his feet Tho fever was blnzlng once more. "He told mo that, faco to faco I" "And you?" "If wo had been alone," John answered an-swered simply, "I should have killed him. I drovo tho words down his throat. I threw him back to the placo ho had left, and hurt htm rather badly, I'm afraid. Sophy took me homo somehow, and now I am here." Sho leaned a llttlo forward on tho couch. She looked into his face search Ingly, anxiously as if looking for something she could not find, nis Hps wero set in hard, cold lines. The likeness to Stephen had nover been more apparent. 'Listen I" she said. "Ton are n Purl-tan. Purl-tan. Whllo I admire tho splendid self-restraint self-restraint evolved from your creed, It Is partly temperamental, isn't It? I was brought up to seo things differently, and I do seo them differently. Tell me, do you lovo mo?" "Lovo you?" ho repeated. "Yon know it! Could I suffer tho tortures of tho damned if I didn't? Could I como to you with n man's blood upon my hands If I didn't? If tho prlnco lives, It Is simply tho accident of fate. I tell you that if wo had been alono I should havo driven tho breath out of his body. Lovo you I" no rose slowly to her feet. Sho leaned with her elbow upon tho mantelpiece, man-telpiece, and her faco was hidden for a moment. "Let mo think I" sho said. "I don't know what to say to you. I don't know you, John. Thcro isn't anything left of tho John I loved. Let mo look ngnlnl" Sho swung nround. "You spenk of lovo," she went on suddenly. "Do you know what It Is? Do you know that lovo reaches to the heavens, and can also touch tho nethermost neth-ermost depths of hell? If I throw myself on your knees beforo you now, If I link my flngors around your neck, If I whisper to you that in the days tlint were past beforo you camo I had done things I would fain forget, If I told you that from henceforth every second' of my llfo was yours, that my heart beat with yours by day and by night, that I had no other thought, no other dream, than to stay by your side, to seo you happy, to gtvo all thero was of myself Into your keeping, to keep It holy and sacred for you John, what then?" Never a lino in his face softened, no looked at her a moment as ho had looked at tho woman In Piccadilly, into whoso hand ho had dropped gold. "Are you going to tell mo that It Is the truth?" he asked hoarsely, "Think for n single moment of that feeling which you call love, John!" she pleaded. "Listen I I lovo you. It has como to mo at last, after all theso "Am I Too Qood for You, Sophy!" years. It lives in my heart, a greater thing than my ambition, a greater thing than my success, a greater thing than life Itself. I love you, John I Can't you feel, don't you know, that nothing noth-ing clso in life can matter!" Not n line in his face softened, nis teeth had come together. He was like a man upon the rack. "It is true? It is true, then!" he demanded. She looked at him without any reply. The seconds seemed drawn out to an Interminable period, no heard the rolling of the motorbuses in tho street. Once more the perfume of the lilac I jeeraed to choke him.. Then she leaned back and touched the bell. "The prlnco spoke tho truth," she said. "I think you had better go I" CHAPIEU JCXAL Before the wide-flung window of her nttic bedchamber, Sophy Gerard wns crouching with her face turned westward; west-ward; Sho had nbandoned all effort to sleep. The one thought that was beating In hor brain was too insistent, too clamorous. Somewhere beyond that tangled mass of chimneys and telegraph poles, oomcwhero on the other oth-er sldo of tho gray hnzo which hung about tho myriad roofs, John and Loulso wero working, out their destiny, speaking nt last the naked truth to each other. Sho Btarted suddenly back Into the room. Tlicro was n knocking nt the door, something qulto different from her landlady's summons. Sho wrapped her dressing-gown nround her, pulled tho curtains nround tho little bed on which sho had striven to rest, and moved toward tho door. 8ho turned tho handlo softly. "Who Is that!" she asked. John almost pushed his way past her. Sho closed tho door with nerveless nerve-less fingers. Her eyes sought his 'face, her lips wero parted. Bho clung to tho back of tho chair. "You havo seen Loulso!" sho exclaimed ex-claimed breathlessly. "I havo seen Louise," ho answered. "It Is nil ovcrl" Sho looked a llttlo helplessly around her. Then she selected tho ono chair In tho tiny apartment that was likely to hold him, and led him to it. "Please sit down," sho begged, "and tell mo nbout It You musn't despair llko tills nil at onco. I wonder If I could help I" "No ono can help," ho told her grimly. grim-ly. "It la nil finished and dono with. I would rnthcr not talk any moro about it I didn't come hero to talk about it I camo to see you. So this Is where you 11 vol" ne looked around him, and fojr a moment mo-ment bo nlmost forgot tho pain which was gnawing nt his heart It was such n simple, plainly furnished little room, so clean, so neat, bo pathetically eloquent elo-quent of poverty. She drew closer together to-gether the curtains which concealed the llttlo chlnts.-covcrcd bed, and camo and sat down by his side. She clasped her hands tighter nround his nrm. ner eyes sought his anxiously. "But you mustn't climb down, John," sho Insisted. "You ore so much nicer whero you are, so much too good foitfhd silly, ugly things. You must fight this In your own way, fight It according to your own standards. You aro too good to como down" "Am I too good for you, Sophy!" Sho looked at him, and her whplo faco seemed to soften. Tho light in her bluo eyes was sweet and wistful. A bewildering llttlo smllo curled her Hps. "Don't be stupid!" sho begged. "A few minutes ago I wns looking out of my window and thinking what a poor llttlo morsel of humanity I am, and what a useless, drifting llfo I havo led. But that'll foolish. Como nowl What I want to persuade you to do Is to go back to Cumberland for n time, nnd try hard very hard indeed to .renllzo what it means to bo a woman llko Loulso, with her temperament her tntenso Intellectual curiosity, her charm. Nothing could make Loulso different from what she Is n dear, sweet woman and a great artist. And, John, I bcllevo she loves you I" nis face remained undisturbed even by the flicker of an eyelid. "Sophy," ho said, "I havo decided to go abroad. Will you come with mo!" Sho sat quite still. Again her faco wns momentarily transformed. All its pallor and fatlguo seemed to hnvo vanished, van-ished, ner head had fallen a llttlo back. Sho was looking through tho ceiling Into heaven. Then tho light died away almost as quickly as It had come, ner lips shook tremulously. "You know you don't mean It, John I You wouldn't take me. And If you did, you'd hate mo afterward you'd want to send mo back!" lie suddenly drew her to him, his arm went around her waist. She had lost all power of resistance. For tho first time In his life of his own deliberate delib-erate accord, ho kissed her feverishly, feverish-ly, almost roughly. "Sophy," he declared, "I have been n fool I I have, como an awful cropper, but you might help me with what's left. I am going to start afresh. I am going to get rid of Borne of these Ideas of mine which have brought mo nothing but misery and disappointment. disappoint-ment. I don't want to live op to them any longer. I want to Just forget them. I want to live as other men live Just the simple, ordinary life. Come with tne I I'll take you to the places wo've talked about together. I am always happy nnd contented with yon. Let's try it I" Her arms stole around his neck, "John," she whispered, hiding her face for a moment. "What can I say! What could any poor, weak little crea-turo crea-turo llko me say! You know I am fond of you I haven't had the pride, even, to conceal It I" He stood up, held her faco for a moment between his hnnds, and' kissed her forehead. "Then that's all settled," he declared., de-clared., "t nro, golcg-back-to-niy-roowo-now. I want you to come and dine with me there tonight, at eight o'clock." ner eye sought his, pleaded with them, searched them. "You are sure, John!" she asked, her voice a little broken. "You want mo really! I am to como!" "I am sure," he answered steadfastly. steadfast-ly. "I shall expect you at eight o'clock I " John went back to his rooms lighting all tho time against a sense of unreality, unreal-ity, a senso almost of lost Identity. IIo bought an evening newspaper and read It on tho way. no talked to tho hall porter, ho talked to a neighbor neigh-bor with whom ho ascended In tho lift ho did everything except think. In his rooms ho telephoned to tho restaurant for a waiter, and with tho menu In his hand, a few minutes later, ho ordered dinner. Then he glanced at his watch It was barely seven o'clock. D went down to the barber shop, wns shavcp and had his hair cut, encouraging the barber alt the whllo to talk to htm. IIo gavo his hands over to a manicure, and did his best to talk nonsenso to her. Then ho camo upstairs again, changed his clothes with great care, and went into his llttlo sitting room. It was flvo minutes to eight, and dinner had been laid at a llttlo round tablo In tho center of tho room. Thcro wns n bowl of pink roses Sophy's fa-vorlto fa-vorlto flower sent In from tho florist's; flor-ist's; tho table was lighted by a pink-shaded pink-shaded Inmp. John went nround tho room, turning out tho other lights, until un-til tho apartment wns hung with shadows shad-ows savo for tho llttlo spot of color In tho middle. An unopened bottle of champagno stood In an Ice-pall, and two specially prepared cocktails had been placed upon the llttlo sldo table. Thero wero no more preparations to bo made. IIo turned Impatiently away from tho window and glanced at the clock. It was almost eight. IIo tried to Imagine Imag-ine that tho bell was ringing, that Sophy So-phy was standing there on the threshold thresh-old In her simple but dainty evening dress, with a llttlo smllo parting her Hps. Tho end of It all! IIo pulled down the blind. No more of tho window, win-dow, no moro looking out at the lights, no more living in tho clouds I It wns time, Indeed, that ho lived as other men. no lifted one of the glasses to his Hps and drained Its contents. Then tho bell rang, ne moved forward for-ward to answer Its summons with beating heart As h'o opened It, ho received re-ceived a shock. A messenger boy stood outside. Ho took tho noto which tho boy banded him and tore It open under n lnmp. There were only a few lines : John, my heart Is breaking, but 1 know you do not mean what you aald. I know it was only a moment of madntsi with you. Z know you wilt lova Loulae all your life, and will blee tna all your life be-cauio be-cauio I am giving; up the one thins which could make my life a paradlie. I ahall be In the train when you read ttili, on my way to Hath. X have wired my young man, aa you call him, to meet me. I am going to aak htm to marry me, If he will, next week. ' Oood-byl I give you no advice. 8ome day I think that life will right Itself with you. SOPHY. The letter dropped upon the table. John stood for a moment dazed. Suddenly Sud-denly ho began to laugh. Then ho remembered re-membered tho messenger boy, gavo him half a crown, and closed tho door. IIo camo back Into tho room nnd took his placo at tho tabic. IIo looked at the empty chair by his side, looked nt tho full glass on tho sideboard. It seemed to him that ho was past all sensations. Tho waiter came In silently. si-lently. "You can servo tho dinner," John ordered, or-dered, shaking out his napkin. "Open the champagne beforo you go." "You will bo alone, sir!" the man inquired. "I shall bo alone," John answered. CHAPTER XXIII. It was a room of silence, save for the hissing of the green logs that burned on tho open hearth, and for the slow movements of Jennings as bo cleared the table. Straight and grim in his choir, with the newspaper by his side, Stephen Strongcwey sat smoking stolidly. Opposite to htm, almost al-most as grim, equally silent, sat John. "Things were quiet nt Market Kct-ton Kct-ton today, then, John!" Stephen asked at last "Thero was nothing doing," wns the brief reply. That, for the space of a quarter of an hour or so, was the sole attempt at conversation between the two brothers'. broth-ers'. Then Jennings appeared with a decanter of wine and two glasses, which he reverently filled. Stenhcn held his up to the light and looked at It critically. John's remained by his side, unnoticed. "A glass for yourself, Jennings," Stephen ordered. "I thank yo kindly, sir," the old man replied. He fetched a glass from the sideboard, side-board, filled It, and held It respectfully before him. "It's the old toast." Stephen said xlnmly 'iXou-litww-W-P "Aye, Master Stephen I" the servant assented. "We've drunk it together fcr many a Itmg year. I give It ye now with all my heart confusion to all women I" Tiejf both glanced nt John, who showed no signs of movement Then they drank together, tho older man nnd his servant Still John never moved. Jennings drained his glass, placed tho decanter by his master's side, and withdrew. "So tho poison's still there, brother!" broth-er!" Stephen asked. "And will be so long no I live," John confessed gloomily. "For all that, I'll not drink your toast" "Why not!" "Thero was a llttlo girl you saw her when you were In London. Sho is married now, but I think of her sometimes; some-times; and when I do, you and old Jennings seem to mo like a couplo of blithering idiots cursing things too wonderful for you to understand 1" Stephen made no protest For n time ho smoked in silence. Curiously enough, as they sat together, somo of tho grim fierceness seemed to hnvo passed vm his expression and settled upon John. Moro than once, as ha looked across at his younger brother, it nlmost Bccmcd as If thcro was something some-thing of self-reproach In his questioning question-ing look. "You dined nt tho ordinary in Market Mar-ket Kctton!" Stephen asked at last "I did." "Then you heard tho news?" "Who could help it!" John muttered. "Thero wasn't much clso talked about." "Bailiff Henderson has been over here," Stephen went on. "Thcro's a small army of painters nnd decorators coming down to tho cnstlo next week. You saw tho announcement of tho wedding In tho morning Post, maybe!" John assented without words. Stephen Ste-phen smoked vigorously for n few moments. mo-ments. Every now nnd then he glanced across to whero John was sitting. sit-ting. Onco ngaln the uneasiness was In his eyes, an uneasiness which was nlmost self-reproach. John moved a little restlessly In his chair. "Lot's drop It, Stephen," ho begged. "Wo both know tho facts. She Is going go-ing to marry him, and that's the end of It. Fill your glass up ngaln. Hero's mine untouched. I'll drink your toast with you, It you'll lcavo out tho llttlo girl who was kind to me. I'll glvo It to you myself confusion to all women wom-en 1" "Confusion to" Stephen began. "What on earth is that!" They both heard It at tho same tlmo the faint beating of n motor cnglno In tho distance. John set down his glass. Thcro was a strange look in his eyes. "Thcro nro moro care passing along tho road now than In tho old days," ho muttered; "but that's a queer sound. It reminds ono good heavens, how It reminds one I" Thcro was a look of agony in his faco for a moment Then once moro he raised his glass to his Hps. "It's passed out of hearing," Stephen said. "It's someone on tho way to the castle, maybe." Still their glasses remained suspended suspend-ed In midair. Tho llttlo garden goto had opened nnd closed with a click; thero wero footsteps upon tho flinty walk. "It's someono coming hcrol" JohS cried hoarsely. "Why can't they keep away! It's two years ago this week since I brought her up tho drive and you met us nt tho front door. Two years ago, Stephen! Who can It be!" They heard tho front door open, they heard Jennings' volco raised In unusual and Indignant protest Then their own door wns suddenly flung wide, and a mlraclo happened. John's glass slipped from his fingers, and the wlno streamed out across tho carpet lie shrank back, gripping at the tuble-cloth. tuble-cloth. Stephen turned his head, and sat as If turned to stone. "John," she faltered, "It Isn't the car this time It Is I who havo broken down I I cannot go on. I havo no pride left I have como to you. Will you help me!" ne found himself upon his feet. Stephen, Ste-phen, too, had arisen. Sho stood between be-tween tho two men, and glanced from ono to the other. Then sho lookod moro closely into John's face, peering forward with a little start of pain, and her eyes wero filled with tears. "John," sho cried, "forglvo mo 1 You were so cruel that morning, and you seemed to understand so, little. Don't you really understand, even now! Havo you ever known tho truth, I wonder?" won-der?" tt "The truth I" ho echoed hoarsely. "Don't we ell know that? Don't wo all know that ho Is to glvo you your rights, that you aro coming " "Stopl" sho ordered him. no obeyed, nnd for a oment therp was silence a tense, attained silence. "John," sho continued nt last, "I have no rights to receive from the prlnco of Seyre, lie owes me nothing. Listen I Always we havo seen life dlf-- dlf-- neren44yr-yeu-nd-I; To-mo-thetuis only one great thing, and that Is love; and beyond that nothing counts. I tried to love the prince before yon came, and I thought I did, and I promised prom-ised him at last, because I believed that be loved mo and Uat I loved him, and that f so it was his right Look down the road, John! On that night I was on my way to tho castle; but, I broko down, nnd In tho morning the world wob alt different nnd I went back to London. It has been different over since, nnd thcro has never been any question of anything between tho prince and me, because I knew that It was not lovo." John was shaking: In every limb. Ills eyes wero filled with fierce question-Ing. question-Ing. Stephen sat thcro, and thcro was wonder In his face, too. "When you camo to mo that morn-Ing," morn-Ing," sho went on, "you spoke to me In n strange tonguo. I couldn't under-stand under-stand you, you seemed so far nway. I wanted to tell you tho wholo truth, but I didn't. Perhaps I wasn't sure perhaps It seemed to mo that it was best for mo to forget, if ever I had cared, for tho ways ot our lives seemed so far apart You went away, and I drifted, on; but It wasn't true that I over promised to marry tho prlnco. No flj one bad any tight to put tbut para graph in tho newspaper I" "But what are you doing here, then!" John asked hoarsely. "Aren't you on your-way to tho castlo?" She camo a little nearer; her arms went nround his neck. BJ "You dear stupid I" she cried. "Haven't I told you? I've tried to do without you, and I can't. I'vo como for '.'H you. Como outside, plcnsol It's quite -JJ light The moon's coming over the hills. I want to walk up tho orchard. I want to hear Just what I'vo come to heart" lie passed out ot the room in n dream, under tho blossom-laden boughs of the orchard, nnd up tho hlllsldo HJ toward the church. The dream passed, but Louise remained, flesh and blood. HJ Ucr Hps were warm and her arms bold him almost feverishly. Bfl "In that llttlo church, John, and IJ quickly so quickly, pleaso I" sho whls-pcrcd. J Jcnnlnr hn;tenj IUT2 sH phoii V,'" Sitting slone. "Mr. Stephen," ho cried, "what's coming to us? There's that French hussy outside, and n motorcar In tho drlvo, and tho chauffeur's asking whero he's to sleep. The woman wants to know whether sho can have the samo bedroom for her mistress as last sVJ tlmo I" "Then why don't you go and boo about It, you old fool?" Stephen ro- piled. "Pick up those pieces of glass there, lay tho cloth, and get somo sup-per sup-per ready," Through the open doorway they heard Allne's voice In the hall, "Mcester Jennings, will you please como and help me with the luggage!" "Get along with you I" Stephen or-dercd. or-dercd. "You'd better hurry up with tho supper, too. The boy Tom can see to the luggage." Tho old man recovered himself slowly. "You're taking 'em In, sir taking 'em Into the house!" bo gasped. "What about that toast!" Stephen refilled two glasses. "We'd better niter It & little," Iw declared. "Here's confusion to most women, but luck to John and his LH wife I" H "Mr. John and his wife!" Jennings repeated, as he set his glass down empty. "I'll Just see that them sheets 1 is aired upstairs, sir, or that hussy will be making eyes at Tom I" Ho departed, and Stephen was left alone. He sat and listened to tho sound of luggage being taken upstairs, to Allne's llttlo torrent of directions, good-humored but profuse, to the sound of preparations In the kitchen. In the room the tall clock ticked sol-eranly sol-eranly ; n fragment of the lor evory H -flovrrmrnrerfw Toii'lliriiSaFtE: ' Presently In rose to his feet. Ho heard the click ot the garden gate, the eound of John nnd Louise return lug. He rose and stood ready to wel-come wel-come thea.' THIS END, 1 |