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Show 11 I Sinners in Heaven 1 I Bij CL1UE ARDEN I g ' Copyright by The Bobbs-Merrlll Co. j p3 mmrimimmumimm "It was h 1 !" she murmured briefly. brief-ly. "Have you heard ?" "Madge told me everything. She got the news of our rescue almost directly after you left London! I came home like the very devil by sea, air, and land to find you had disappeared gone to break your little heart alone, where I couldn't find yon " "I had to come away, Alan. I was In a turmoil " "My Barbara, don't I understand!" Suddenly bis eyes blazed In their old way ; and he dashed an arm upon the table, causing the flame of the lamp to jump. "Those blighted Pharisees! Those d d, gossiping " "Oh, my dear!" She laughed again at this familiar vehemence. "I went to Darbury," he explained briefly. Her laughter fled. "You went to Darbury, Alan?" She glanced apprehensively appre-hensively into his grim face. "What what happened?" He remained silent for a moment, then met her eyes with a smile. "Well . . . No deaths occurred." "Did did mother say ?" "There was a very free, candid Interchange In-terchange of opinion! I honestly tried to reconcile ,vour mother, but" he gave one of his old careless shrugs "she considers herself disgraced, and talks darkly of being obliged to leave Darbury. ... I saw Rochdale, too" Barbara raised her head again. "Ah ! Dear old Hugh ! He has been splendid, Alan. His friendship his struggle to to believe " Her vilce quavered. "I know. And he, of everybody concerned, con-cerned, might with justness have condemned con-demned " They fell silent awhile, each knowing, know-ing, Dy their own joy, what It all meant to the friend who bad lost. . . . A realization of what this return would mean to Mrs. Field combined with her own overwhelming Joy to draw from the very depths of her heart a voiceless prayer met thanksgiving. thanks-giving. In the luminous, darkened rather bitterly. "I couldn't feel more married," she added, with the quick shy look be loved. His gray eyes darkened; with a little catch of the breath his arms tightened. "There's one thing, therefore, which bold bad barons must have In their pockets when they chase their victims to Darbury, to prove their good Intent." In-tent." "What Is that?" "A special license. I know a parson near here. We haven't met for eight years; but I wired this morning to tell hi m we should arrive at his church to be married tomorrow " "My dear whirlwind !" she gasped. He bent, with his old violent suddenness, sudden-ness, and caught her up so close she could scarcely breathe. All the old passionate, dominating love, which had so often swept her away, poured forth and- surrounded her; so that, panting and glorying, her individuality, after all Its lonely travail, once more transfused, transformed Into his own. "So," he whispered, "we must have another wedding, my Beloved ! But It cannot be more beautiful more real than the other in the dawn " "With a little sobbing, tremulous sigh, she clung close. . . . "If we' bad one every year, In every land and every tongue," she murmured whimsically, whim-sically, "they would all seem beautiful beauti-ful to me." The landlady discreetly entered at last to lay the supper. She cast one comprehensive glance at the armchair, and her smiling face grew more radiant. radi-ant. "We are to be married In the morning." morn-ing." Alan remarked. Cornish people take life calmly. They do not lose their heads or forget their duties In any crisis. "Yes. sir!" Mrs. Tregutheran agreed brightly. "I'm sure I du hope you will bcith be happy. And will you have eggs tu breakfast, sir or bacon?" "Beth heaps!" They smiled at each other when the left the room. "Somebody must feed us," he observed, ob-served, passing his fingers through her curly hair. "Every little note has Its niche." Hugh sat long over a lonely breakfast, break-fast, a few days later. The "old people" peo-ple" were away. The London paper, with its list of marriages, lay upon the table before him; but he stared a.vay absently, through the window, without turning the page. . . . Presently, with gun and dogs, he stepped out Into the raw February air, turning aimlessly down a lane. . . . An hour later, followed closely by six puzzled brown eyes, he walked slowly up the pathway In the little wood where aeons ago he and Barbara had discussed their honeymoon. The gun still rested unused within his a-m, the cartridges untouched within their bag. ... Underfoot, the fir needles lay soft and damp with here and there fronds of sodden dead bracken drooping upon them. The tall pines swayed a little, whispering their everlasting, murmurous murmur-ous song; dropping, sometimes, splashes from their wet leaves, like tears, upon the dreariness below. All the world appeared gloomy, dead, sorrowful. sor-rowful. It seemed Impossible that, soon, the sap would run in the tall trees, the young green shoot forth upon the hedges, spring with Its fresh myriad life awake with the "singing J of birds." ... The unloaded gun dropped unheeded to the ground. . . . The six brown eyes questioned one another womier-ingly womier-ingly ; then looked back at the tweed-clad tweed-clad figure lying face downward, with head buried In bis arms. . . . At last Shag, Hugh's favorite terrier, ter-rier, ever the most tender-hearted of friends, approached cautiously; sniffed; then gently licked what was ; vlsilile of a much-loved cheek. I (Til K END.) . . . .. I PART FOUR Continued 20 "I killed him? I killed Babooma a man T" Swiftly he closed her lips with his own, with quick perception of the effects which renewed civilization might have had upon the primitive Instincts In-stincts aroused on the Island. "I owe my very life to you, wife of my heart," he whispered. But his reflections were misplaced. "Thank God !" she cried unexpectedly. unexpected-ly. "I would still kill anybody any " . day who attempted to hurt you." ." 'Nona de DIeu 1' " he echoed the Frenchmen. "Our life will be a checkered check-ered career." Then Barbara fully recognized once more the old Alan of flesh and blood, deep moods and light banter, poetic Idealism and prompt action deliclous-ly deliclous-ly human, warm with love and life. She suddenly laughed, the bewildered nen.se of shock falling from her the first real spontaneous laugh of many weeks. "Alan! Alan! Nothing matters hut the fact that you are here alive! But I can't understand It all. How was such a mistake made?" "Yery easily. Because De Borceau didn't, of course, know friend from foe! Things were going all rjght with us. But when one of the devils set fire to the hut and the friendly spear knocked me out, De Borceau naturally though all was up. Some of Baboo-nia's Baboo-nia's lot tried to reach you, but Roowa frustrated them. Then De Borceau was staunch to his oath. He fought anybody who came near you, like a medieval knight, and carried you off to safety. Poor Roowa thought he had stolen you from me, and nearly went mad!" He laughed remlniscently. "But you? What happened to you? The expedition searched the Island. And what became of the De Borceaus when they returned ?" He sank Into the big armchair, still clasping her in his arms. "It's quite a fairy story. You remember the wood In the east where, that first Christmas Christ-mas day ?" , "Every leaf!" she breathed. He smiled Into her eyes. . . . "But not every moss-covered rock. In that wood was a very cleverly concealed con-cealed entrance to a subterranean passage pas-sage leading to a kind of vault. This narrowed down into another outlet quite impassable on the shore, which allowed a little fresh air and glimmers of light. This cave was tabu. In happier days, when the tribe was sufficiently suffi-ciently self-supporting to provide Its own meat, the condemned dinner was well, we need not go Into details! But that cave was supposed to be haunted with the spirits of past feasts. Nobody liked to speak of It, or go near It. When I was considered dead, our friends, very naturally, carried off my bleeding corpse " "Oh. don't!" cried the girl who had Fi'ffered so much from this well-meaning well-meaning act. She buried her face on his shoulder. . . . ' After a lucid Interval he resumed his narrative. "When they realized you had been 'stolen' and I was still alive, the fear arose that the 'bird of 111 omen' would return and make off with me. tco ! So, to Insure my safety that was the Irony of It all they raised the tabu and hid me In the cave. Only Roowa was courageous enough to enter with food. I was knocked out for some time. When I recovered Barbara! Cnu you possibly Imagine my feelings upon discovering that the rescue party had come and gone? J was raving mad ! The poor beggars had done it for the best and were bewildered. Nothing would convince them that the white men were my friends. I spent what seemed years of agony, doubt fu! If any further help would come. My only hope lay In you." "In me?" "I thought you would persuade De Borceau or somebody to try again, not rc content " "I wanted to come myself." she cried. "I Implored and threatened threat-ened and (lh! everybody was so pig-beaded. But what happened to De Borceau?" "As soon as the plane's arrival was known the whole tribe raced pell-mell to the shore and burned It to cinders. I found the brothers biding for their life In the forest." lie gnve an Irrepressible Ir-repressible bubble of laughter. "They literally fell from the trees upon my neck ! We hnve been kissing each other's hands or faces ever since. So again, nothing reninlned hut to wnlt and hope, i thought at least a m's-nlonary m's-nlonary party would turn up. That second expedition whs Infernally slow !" He laid his check Impulsively down upon hers. "But De Bor-nm could jive me news of yon. fie told me everything about Singapore " Her lips turned trembling a little, to his. f "And." she whispered. " 'It' !" "And 'It.'" His arms tightened. "And other things. 1 Insisted. He acted- loynlly for us both, Barbara. But- by heaven !--lt made my gor ge rise to know what you were facing thp Inferences, the And there I whs. powerless as a stranded Infant to he! you " J "Oh, Don't!" Cried the Girl. eyes that met her own, she saw the same look of almost reverent awe. Never had be seemed so gloriously alive, so radiant in spirit. Again she raised her hands to feel the features she had never thought to see again; then drew the dear head, with passionate pas-sionate tenderness, down to her breast, and clasped It there. . . . To both of them, beneath the suner-flclal suner-flclal lightness of talk. . this hour equaled In sacredness that of their marriage morning In the dawn But this held in It. Hlso. the half-feartu! joy of a resurrection. The past darkness, dark-ness, with the struggle toward the light, had left Ineffaceable marks upon each soul. . . . "Can't we go back to the Island?" she whispered at hist. "Some day." He raised his head and smiled. "We'll retire there, now and then, and live It all again! iut our first Jaunt Is to Australia. I've been commissioned to rebuild the old bus. There's been an awful lot of Interviewing and publicity since I got hark ten nays ago " "Only ten days! And you've been to Darbury " "That's not all." He looked at her with eyes which held something of their old Inscrutability. Inscru-tability. "Your relations showed unflattering surpilse at what they termed my 'constancy' 'con-stancy' now we are rescued. Oh. lord !" "They would !" she cried, with Indignation. In-dignation. "The fear that we meant brar.enlv to defy the English law possessed them. They besought nie to marry you properly. prop-erly. In a church.' Your aunt particularly particu-larly Insisted upon a Protestant church not a registry oflice, or chapel." "Just like Aunt Mary!" She laughed |