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Show Sinners in Heaven jj Bu, CLIUE ARDEN jj p5 I Copyright by The Bobbs-Merr!!l Co. ' jEj aiiiiimumim BE MERCIFUL1 I SYNOPSIS. Living in the small English village of Darbury, old-fashioned old-fashioned and sedate place, Barbara Bar-bara Stockley, daughter of a widowed mother, is. been to celebrate cele-brate her marriage to Hugh Rochdale, rich and well connected. con-nected. Barbara is adventurous, and has planned, with an aunt, ! an airplane trip to Australia. Major Alan Croft, famous as an I aviator, is to be the pilot. At j her first meeting with Croft Bar-t Bar-t bara is attracted by his manner j and conversation, different fron the cut-and-dried conventions of hr small town. They set out, Barbara, her aunt, Croft, and a mechanician. Word in a few days comes to Darbury that the plane is missing and its occupants occu-pants believed lost. Croft and j Barbara, after the wreck of the airplane in a furious storm, reach an apparently uninhabited island in the Pacific ocean. The other two members of the party had perished. The two castaways cast-aways build a shelter. In Croft's absence Barbara is attacked by a cannibal. Croft rescues her. Croft discovers a party of blacks, apparently reconnoitering. Croft fixes up an electrical guard which scares off an attacking party. Secure from Immediate danger, Croft and Barbara settle down to make the best of things. Croft, who has traveled much among savages, makes friends with the blacks. Croft and Barbara Bar-bara fall in love. The man betrays be-trays his passion but restrains it. The girl desperately tries to remain loyal to Hugh. PART TWO Continued, 9 IX Near the blazing fire stood Croft. His hands hung loosely at his sides; his gaze was fixed upon the distant, heaving water. At the sound of the girl's hurrying steps, he turned quickly. "A ship !" he announced briefly. "Is it coming?" "No." Silently they looked at each other: the man inscrutable as ever, the girl clasping and unclnsping her hands, her Hps a little tremulous. In the turmoil of her emotions, she sank upon the ground at last, und buried her head in her hands. Croft looked at her, his own feelings In much the same chaotic state. The hope of once again playing the part among his fellowmen dear to a man of action of achieving the ambitions ruthlessly destroyed at the very moment mo-ment of attainment, had been raised and dashed almost simultaneously. But in that same moment he faced the full knowledge of what all this Eden-like Eden-like existence meant to him the immensity im-mensity of his increasing hopes, bittersweet bitter-sweet in their uncertainty. And, as the flames ascended, he faced abruptly the probable termination of It all ! He controlled, but not without difficulty, diffi-culty, the emotions rioting within his heart, when those tense few minutes, fraught with so much meaning such crucial pages in the Hook of Fate relaxed. re-laxed. When the far-off spiral of smoke faded Into the clouds, ns the dis tant vessel vanished, he leaped upon a bowlder and threw his arms wide. The gesture might have been a welcome to freedom, or an acquiescence in the Inevitable; In-evitable; in either case it savored of "kismet." lie turned suddenly toward her. "I am sorry," he said. "I feared It would upset yon today." "Why today?" she asked curiously. A look of Incredulity crept into his face. "It Is December twentieth. Wasn't that to be your wedding day?" She sank hack, staring at him blankly. blank-ly. Twice she opened her lips to speak, hut no words came. At last, slowly, she turned her gaze seaward. "It was!" she murmured. "I had forgotten." Again her head dropped Into her hands. Low as the words were, he hoard them. A wild joy flashed through him. Because he dared not trust himself or his voice, lie left her dashing, with throbbing pulse, toward the palm grove. Was there a singing In the air around, as if every bird upon the Island bad mistaken coming night for the dawn, or was It the Inward song of his heart? For long Barbara sat where he bad left her, without livoking up, though knowing that she was alone. She faced her shrinking soul for the first time; the beacon burned Itself out beside hf-r; the sun sank lazily In a sky ii 'Initio. I'm 11 today she had taken for grant-mi grant-mi the supposition that, underneath the growing enchantment of this land, the craving for Hugh and rescue still predominated. pre-dominated. . . . Full of shame, she realized this supposition to have been hut n bubble hurst at tills first test. She understood, with a sense of shock, the small space now occupied by Hugh In her thoughts. Yet he seemed. In memory, ns dear as ever. Tears brimmed In her eyes; she realized, nt last, how this very dearness proved Its vast separation from love. . . I.Ike n bird newly aware of freedom after narrowly escaping capture, she stood up and looked around with lingering lin-gering eyes, which now knew how close hold ttie brilliant scene had upon her heart. If ever rescue came. It would bring pangs of yrlef Instead of the un- MB alloyed joy she had supposed. . . . Again her thoughts turned to Hugh, wondering what were his feelings today. to-day. . . . And her sensitive heart smote her, overwhelming her with renewed re-newed shame. . . . Hurriedly she set about laying supper, sup-per, hoping vainly to still the awakened depths ; then sought further occupation. occupa-tion. Her glance fell upon her luggage. lug-gage. With sudden decision, probably induced by a hazy idea of recapturing the instincts of civilization to combat unruly emotions, she seized a box and opened it. . . . When presently Croft returned, he was met on the threshold by a wistful-eyed wistful-eyed figure clothed in something soft and white and altogether womanly, instead in-stead of the blouse and old skirt. He stopped abruptly ; then with rather grim lips, smiled. "So we returned to civilization in spirit, if not in fact?" His uncanny knack of reading her motives caused her to give hira, as usual, the swift deep-sea glimpse which he sought. "Alan. I want to tell you something." "What is it?" he asked, breathing quickly at what he saw in her eyes. "I saw a shark today. And," hurriedly, hur-riedly, "I oh, Alan i I realized all you have done for me, all you have risked and spared me " "All my invisible halo, in fact?" She ignored the flippancy. "And I feel simply full of of " "Of what, Barbara? What?" "Gratitude " "Gratitude!" He turned away, with a short laugh. "I can do so little in turn to make things tolerable for you here," she went on. in the warmth of her heart. "Tour life was so full " He loked round again quickly. "No fuller than yours with the man you " "Ah" she interrupted passionately. "Don't ! I know." Her voice went into silence. For a long time he sat watching the darkness dark-ness creep swiftly over the water. A fierce craving for advice, sympathy sym-pathy even disapproval, so long as sbe could unburden her agitated mind, mastered mas-tered the girl. She took one of her old Impulsive plunges. "I am so troubled!" she exclaimed suddenly. "Tell me just what Is troubling you," he answered, his voice softening. "Loneliness?" The clasp of his fingers encouraged confidence. "No, no ! This wild life, this lovely island, seem to creep up and up, engulfing en-gulfing me, so that I dread the thought of the old restricted existence. Alan, it's terrible. It it's intoxicating it frightens me ! I never crave for the world and a wider sphere, as I did in Darbury. I know I ought to be pining for rescue ; to long for for those at home; to be unhappy. I've tried, honestly! But " Laughter interrupted her. "Tried! Have you really? Then you are happy here?" "That's the trouble; don't you see? I don't know why, but I am. I was even elad when the ship didn't come tonight! It's just as If there's some spirit in this island which draws one up and up Do you think me utterly heartless?" He laughed again; and she wondered won-dered at the exultant ring of It. "I think you're a goose waking up! Have you only just realized the 'spirit' on the island?" Then he became be-came serious. "How could your un-happiness un-happiness help those in England? They have long ago given us up for dead. Besides, no forced emotions are worth anything." "No. That's the chief point: they shouldn't need to be forced. Hugh once called me heartless" lie drew her hands downward, pulling pull-ing her up close behind him. "I'm going to talk quite straight, Barbara. I gather the real fact is you are not fretting for Hugh?" She made no reply ; but the fingers in his closed spasmodically. He went on. bis voice low, and deeply earnest. "Love can be forced least of all. If circumstances combine to prove that mistakes have been made. It Is no good struggling against the knowledge! However painful, it is better than a lifetime of vain regret. One of the crudest tragedies in this funny old world Is the ease with which such mis-lakes mis-lakes can be made unconsciously all in good faith." He turned his face upward and caught the glint of tears in her eyes. "Ah my dear! Don't take it so much to heart." She gave a strangled little sob. "He cared. Hugh will ever be faithful. faith-ful. He is the truest " "Yes I know : one of the very best. But marriage with him wouldn't have satisfied your nature. You know that." "Oh !" she cried startled. "Bit I shall still marry him If we jet rescued, res-cued, riease don't think me so disloyal dis-loyal ns all that !" He smiled over this third unconscious uncon-scious appeal for his good opinion. "D'you call it loyal, then, to carry out a compact when the very motive upon which It was founded has proved an Illusion? You would be living a lie all your life unfair to you both. Surely he wouldn't wish It?" "You don't quite understand." the protested. "I am just as fond of him. It would still be the same." "Barbara," he said softly, "the love of man and woman is not fondness." She could not speak. Her heart seemed to rise in her throat and throb there; her limbs trembled. In sudden panic she tried to free her hands, her womanhood realizing bis manhood as it had never consciously done before. The instinct of the wild bird to flee and hide was hers. Her turmoil communicated com-municated itself to him, in that vibrant silence. He looked up into her face, seeing there what lie had but glimpsed on the night in the natives' hut. "Barbara!" he whispered shakily, "Barbara ! Be true to yourself " With a little cry, she wrenched her hands free. As he sprang to his feet she turned, and, without a word, fled into the hut. ... He stood still for a minute; then he drew a quick unsteady breath, and strode to the shore, to pace up and down up and down far into the night. . . . Barbara lay awake throughout long hours facing in terrible isolation the great question of sex. What she had dimly realized and vaguely feared, since that revealing moment during their visit to the natives, now loomed up in its naked reality to alter the whole aspect of their life here together. to-gether. She faced the true position: realized clearly that she and this man were cut adrift from all the safety of other human companionship, all the restraints of civilization, with this terrible, ter-rible, eternal attraction now menacing them. Escape from it was impossible. She understood now the nature' of the abyss yawning below the precipice which had threatened her of late. This new knowledge illumined the past, even to the strange magnetic attraction, Turned and Fled Into the Hut. half-fear, in the early days of their acquaintance. It terrified her, shaking her confidence. Her one shield and protector in all they had faced now appeared ap-peared in the light of the enemy against whom she had no ally ! When she remembered the close clasp of his bunds, the pressure of his head upon her breast, her pulse throbbed and her face burned. It must quit, she told herself repeatedly: this delightful, impossible tenderness between be-tween them must be stopped at once. She must resolutely hide her womanhood, woman-hood, showing nothing but the sexless comrade ! As soon as the soft light of dawn had entered the tiny room, she rose. Taking Tak-ing her scissors, she cut through handful hand-ful after handful of her long thick hair, wasting no regrets upon the luxuriant tresses piling round her bare feet. So far. so good ! But It happened that Barbara's heart remained unshorn of Its sex, with all its natural tendency to look well. When the hair was cut short to her neck, she , hesitated ; picked up the diminutive mirror; laid it down; picked up the scissors; hesitated hesi-tated again then laid them down, and gave her head a vehement shake. The short waves and curls, free from all restraint, followed their own sweet will, waving piquantly around her small head, clustering about her ears. . . . Alan stood In the outer doorway, watching a bird preening its bright plumage on a rock. He turned in surprise sur-prise at her early appearance; but the words of greeting died upon his lips. "What have you done?" he ejaculated. ejacu-lated. She laughed self-consciously, giving her "bobbed" head a shake, eluding his eyes. "Oh! 1 just thought I would cut my hair." sbe replied, with elaborate carelessness. "All your beautiful hair!" be murmured, mur-mured, his gaze never leaving her. "Girls are out of place, here!" she observed. A moment's reflection, and he had decided on his course. "I see. Henceforth, Hence-forth, then, we are two gay dogs together? to-gether? What a good Idea!" His tone was cool enough to reassure a dozen nervous women. She was conscious con-scious of a great relief a she joined him in the doorway. X The next few days were strangely happy. The faint chance of rescue caused their little hut to seem dearer, the wild free life more enchanting. The spirits of both had never been so high. Barbara, having conquered the sex problem with such sublime simplicity, sim-plicity, cast it from her mind, surrendering sur-rendering herself wholly to the engrossing en-grossing happiness of the moment. That her very subterfuge, proving all it did." had been the death-knell to her object, never entered her head. On Christmas eve they collected armfuls of greenery, the ,girl clinging with unconscious pathos to the old customs cus-toms in which she had been reared. "Ah !" she cried inconsequently. "Isn't it all beautiful?" "What?" he asked, yet knowing full well. "Oh everything ! Christmas here ! Freedom from Mr. Home !" She sprang upon a suitcase, trails of vine in her hands, anl laughed down !it him. He came close to her. the same ecstasy lurking in his own eyes. 'I wonder if you realize all you have implied ?" "What?" She looked startled. She turned away, and fastened a vine tendril to the bamboo. He watched her silently, noticing the change wrought in her by these past months. The wild-rose air had vanished: in its stead the warm blood flowed red beneath be-neath a sunburned skin: her feet were brown and hardened. Yet, where the depths were concerned, remained the old timidity which was, paradoxically, her greatest lure and protection. One false step and she would, he knew, be "off on the wing," scared as a young partridge. But Alan's small store of patience had been drained to the last dregs. Finishing the decoration, she paused beside him, considering the effect. Ferns and palm leaves swayed in the corners; trailing greenery decorated walls and root; nowers stood upon tne cabin table. "Cozy, isn't it?" she asked, looking up for his approval. "Very cozy !" he replied, looking only at her. "What a little home-maker you are." She flushed, and again turned hastily away. "We'll hang this remaining vine over the entrance, outside. Will you bring the suitcases?" He carried out the substitute for a ladder; and up she sprang. Deftly, with the art of experience, she caught the trailing foliage up here, letting It hang in clusters there. "And that middle cluster?" asked Alan, beside her. "Is that for mistletoe?" mistle-toe?" Her head rose quickly, as that of a young deer scenting danger. With a quick glance down at him, she stretched out her hand toward the bunch ; but he put up a long arm to prevent Its removal. re-moval. And, in a flash, all the security of the past days fell to ruins. For, while she strove again to seize the vine leaves, the suitcases overbalanced, and she toppled down upon him. He caught her and held her. He clasped her close to a thumping heart, and buried his face In her hair. . . . For a moment she lay inert; then she began to struggle, gasping, sobbing. sob-bing. But his self-control was going. His grip became fierce; she felt his hot breath upon her neck. . . . "Alan!" she cried wildly. "For God's sake " The fear, as of one drowning. In the cry, steadied his reeling senses. Still clasping her In his arms, he sank down upon the rock. His darkened eyes mesmerized her own ; the abyss yawned wide at her feet . . . she was conscious con-scious only of being swept along, caught in some remorseless torrent, toward the edge of the precipice . . . slipping, falling ... his Hps were close to her own. . . . "Alan!" with almost superhuman effort ef-fort she munaged to gasp his name again. "I can't bear It. No! No! Be merciful !" Faintly, with parched mouth, the desperate petition seemed wrung from her very soul. His arms relaxed ahruptly, a subtle change coming inio their grasp when he realized her trembling. "Why are you afraid?" he murmured unsteadily. She raised herself, her face very white under Its sunburn. "Don't you see? If you do this, how can I go on living with you here?" He smiled faintly, the mad tumult of his blood abating. "Where else would you live? Witli the natives for cliaperonage?" She drew a sobbing breath, looking around with a pathetic gfsture of helplessness help-lessness which touched his heart. The passion failed yet more from his face. He pressed her agulnst hlni again, this time protectively. "The way of a maid with a man" is one of the mysteries. What next? (TO BB CONTINUED.) |