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Show CD flABOLD JnACCMmf J Autlxovof TlicCaiGtli'omDaodadSlK The Place Honeymoons, etc. $A SYNOPSIS. 4 mT:V.r.V1Kt".n- A,1'orl-n adventurer. r' ,! Vs- 'Is serv'"t- with a cased par-r par-r w L ' uknmvn "P down the Ir- ? ?i, l'e lancl,,11?. hound for Rangoon ' ix.sh h cli-.ut for Soi.nao rupees Eka W ' H,?;'- ''0h Am,"n 8irl tourist, seel I .id , J 2',',me al'Qard ll,e hoilt ' "e , L ?' amazed at his likeness to rr ,' Arthur KHison. asks the purs-iVi purs-iVi rini',r 1 i,ce ller- He lel,a ber that old , ';af hoa,pn a svndleate and r rV V" KpV'lh' Parrot, throush his .Vmi f,"r ,Sa antl warns her against l J ,V"5B ,ivllh ""known adventurers Vv i ' 'n" fact' Tl,0- Pass two golden 'ys together on the river. CHAPTER IV Continued. Warrington rushed ashore to find 'be dry-goods shop. His social redemption redemp-tion was on the way. if vanity went or anything. It was stirring and nngling with life again. With the .mmey advanced hy the purser he nought shirts and collars and ties, and is he possessed no watch, returned barely in time to dress for dinner. He was not at all disturbed to learn that Hie inquisitive German, the colonel nd his fidgety charges, had decided to proceed to Rangoon by rail, ladled, there was a bit of exultation in his manner as he observed the vacant chairs. Paradise for two whole davs. And he proposed to make the most cf it. Now his mind was as clear of evil as a forest spring. He simply wanted to play; wanted to give rein (o the lighter emotions so long pent ui) in his lonely heart. The purser, used to these sudden changes and desertions in his passenger passen-ger lists, gave the situation no thought. But Elsa saw a mild danger, all the more alluring because it hung nemiiousiy. what harm could there be in having a little fling? He was so amazingly like outwardly, so astonishingly aston-ishingly unlike inwardly, that the situation situ-ation had for her a subtle fascination against which she was in nowise inclined in-clined to fight. She was not wholly Ignorant of her power. She could bend the man if she tried. Should she try? They were like two children, setting out to play a game with fire. She thought of Arthur. Had he gone the length of his thirty-five years without with-out his peccadillos? Scarcely. She understood the general run of men well enough to accept this fact. Whomever Whom-ever she married she was never going to worry him with questions regarding his bachelor life. Nor did she propose pro-pose to be questioned about her own p;.st. Besides, she hadn't married Arthur Ar-thur yet; she had only promised to And such promises were sometimes t.eusib'.y broken. These thbughts flashed through her mind, disconnectedly, disconnect-edly, while she talked and laughed. It never occurred to her to have Martha Mar-tha moved up from the foot of the table. Once or twice she stole a glance at the woman who had in the olden (lays dandled her on her knees. The glance was a mixture of guilt ant! mischief, like a child's. But the glance Mad not the power to attract Martha's eyes. Martha felt the glances as purely as if she had lifted her eyes to meet them. She held her peace. She had not been brought along as Elsa's guardian Elsa was not self-willed but litrong willed, and Martha realized that f.ny interference would result in estrangement. es-trangement. In fact, Martha beheld In Warrington a real menace. The extraordinary ex-traordinary resemblance would naturally natu-rally appeal to Elsa, with what results she coald only imagine. Later she Hsked Elsa if she had told Warrington of the remarkable resemblance. "Mercy no! And what is more, I do not want him to know. Men are vain as a rule; and I should not like to hurt his vanity by telling him that I sought his acquaintance simply because be-cause he might easily have been Arthur Ar-thur Ellison's twin brother." "The man you are engaged to marry." "Well, Martha?" "I beg your pardon, Elsa; but the stranger terrifies me. He Is some-Ihing some-Ihing uncanny." "Nonsense! Vou've been reading tales about yogi." "It is a terrible country." "It is the East, Martha, the East. Here a man may wear a dress suit ft ml a bowler without offending anyone." any-one." "And a woman may talk to anyone i. lie pleases." "You have been with me twenty yearn," began Elsa coldly. "And love you better than the whole world! And I wish I Could guard you Hlways from harm and evil. Those liorrid old Englishwomen . . ." (.' ; ') I'.'fr'-'.s been gosaip already? Yen I: .r v.- t:iy :-i"v.s regarding gossip. Ho lout, ! s I know that I am doing no wrong, ladles may gossip their heads off. I'm not a kitten." "You are twenty live, and yet you're only a child." "What does that (signify? That I am loo young to manage my own affairs? af-fairs? That I must M l my clock as i.'hers order? Good soul!" pulling her aims Mound the older woman. "Iion't v.oiry about Elsa C'hefwood. ller lile li her own, but she will never misuse II." "Oh, If you wen; only married and (tetlled down !" "Von mean if I were, happily married and settled down. There you have it. I'm in search of happiness. That's the Valley of Diamonds. When I find that. Martha, you may fold your hands in peace." "Grant it may be soon! I hate the East!" "And I have just begun to love it" CHAPTER V. Back to Life. The two days between Prome and Rangoon were distinctly memorable for the subtle changes wrought in the man and woman. Those graces of mind and manner which had once been the man's began to find expression. Physically, his voice became soft and mellow; his hands became full of emphasis; em-phasis; his body grew less and less clumsy, more and more leonine. The blunt speech, the irritability in argument, argu-ment, the stupid pauses, the painful study of cunning phrases, the suspicion suspi-cion and reticence that figuratively encrust en-crust the hearts of shy and lonely men, these vanished under her warm if careless care-less glances. If the crust of barbarism is thick that of civilization is thin enough. As Warrington went forward Elsa stopped and gradually went back, not far, but far enough to cause her to throw down the bars of reserve, to cease to guard her impulses against the invasion of interest and fascination. She faced the truth squarely. The man fascinated her. He was like a portrait with following fol-lowing eyes. She spoke familiarly of her affairs (always omitting Arthur); she talked of her travels, of the famous fa-mous people she had met. of the wonderful won-derful pageants she had witnessed. It was not her fault that, with the exception ex-ception of Martha, who didn't count, they two were the only passengers. This condition of affairs was directly chargeable to fate; and before the boat reached Rangoon, Elsa was quite willing to let fate shift and set the scenes how it would. The phase that escaped her entirely was this, that had he not progressed she w-ould have retained her old poise, the old poise of which she was never again to be mistress. It is the old tale sympathy to lift up another first steps down. And never had her sympathy sym-pathy gone out so quickly to any mortal. mor-tal. Elsa had a horror of loneliness, and this man seemed to be the living presentment of the word. What struggles, strug-gles, and how simply he recounted them! What things he had seen, what adventures had befallen him, what romance ro-mance and mystery! She wondered if there had been a woman in his life and if she had been the cause of his downfall. Every day of the past ten years lay open for her to admire or condemn, but beyond these ten years there was a Chinese wall, over which she might not look. Only once had she provoked the silent negative nod of his head. He was strong. Not the smallest corner of the veil was she permitted to turn aside. She walked hither and thither along the scarps and bastions of the barrier, but never found the breach. "Will you come and dine with me tonight?" to-night?" she asked, as they left the boat. "No, Miss Innocence." "That's silly. There isn't a soul I know here." "But." gravely he replied, "there are many here who know me." "Which infers that my invitation is unwise?" "Absolutely unwise. Frankly, I ought not to be seen with you." "Why? Unless, indeed, you have not told me the truth. Where's the harm ?" "For myself, none. On the boat it did not matter so much. It was a situation situ-ation which neither of us could foresee nor prevent. I have told you that people here look askance at me because be-cause they know nothing about me, I save that I came from the States. And j they are wise. I should be a cad if I accepted ycur invitation to dinner." i lien i am not to see you again?" The smile would have lured him across three continents. "Tomorrow I promise to call and have tea with you, much against my better judgment." "Oh, If you don't want to come . . ." "Don't want to come!" Something in his eyes caused Elsa to speak hurriedly. "Good-by until tomorrow." She gave him her hand for a moment, mo-ment, stepped Into the carriage, which already held .Martha and the luggage, and then drove off to the Strand hotel. I.'e stood with his helmet In his hand. A fine, warm rain was falling, but he was not conscious of it. It seemed Incredible that time should produce such a change within Ihn space of seventy hours, a Utile more, a little less. As she turned and waved a friendly hand he knew that Ihe ,,.Hr. h'tion which had been his for ten years was nothing as compared to that which now fell upon his heart. She was as unattainable as the north slar; anil nnihing, 1 1 in r; nor ''ircumslance, could bridge that Incalculable distance. His heart hurl him. He must see her no more after Ihe morrow. Enchantment and liupplncsH were two words whlcb fate had ruthlessly scratched from his book of days. Mr. Hooghly had already started off toward the town, the kit bag and the valise slung across his shoulders, the parrot cage bobbing at his side. He knew where to go; an obscure lodging for men in the heart of the business section, known in jest by the derelicts dere-licts as the Stranded. Warrington. becoming suddenly aware that his pose, if prolonged, would become ridiculous, put on his helmet and proceeded to the Bank of Burma. Today was Wednesday; Thursday week he would sail for Singapore Sin-gapore and close the chanter. Before banking hours were over his financial affairs were put in order, and he walked forth with two letters of credit and enough banknotes and gold to carry him around the world if he so planned. Next he visited a pawnshop and laid down a dozen mutilated tickets, receiving in return a handsome hand-some watch, emerald cuff buttons, some stickpins, some pearls and a beautiful old ruby ring, a gift of the young maharajah of Udaipur. The ancient an-cient Chinaman smiled. This was a rare occasion. Men generally went out of his dark and dingy shop and nevermore returned. "Much money. Can do now?" affably. "Can do." replied Warrington, slipping slip-ping the treasures intn a r.L-, v'k a struggle it had been to hold them! Somehow or other he had always been able to meet the interest, though, often to accomplish this feat he had been forced to go without tobacco for weeks. There is a vein of superstition ba all of us, deny it how we will. Warrington Warring-ton was as certain of the fact as he was of the rising and the setting of the sun, that if he lost these heirlooms heir-looms he never could go back to the old, familiar world, the world in which he had moved and lived and known happiness. Never again would he part with them. A hundred thousand dollars, dol-lars, almost; with his simple wants, he was now a rich man. "Buy ling?" asked the Ctiinaman. He rolled a mandarin's ring carelessly across the showcase. "Gold; all heavy; velly old, veily good ling." "What does it say?" asked Warrington, Warring-ton, pointing to the characters. 'Good luck and plospelity; velly good signs." It was an unusually beautiful ring, unusual in that it had no setting of jade. Warrington offered thr, e sovereigns sov-ereigns for it. The Chinaman smiled and put the ring away. Warrington laughed and laid down five pieces of gold. The Chinaman swept them up in his lean, dry hands. And Warrington Warring-ton departed, wondering if she would accept such a token. By four o'clock he arrived at the Chinese tailors in the Su'.ey Pagoda road. He ordered a suit of pongee, to be done at noon the following dav. He added to this orders 'or four other suits, to be finished wvhin a week. Thrti he went to the shoemaker, to the hatter, to the haberdasher. All this business because he wanted her to realize what he had been and yet could he. Thus vanity sometimes works out a man's salvation. And it marked the end of 'Warrington's recidivation. When he reached his lodging house he sought the Burmese landlady. She greeted him with a smile and a stiff little shake of the hand. He owed her money, but that was nothing. Had he not sent her drunken European sailorman husband about his business? busi-ness? Had he not freed her from a tyranny of fists and curses? It had not affected her in the least to learn 'V ri 1 She Spoke Familiarly of Her Affairs (Always Omitting Arthur). that her sailorman had been negligently negli-gently married all the way from Yokohama Yoko-hama to Colombo. She was free of him. Warrington spread out a five-pound note and laid ten sovereigns upon It. "There we are," he said genially; "all paid up to date." "You go 'way?" the smile leaving her pretty moon-face. "You like?" with a gesture- which indicated the parlor and its contents. "He boss? ! ialf an' hair?" lie shook bis head soberly. She picked tip the money and jingled It in her hand. "(Ion'-by!" softly. "Oh, I'm not going until next Thursday." Thurs-day." The smile relurned to her face, and her body bent In a kind of kotow, lie was so big, and his heard glistened like Ihe gold lear on the Sliwe Iiagrn piignda. She underslood. The while, to the while and the brown to tho brown ; It w as I he law. Warrington went up to his room. Ho was welcomed by n screech from tho parrot and u dlgnillcd salaam from James, who was trimming the wick of the oil lamp. For the last year and a half this room had served as headquarters. head-quarters. Many a financial puzzle had been pieced together within these dull, drab walls; many a dream had gone up to the ceiling, only to sink and dissipate dis-sipate like smoke. There were no pictures pic-tures on the walls, no photographs. In one cornar, on the floor, was a stack of dilapidated books. These were mostly old novels and tomes dealing with geological and mathematical matters; mat-ters; laughter and tears and adventure, adven-ture, sandwiched in between the dry positiveness of straight lines and squares and circles and numerals without with-out end; D'Artagnan hobnobbing with Euclid! Warrington was an educated man, but he was in no sense a scholar. James applied a match to the wick, and the general poverty of the room was instantly made manifest. "Well, old sober-top, suppose we square up and part like good friends?" "I am always the sahib's good friend." "Right as rain!" Warrington emptied emp-tied his pockets upon the table; silver and gold and paper. "Eh? That's the stuff. Without it the world's not worth a tinker's dam. Count out seventy pounds, James." Calmly James took sovereign after sovereign until he had withdrawn the J lit III ! mm "Good God!" He Murmured. required sum. "Gold is heavy, sahib." he commented. "You go back home?" "Yes. Something like home. I am going to Paris, where good people go when they die. I am going to drink vintage wines, eat truffles and mushrooms mush-rooms and caviar and kiss the pretty girls in Mavitn'c I'vo hour, i,i r,-;.- for ten years. I am free, free! " Warrington War-rington flung out his arms. "Good-by, jungles, deserts, hell heat and thirsty winds! Good-by. crusts and rags and hunger! I am going to live." "The sahib has fever," observed the unimaginative Eurasian. "Tha'v the word; fever. I am burning burn-ing up. Here; go to the Strand and get a bottle of champagne, and bring some ice. Buy a box of the best cigars, ci-gars, and hurry back. Then put this junk in the trunk. And d n the smell of kerosene!" James raised his hand warningly. From the adjoining room came the sound of a quarrel. "Rupees one hundred and forty, and I want it now. you sneak!" "But I told you I couldn't snuare nn until the first of the month." "You had no business to play poker, then, if you knew you couldn't settle." "Who asked me to play?" shrilled the other. "Yon did. Well, I haven't got the money." "You miserable little welrher! The ring is worth a hundred and forty." "You'll never get your dirty fingers inside of that." "Oh. I shan't, eh?" Warrington heard a scuffling, which was presently followed by a low. choking chok-ing sob. He rushed fearlessly into the other room. Pinned to the wall was a young man with a weak, pale face The other man presented, nothing more than the hack of his broad, muscular mus-cular shoulders. The disparity In weight and height was sufficient to rouse Warrington's sense of fair play. Besides, he was in a rough mood himself. him-self. "Here, that'll do." he cried, seizing Ihe heavier man by the collar. "It isn't worth while to kill a man for a handful of rupees. Let go. you fool!" He used his strength. The man and his victim swung In a half-circle and crashed to Ihe floor. With a snarl in-. en oath the gambler gam-bler sprang to his feet and started toward Warrington. Hi? stopped short. "Good God!" he murmured; and retreated re-treated until he touched the footboard or the bed. (TO UK COM'IM'un.l |