HEART
W
of the
SUNSET
C^PEX BEACl\
Author of "The Spoilers, ” "The Iron Trail*
" The Silver Horde Etc.
1
SYNOPSIS.
R
CHAPTER I—Set afoot am! alone bv an
accident in the desert neat the Rio Grande
Mrs. Alaire Austin, mistress of Las J'ai
aias and La Feria ranches, meets l>ave
Law, Texas Ranger, at a water hole anti
is compelled to spend the night there with
film, as he is in ambush for a murdeter
and cannot leave his post.
CHAPTER II—Next day at evening the
murderer appears with a companion.
CHAPTER III—law captures the mur
derer but is compelled to kill his compan
ion, Panfllo Sanchez, who happens to be
a cousin of Mrs. Austin's horsebreaker,
Jose Sanchez.
CHAPTER IV—At Las Palmas Alaire
tells her husband, Ed, that his carousal.
and inebriety must stop. Her tattle
at 1a Feria, the Mexican ranch, are con
fiscated by l.ongorio, Mexican federal
general, and site finds that it is because
Ed has been helping the rebel junta.
CHAPTER VI—Entertained at their
home by Blaze Jones and his daughter
Paloma, l>ave hears something about the
Tad Lewis outfit, which is suspected of
cattle stealing. With Ricardo Guzman and
his boys Dave and Blaze go on a scout
after cattle thieves.
CHAPTER VII—Iaw catches two of the
I>ewiB outfit branding a stolen calf and in
a fight kills one and has his horse shot
under him. He trails the oilier thief to
I-as Palmas, where he is Insulted by Ed
Austin, whom he knows to be very friend
ly with the Lewis outfit.
CHAPTER VIII—Iaw follows up the
trail of Urbina, the escaped thief, to no
purpose except to confirm Austin's con
nection with the Lewis outfit.
CHAPTER IX—On her homeward jour
ney Alaire again meets Longorio, who
openly makes love to her. She obtains
the release of Juan Garcia from prison.
CHAPTER X—Jose Sanchez swears to
find out the truth about tlie slaying of
Panfllo Dave gets further information
about the 1-ewls outfit. Ricardo Guzman
goes to Mexico to sell horses to the fed
erals.
‘‘You do~~ speak their Innprunge,’’
Alaire said, after she had watched
them for a few minutes. “You have
bewitched the creuture." Dave nod
CHAPTER XI—Dave and Alaire attend
the Las Palmas rodeo. She presents Dave
with a horse to replace the one killed by
the cattle thieves. They discuss the kill
ing of Panfllo.
CHAPTER XII—Guzman docs not re
turn from Mexico and his reported killing
arouses Americans. Dave and Blase ar
range to go to Romero across ths river
and recover the body. Jose hears that
Dave killed Panfllo and goes to join Lon
gorio. Paloma and Alaire arrange to go
to the river to await the return of Blaze
and Dave. Longorio appears at Las Pal
mas with an escort and overhears Ed
telephoning news of the trip after Guz
man to Tad Lewis.
CHAPTER XIII—longorio compels Ed
to go to the river with him. The girls
follow and hide in the pumphouse. The
Lewis outfit appears. When Blaze and
Dave cross the river a general mix-up Is
prevented by Captain Evans and his rang
ers who appear on the scene and support
Dave. Dave arrests Urbina.
CHAPTER XIV—Blaze dodges dress
makers and fortune tellers.
CHAPTER XV—Strange, a fortune tell
er, warns Pave that Jose is cooking up
trouble for him and Alaire. Pave goes to
see her and in a moment of emotional
stress they confess their love.
CHAPTER XVI—Ed. who had disap
peared after the Guzman incident, comes
back and Alaire decides to divorce him.
She writes to her lawyer and to Dave.
Jose carries Dave's letter to Longorio,
who orders him to kill Ed.
CHAPTER XVII—Alaire moves to di
vorce Ed. War wif i Mexico seems immi
nent. Dave comes to the Jones home
sick. Strange warns him that Alaire Is
gone to 1a Ferla and is in great danger.
CHAPTER XVIII—Dave goes to Ias
Palmas and arrives Just alter the murder
of Ed Austin.
“I am Innocent of any crime; there
fore I am brave. Hut you—the blood
of Innocent men means nothing to you
—Punfilois murder proves that—sr
complete your work. Make an end of
me.”
“Re still!” Dave commanded, thickly.
But the fellow’s hatred was out of
bounds now, und by the bitterness of
his vituperation he seemed to Invite
death. Dave interrupted his vitriolic
curses to ask harshly:
“Will you tell me, or will you force
me to wring the truth out of you?”
Jose answered by spitting at his cap
tor; then he gritted an unspeakable
epithet from between his teeth.
Dave addressed him with an air of
finality. “You killed that man and
your life is forfeit, so It doesn’t make
much difference whether I take it oi
whether the state takes it. You are
brave enough to die—most of you Mexi
cans are—but the state can't force you
to speak, and I can.” Jose sneered.
“Oh yes, I can! 1 intend to know all
that you know, and It will bd better
for you to tell me voluntarily. I must
learn where Senora Austin is, and I
must learn quickly, if I have to kill you
by inches to get the truth.”
“So! Torture, eh? Good. I can be
lieve it of you. Well, a slow’ fire will
not make me speak.
“No. A fire would be too easy, Jose.”
“Eh?”
Without answer Dave strode out of
the room. He was bnek before his
prisoner could do more than wrench
at his bonds, and With him he brought
his lariut and his canteen.
“What are you going to do?” Jose in
quired, backing uvvuy until he was once
more at bay.
“I'm going to give you n drink."
- “VJIUlalsjJ You. tliiuJi jrqtL can make
mo drunk?” The horse-breaker laughed
loudly but uneasily.
“Not whisky; water. I'm going to
give you a drink of water.”
‘‘What capers!”
“When you've drunk enough you'll
tell me why you killed your employer
and where General Longorio has taken
liis wife. Yes, and every thing, else 1
want to know.” Seizing the amazed
Mexican, Dave flung him upon Mo
rales’ hard board bench, and in spite of
the fellow’s struggles deftly made him
fast. When lie had finished—and ii
was no easy job—Jose lay “spread
eagled” upon his hack, his wrists and
ankles firmly bound to the corners an'!
foot posts, his body secured by a tight
loop over his waist. The rope cut
painfully and brought a curse from the
prisoner when lie strained at it. Law
surveyed him with a face of stone.
“I don't want to do this,” he de
clared, “but i know your kind. 1 give
you one more chance. Will yon tell
uie?”
Jose drew his lips haek in a snarl of
rage and pain, and Dave realized that
further words were useless. lie felt a
certain pity for his victim and no little
admiration for his courage, hut such
feelings were of small consequenct
as against his agonizing fears fot
Aluire's safety. Uad he in the least
uotlDted Jose's guilty Knowledge 01
Longorio’s Intentions, Dave would have
hesitated before employing the bar
barous measures lie had in mind, hut—
there was nothing else for it. lie pulled
tlie canteen cork and jammed the
mouthpiece firmly to Jose's lips. Clos
ing the fellow's nostrils with his free
hund, he forced hint to drink.
Jose clenched his teeth, lie tried to
roll tils head, he held liis breath until
his face grew purple and his eyes
bulged. He strained like a man upon
the rack. The bench creaked to his
muscular contortions; the rope tight
ened. It was terribly cruel, this crusli
ing of a strong will bent on reslstnuee
to the uttermost; hut never was an
executioner more pitiless, never did a
prisoner’s agony receive less consid
eration. The warm water spilled over
Jose’s face. It drenched his neck and
chest; his joints creaked ns he strove
for freedom and tried to twist his head
out of Law’s iron grasp. The seconds
dragged, until finally nature asserted
herself. The Imprisoned breath burst
forth; there sounded a loud gurgling
cry and n choking inhalation. Jose’s
body writhed with the convulsions of
drowning as the water and air were
sucked into his lungs. Law was kneel-,
ing over his victim now. ids weight and
strength so applied that Jose had no
liberty of action and could only drink,
coughing and fighting for air. Some
how he managed to revive himself
briefly and again shut his teeth; hut
a moment more and he was again
retched with the furious battle for air.
more desperate now than before. After
a while Law freed his victim’s nostrils
and allowed him a partial breath, then
once more crushed the mouthpiece
against his lips. By and by, to relieve
his torture, Jose began to drink In
grertt noisy guilts, striving to empty
the vesstj.
But the stomachs rapacity Is lim
ited. In time .Jose felt himself burst
ing; the liquid began to regurgitate.
This was not mere pain that lie suf
fered, but the ultimate nightmare hor
ror of death more awful than anything
he laid ever Imagined. Jose would
have met a bullet, a knife, a lash, with
out flinching; flames would not have
served to weaken his resolve; but this
slow drowning was infinitely worse
than the worst he had thought pos
! sible; lie was suffocating by long,
| black, agonizing minutes. Every nerve
| and muscle of ills body, every ceil in
his bursting lungs, fought against the
outrage In a purely physical frenzy
over which his will power had no con
trol. Nor would insensibility come to
his relief—Law watched him too care
fully for that, lie could not even voice
his sufferings by shrieks; he could only
writhe and retch and gurgle while the
ropes hit Into his flesh and his captor
knelt upon him like a monstrous stone
weight.
But Jose had made a hotter fight
than lie knew. Ttie canteen ran dry at
last, and Law was forced to release his
hold.
“Will you speak?” ho demanded.
Thinking that lie had come safely
through the ordeal, Jose shook, his
head; lie rolled Ids bulging, bloodshot
eyes and vomited, then managed to cull
(Jod to witness his innocence.
Dave went into the next room and
refilled the canteen. When he re
appeared with tile dripping vessi I In
his-hand, Jose tried to scream. But
ills throat was torn and strained; the
sound of his own voice frightened Mm.
| Once more the torment began. The
1 tortured man was weaker now, and in
consequence he resisted more feebly;
hut not until he was less than half <■ u
seious diil Law spare him to recover.
Jose lay sick, frightened. Inert. Die. e
watched him without ptt$\ The f« I
low’s wrists were black anil swollen,
bis lips were bleeding; he was
stretched like a dumb animal upon the
vivisectionist’s table, and no surgeon
with lance and scalpel could have
shown less emotion than did his in
quisitor. Having no Intention of <ie
Slowly, in Sighs and Whimpers, Cries
of Reluctance, His Story Came.
f eating his own ends, Dave allowed his
victim ample time in which to regain
his ability to suffer.
Alaire Austin had been right when
she said that Dave might be ruthless;
and yet tlie man was by no means in
capable of compassion. At the present
moment, however, lie considered him
self simply as the instrument by which
Alaire was to be saved. His own feel
ings had nothing to do with the mat
ter; neither had ttie sufferings of rliis
Mexican. Therefore he steeled himself
io prolong the agony until the murder
er’s stubborn spirit was worn down.
Once again he put his question, and,
again receiving (icimuco, jaiumeu oi«
canteen between Jose’s teeth.
Hut human nature Is weak. For the
fir<t time in his life Jose Sanchez felt
terror—a terror too awful to be en
dured—and he made the sign.
lie was no longer tlie Insolent defier,
the challenger, but an imploring
wretch, whose last powers of resist
ance had been completely shattered.
His frightened ey#Ss were glued to that
devilish vessel in which his manhood
had dissolved, the fear of it made a
woman of him.
Slowly, in sighs and whimpers. In
agonies of reluctance, his story came;
Ids words were rendered almost incom
prehensible by his abysmal fright.
When he had purged himself of his
secret Dave promptly unbound him;
then leaving him more than half dead,
he went to the telephone which con
nected the pumping stntion with Las
I’almas and called up the ranch.
He was surprised when Blaze .Tones
answered. Blaze, it seemed, hud just
arrived, summoned by news of the
tragedy. The countryside had been
alarmed and a search for Ed Austin’s
slayer was being organized.
“Call it otT." Dave told him. “I’ve
got your man.” Blaze stuttered his
surprise and incredulity. “I mean it.
it's Jose Sanchez, and he has con
fessed. I want you to come here,
quick; and come alone, if you don't
mind. I need your help."
Inside of ten minutes Jones piloted
his automobile into the clearing beside
the river, and, leaving his motor ruu
uing, leaped from the car.
Dave met him at the door of the
Morales house and briefly told him the
story of Jose’s capture.
“Say! That’s quick work.” the
rancher cried, admiringly. “Why, Ed
ain’t cold yet! You gave him the ‘wa
ter-cure,' eh? Now I reckoned It would
lake more than water to make a Mexi
can talk.”
“Jose wns hired for the work; he
laid for Ed Austin In the pecan grove
and shot him ns he passed.”
"Hired; tv ny tnis nonwre neeus
! /nick bangin', don’t he? I told ’em at
j Las Talmas that you’d rounded up the
guilty party, so I reckon they’ll be here
in a few minutes. We’ll just stretch
this horse-wrangler, and save the coun
ty some expense." Law shrugged. “I)o
what you like with him, but—It isn’t
necessary. lie’ll confess in regulation
form. I’m sure. I had to work fast to
learn what became of Mrs. Austin.”
“Miz Austin? What’s happened to
her?”
Dave’s voice changed; there was a
sudden quickening of his words.
“They’ve got her, Hluze. They waited
until they had her safe before they
killed Ed.”
“‘They?’ Who are you talkin'
about?”
“I mean Longorio and his outfit. He’s
got her over yonder.” Dave Hung out
u trembling hand toward the river.
Seeing that his hearer failed to com
prehend. he explained, swiftly: “lie’s
crazy about her—got one of those
1 Mexican infatuations—and you know
what that means.- He couldn’t steal
her from Las I’almas—she wouldn’t
have anything to do with him—so he
used that old cattle deal as an excuse
to got her across the border. Then he
put lid out of the way. She went of
her own accord, and she didn't tell
Austin, because, they were having
trouble. She’s gone to La Ferla. Blaze."
"La Kerin ! Then she's in for It.”
Dave nodded his agreement; for the
first time lila/.e noted how white and
set was his friend’s face.
“Longorio must have foreseen what
was coming," Dave went on. “That
country’s aflame; Americans aren’t
safe over there. If war is declared, a
pood many of them will never he heard
from. He knows that. He's got her
safe. She can’t get out.”
Blaze was very grave when nest he
spoke. “Dave, this is bad—had. 1
can’t understand what made her go.
Why, she must have been out of her
head. But we’ve got to do something.
We’ve got to burn the wires to Wash
ington—yes, and to Mexico City. We
must get the government to send sol
diers after her. What have we got ’em
for, anyhow?”
“Washington won’t do anything.
What can he done when there are thou
sands of American women in the same
danger? What steps can the govern
ment take with diplomatic relations
suspended? Those greasers are filling
their jails with our people rounding
’em up for the day of the big break.
No, Longorio saw it till coming lie>
no fool. He’s got her; she’s in there—
trapped.”
Blaze took the speaker by the shoul
der and faced him about. “Book here,”
said he, “I’m beginniu’ to get wise to
you. 1 believe you're—the mart in tiro
case.” When Dave nodded, he vented
Ids amazement in a long whistle. After
*1 moment lie asked, "Well, why did you
want me to come here alone, ahead of
tire others?”
“Because I want you to know the
whole inside of this thing so that you
can get busy when I’m gone; because 1
want to borrow what money you
have—”
“What you aimin’ to pull ofl'?’’ Blaze
inquired, suspiciously.
“I’m going to find her and bring her
out.”
“You? Why, Dave, you can’t get
through. This is a jolt fur the sol
diers.”
But Dave hardly seemed to hear him.
“You must start things moving at
once,” he said, urgently. “Spread the
news, get the story into tire papers,
notify the authorities. (Jet every in- '
fluence at work, from here to head
quarters; get your senator and the
governor of the state at work. Klls
worth will help you. And now give
Die your last dollar.”
Blaze emptied his pockets, shaking
uin simgg.v neaii me wane. *'L.R reria
is n hundred and fifty miles in,” he re
monstrated. , !
By rail from Pueblo, yes. But its
barely a bundled, straight from here.”
“You ain’t got a chance, single-hand
ed. You’re crazy to try it.”
Dave turned a sick, colorless face to
his friend. “They’ll carve a stone for
Longorio if I do get through.” He
culled to Montrosa, and the mure came
to him, holding her head to one side
so us not to tread upon her dragging
reins.
“I’m ’most tempted to go with you,”
Blaze stammered uncertainly.
“No. Somebody has to stay here and
stir tilings up. If we hud twenty men
like you we might cut our way in ami
out, but there’s no time to organize,
and, anyhow, the government would
probably stop us. I’ve got a hunch
that I'll make It. If I don’t—why, it's
ail right.”
The two men shook hands lingering
ly, awkwardly; then Blaze managed to
wish his friend luck. “If you don’t
come back,” he said, with a peculiar
catch In his voice, “I reckon there's
enough good Texans left to follow your
trail. I'll sure look forward to it.”
Dave took the river bank io Sangre
de Cristo, where, by means of the di
lapidated ferry, lie gained the Mexican
side. Once across, lie rode straight up
toward the village of Romero. When
challenged by an undersized soldier
he merely spurred Montrosa forward,
eying the sentry so grimly that the
man did no more than finger his rille
uncertainly, cursing under his breath
tile overhearing airs of all gringos. Nor
dirt the rider trouble to make the slight
est detour, but cantered the full length
of Romero’s dusty street, the target of
more than one pair of hostile eyes. To
those who saw him, soldiers and civil
ians alike, it was evident that this
stranger had business, -and no one felt
called upon to question its nature.
There ure men who carry an air more
potent than A bodyguard, and Dave
Law was one of these. Before the vil
lage hud thoroughly awakened to his
coming he was gone, without a glance
to the right or left, without a word to
anyone.
When Romero wns at liis bank he
rode for a mile or two through a region
of tiny scattered farms and neglected
garden patches, after which he came
out into the mesquite. For all the
signs he saw, he might then have been
in the heart of a foreign country. Mex
ico hud swallowed him.
As the afternoon heat subsided, Mont
rosa let herself out into a freer gait
and began to cover the distune? rapid
ly, heading due west through a land
of cactus and dagger, of thorn and
barb and bramble.
The roads were unfenced, the mea
i dows desolate; the huts were frequent
ly untenanted. Ahead the sky burned
splendidly, and the sunset grew more
brilliant, more dazzling, until it glori
fied the whole mean, thirsty, cruel
countryside.
Dave’s eyes were set upon that riot
of blazing colors, but for the time it
failed to thrill him. In that welter of
changing hues and tints he saw only
red. Red! That was the color of
blood; it stood for passion, lust, vio
lence; and it was a fitting badge of
color for this land of revolutions and
alarms. At first he saw little else—
except the hint of black despair to'fol
low. Rut there was gold in the sunset,
too—the yellow gold of ransom! That
was Mexico—red and yellow, blood and
gold, lust and license. Once the rider’s
fancy began to work In this fashion. It
would not rest, and as the sunset grew
in splendor he fotjuti Iji it richer mean
ings. Bed was the color of n woman’s
lips—yes, and ft woman's hair. The
deepening hlne of the high sky over
head was the hue of a certain woman’s
eyes. A warm, soft breeze out of the
west beat into his face, and he remem
bered how warm and soft Alaire’s
breath had been upon his cheek.
The woman of ills desires was yon
der, where those colors warred, and
she was mantled in red and gold and
purple fctr his coining. The thought
aroused him; lie felt only a throbbing
eagerness to see her and to take her
in his arms once more before the end.
With his head high and his face
agleam. he rode into the west, into the
heart of the sunset.
CHAPTER XX. ■,
La Feria.
‘‘What’s this 1 hear about war?” Do
lores inquired of iter mistress, a few
days after their arrival at La Feria
“They tell me that Mexico is invaded
and that the American soldiers have
already killed more than a thousand
women and children.”
‘‘Who tells you this?” Aiaire asked.
“The men—everybody,” Dolore?
waved a hand in the direction of tht
other ranch buildings. “Our people are
buzzing like bees with the news, and
of course, no one cares to work when
tlie Americans are coining."
“1 shall have to put an end to such
talk.”
“This morning the word came that
the revolution is ended and that the
soldiers of both parties are uniting tt
fight for their liberties. They say the
gringos are killing till the old people—
everyone, in fact, except the girls
whom they take with them. Already
they have begun the most hnrrihh
practices. Why. at Kspinal"—Dolores
eyes were round—“would you believe
it?—those Yankee soldiers ate a baby
They roasted the little dear like t
cabrito and ate it ! I tell you, it rnaket
wild talk among the peladors.”
“Do you believe such stories?’
Aiaire inquired, with some amusement
“Um-in-—not altogether. But, all tht
same. I think it is time we were goittf
home.”
i ms is inline. Tor me, notores.
“Yes, but now that wur—”
“'there Isn’t any war, and there
won’t be any. However, if you are
nervous I’ll send you buck to Las Pal
mas at once.”
“Glory of God ! It would be the end
of me. These Mexicans would recog
nize me instantly us an American, for
I have the appearance and the culture.
You can imagine what would happen
to me. They would tear me from the
train. It was nothing except General
Longorlo’s soldiers that brought us
safely through from Neuvo Pueblo.”
"Then I’m glad that he insisted up
i on sending them witli us. Now tell tht
I
\ 4/7
\ /7/ / e
“What’s- This I Hear About War?"
mneh-hands to put no faith in those
'idieulous stories. If they wish tiie
ruth let them ask General Longorlo;
le will be here today and quiet their
fears.”
"You think he intends to pay us for
>ur cuttle?”
“Yes.”
Dolores pondered a moment. "Well,
aerhaps lie does—it is not his money,
'•’or 1ltat matter, he would give all Mex
co if you asked it. Tse 1 liis love
•onsumes him like ti fever.”
Aluire stirred uneasily; then she
-ose and went to an open window,
which looked out into the tiny patio
with its trickling fountain and its rank,
intended plants. “Why do you insist
that he loves me?” site asked. “All
Mexicans are gallant aud pay absurd
■ompllments. It's just a way they have.
He has never spoken a word that could
give offense." As Dolores said noth
ing. she went on, hesitatingly, “I can't
very well refuse to see him. for I don’t
possess even a receipt to show that he
took those cattle."
“Oh. you must not offend him," Do
lores agreed, hastily, “or we’d never
leave Mexico alive.” With which cheer
ing announcement the housekeeper
heaved a deep sigh and went about her
duties with a gloomy face.
Longorlo arrived that afternoon, ami
Aluire received him in the great naked
living room of ibe hacienda, with her
best attempt at formality. But her
coolness served not in the least to chill
his fervor.
“Seiinra,” he cried, eagerly, “I have
a thousand things to tell you, things of
tiie greatest importance. They have
been upon my tongue for hours, but
now that 1 behold you 1 grow drunk
with delight and my lips frame nothing
hut words of admiration for your
beauty. So! i feast my eyes." He re
tained his warnj. clasp of her Augers,
seeming to envelop her uncomfortably
with his ardor.
‘‘What is it yon have to tell me?” she
asked him, withdrawing her hand.
“Well, I hardly know where to begin
—events have moved so swiftly, and
such incredible thtngsr*hftve happened.
Even now I am In u doze, fdr "fifstory
is being made every hour—history for
Mexico, for you, and for me. I bring
you good news and bad news; some
thing to startle you and set your brain
in u whirl. I planned to send a mes
senger ahead of me, and then I said:
‘No, this is a crisis; therefore no
tongue but mine shall apprise her, no
hand but mlrfe shall comfort her. Only
a coward shrinks from the unpleasant;
I shall lighten her distress and awaken
In her breast new hope, new happi
ness'—”
“What do you mean?” Ala I re ln
quired, sharply. “You say you bring
bud news?”
The general nodded. “In a way, ter
rible, shocking! And yet I look be
yond the immediate and see in it a
blessing. So must you. To me it
spells the promise of my unspoken
longings, my whispered prayers.” Not
ing Ids hearer’s growing bewilderment,
he laid a hand familiarly upon her
arm. “No matter how I tell you. It will
be a Mow, for death Is always sud
den ; It always finds us unprepared.”
“Death? Who—is dead?”
“Restrain yourself. Allow for my
clumsiness.”
“Who? Please tell me!”
“Someone very close to you and very
dear to you at one time. My knowl
edge of your long unhappiness alone
gives me courage to speak.”
Alaire raised her fluttering fingers to
her tin oat : her eyes were wide as site
said: “You don’t mean—Mr. Austin?"
"Yes.” Lougorio scrutinized het
closely, as if to measure tin* effect ot
his disclosure. “Sonora. you are free!”
Alaire uttered a breathless excluma
tion; then, feeling his gaze burning in
to tier turned away, but not before he
had noted iter sudden pallor, the
blanching of her lips.
This unexpected Announcement
dazed her; it scattered her thought*
and rohhed her of words, hut just whai
her dominant emotion was Ht the mo
ment she could not tell. Once her first
giddiness had passed, however, ouct
he truth had borne in upon her, she
ound that she felt no keen anguish,
and certainly no Impulse to weep.
Rather she experienced a vague horror,
such as the death of an acquaintance
or of a familiar relative might evoke.
Ed had been anything but a true hus
band. and her feeling now was more
for the memory of the man he had
been, for the hoy she had known and
loved, than for the man whose name
she bore.
So he was gone and. Longorio said,
she was free. It meant much. She
(realized dimly that in this one. moment
her whole life bad changed. She had
never thought of this way out of her
embarrassments; she had been pre
pared, in fact, for anything except this.
Dead! Jt was deplorable, for Ed was
young. Ot*ce ihc first shock had passed,
away, she became conscious of a deep
pity for the irinn, and a cotnphrfe for
giveness for tin* misery be had caused
i her. After a time she faced ihe news
bearer. and in a strained voice In
qiiiredg
“How did it happen? Was it—be
cause of me?"
“No. no! Rest your mind on that
score. See! l understand your con
cern and I share your intimate,
thoughts. No, it whs an accident, or
I dained by God. His end was the result
of ids own folly, a gunshot wound
while he was drunk, 1 believe. Now
you will understand why 1 said that P
bore tidings both good and erii, and
i why 1, of all people, should, be the one
I to impart them."
Alalre turned questioning eves upotr
him, us if to fathom his meaning, uivf
he answered her witli his brilliant
smile. Falling to evoke a response*,, he
went or. :
“Ever since I heard of it T have re
peated over and over attain, 'It is a;
miracle; it is the will of God.’ Comet. t
then, we know each other so well that
we may speak frankly. luff us be' hon
est and pretend to no counterfeit emo
tions. Let us recognize tu this o^d.v
your deliverance and the certainty of'
that Messed happiness which divine,
providence offers us both.’,’
“lloth?” she repeated, dully.
“Need 1 be plainer? Y oil know my
heart You have read me. You under
stand hi w 1 have throttled rty land
ings and remained mute while all my
being called to you.’’__
I fOontiuued Next Week.)