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| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-03-03 08:49:58 -0800 |
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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-03-03 08:49:58 -0800 |
| commit | dcc0157ad5443e239ffe0914ac1016fbaa362ea5 (patch) | |
| tree | 0a28c35b8ea20d1e1798bdb0ba202bd3fa584dcb /44633-h/44633-h.html | |
| parent | c733ca60d7f4805f306b9f0c19cb90b2a8f3d31c (diff) | |
Diffstat (limited to '44633-h/44633-h.html')
| -rw-r--r-- | 44633-h/44633-h.html | 18509 |
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- float: left; - margin-right: 1em } - -.align-right { clear: right; - float: right; - margin-left: 1em } - -.align-center { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto } - -div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } - -/* compact list items containing just one p */ -li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } - -.first { margin-top: 0 !important; - text-indent: 0 !important } -.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } - -span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } -img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } -span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } - -.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.toc-pageref { float: right } - -@media screen { - .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage - { margin: 10% 0; } - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -/* DIV */ -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } - -</style> -<title>HELD TO ANSWER</title> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="Held to Answer" /> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="Peter Clark Macfarlane" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1916" /> -<meta name="MARCREL.ill" content="W. B. King" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="44633" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2014-01-08" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="Held to Answer" /> - -<link href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" rel="schema.DCTERMS" /> -<link href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators" rel="schema.MARCREL" /> -<meta content="Held to Answer" name="DCTERMS.title" /> -<meta content="answer.rst" name="DCTERMS.source" /> -<meta content="en" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" name="DCTERMS.language" /> -<meta content="2014-01-09T04:22:40.374954+00:00" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.modified" /> -<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" /> -<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" /> -<link href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44633" rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" /> -<meta content="Peter Clark Macfarlane" name="DCTERMS.creator" /> -<meta content="W. B. King" name="MARCREL.ill" /> -<meta content="2014-01-08" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" /> -<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" /> -<meta content="EpubMaker 0.3.20a7 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator" /> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="held-to-answer"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">HELD TO ANSWER</span></h1> - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="align-None container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> -included with this eBook or online at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="align-None container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: Held to Answer -<br /> -<br />Author: Peter Clark Macfarlane -<br /> -<br />Release Date: January 08, 2014 [EBook #44633] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>HELD TO ANSWER</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="align-None container frontispiece"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 78%" id="figure-37"> -<span id="follow-your-star-john-bessie-declared-stoutly-frontispiece"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""Follow your star, John," Bessie declared stoutly. FRONTISPIECE." src="images/img-front.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"Follow your star, John," Bessie declared stoutly. FRONTISPIECE. </span><em class="italics">See page</em><span class="italics"> </span><a class="italics reference internal" href="#id1">82</a><span class="italics">.</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container titlepage"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">HELD -<br />TO ANSWER</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="italics large">A NOVEL</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">BY</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">PETER CLARK MACFARLANE</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="small">AUTHOR OF -<br />THOSE WHO HAVE COME BACK, ETC.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY -<br />W. B. KING</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">NEW YORK -<br />GROSSET & DUNLAP -<br />PUBLISHERS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container verso"> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics small">Copyright, 1916,</em><span class="small"> -<br />BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="italics small">All rights reserved</em></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="small">Published, February, 1916 -<br />Reprinted, February, 1916 (four times)</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CONTENTS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">CHAPTER</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>I </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-face-that-did-not-fit">The Face That Did not Fit</a><span> -<br />II </span><a class="reference internal" href="#one-man-and-another">One Man and Another</a><span> -<br />III </span><a class="reference internal" href="#when-the-dark-went-away">When the Dark Went Away</a><span> -<br />IV </span><a class="reference internal" href="#advent-and-adventure">Advent and Adventure</a><span> -<br />V </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-rate-clerk">The Rate Clerk</a><span> -<br />VI </span><a class="reference internal" href="#on-two-fronts">On Two Fronts</a><span> -<br />VII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-high-bid">The High Bid</a><span> -<br />VIII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#john-makes-up">John Makes Up</a><span> -<br />IX </span><a class="reference internal" href="#a-demonstration-from-the-gallery">A Demonstration from the Gallery</a><span> -<br />X </span><a class="reference internal" href="#a-stage-kiss">A Stage Kiss</a><span> -<br />XI </span><a class="reference internal" href="#seed-to-the-wind">Seed to the Wind</a><span> -<br />XII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#a-thing-incalculable">A Thing Incalculable</a><span> -<br />XIII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-scene-played-out">The Scene Played Out</a><span> -<br />XIV </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-method-of-a-dream">The Method of a Dream</a><span> -<br />XV </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-catastrophe">The Catastrophe</a><span> -<br />XVI </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-king-still-lives">The King Still Lives</a><span> -<br />XVII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#when-dreams-come-true">When Dreams Come True</a><span> -<br />XVIII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-house-divided">The House Divided</a><span> -<br />XIX </span><a class="reference internal" href="#his-next-adventure">His Next Adventure</a><span> -<br />XX </span><a class="reference internal" href="#a-woman-with-a-want">A Woman with a Want</a><span> -<br />XXI </span><a class="reference internal" href="#a-cry-of-distress">A Cry of Distress</a><span> -<br />XXII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#pursuit-begins">Pursuit Begins</a><span> -<br />XXIII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#capricious-woman">Capricious Woman</a><span> -<br />XXIV </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-day-of-all-days">The Day of All Days</a><span> -<br />XXV </span><a class="reference internal" href="#his-bright-idea">His Bright Idea</a><span> -<br />XXVI </span><a class="reference internal" href="#unexpectedly-easy">Unexpectedly Easy</a><span> -<br />XXVII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-first-alarm">The First Alarm</a><span> -<br />XXVIII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-arrest">The Arrest</a><span> -<br />XXIX </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-angel-advises">The Angel Advises</a><span> -<br />XXX </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-scene-in-the-vault">The Scene in the Vault</a><span> -<br />XXXI </span><a class="reference internal" href="#a-misadventure">A Misadventure</a><span> -<br />XXXII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-coward-and-his-conscience">The Coward and His Conscience</a><span> -<br />XXXIII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-battle-of-the-headlines">The Battle of the Headlines</a><span> -<br />XXXIV </span><a class="reference internal" href="#a-way-that-women-have">A Way That Women Have</a><span> -<br />XXXV </span><a class="reference internal" href="#on-preliminary-examination">On Preliminary Examination</a><span> -<br />XXXVI </span><a class="reference internal" href="#a-promise-of-strength">A Promise of Strength</a><span> -<br />XXXVII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-terms-of-surrender">The Terms of Surrender</a><span> -<br />XXXVIII </span><a class="reference internal" href="#sunday-in-all-people-s">Sunday in All People's</a><span> -<br />XXXIX </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-cup-too-full">The Cup Too Full</a><span> -<br />XL </span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-elder-in-the-chair">The Elder in the Chair</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-face-that-did-not-fit"><span class="bold x-large">HELD TO ANSWER</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER I</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE FACE THAT DID NOT FIT</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Two well-dressed men waited outside the rail on what -was facetiously denominated the mourners' bench. One -was a packer of olives, the other the owner of oil wells. -A third, an orange shipper, leaned against the rail, -pulling at his red moustaches and yearning wistfully across -at a wattle-throated person behind the roll-top desk who -was talking impatiently on the telephone. Just as the -receiver was hung up with an audible click, a buzzer on -the wall croaked harshly,—one long and two short -croaks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Instantly there was a scuffling of feet upon the -linoleum over in a corner, where mail was being opened by a -huge young fellow with the profile of a mountain and a -gale of tawny hair blown up from his brow. Undoubling -suddenly, this rangy figure of a man shot upward with -Jack-in-the-box abruptness and a violence which -threatened the stability of both the desk before him and the -absurdly small typewriter stand upon his left. Seizing -a select portion of the correspondence, he lunged past the -roll-top desk of Heitmuller, the chief clerk, and aimed -toward the double doors of grained oak which loomed -behind. But his progress was grotesque, for he careened -like a camel when he walked. In the first stride or two -these careenings only threatened to be dangerous, but in -the third or fourth they made good their promise. One -lurching hip joint banged the drawn-out leaf of the chief -clerk's desk, sweeping a shower of papers to the floor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John—dammit!" snapped Heitmuller irritably. -The other hip caracoled against the unopened half of the -double doors as John yawed through. The door -complained loudly, rattling upon its hinges and in its brazen -sockets, so that for a moment there was clatter and -disturbance from one end of the office to the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The orange shipper started nervously, and the chief -clerk, cocking his head gander-wise, gazed in disgust at -the confusion on the floor, while far within Robert -Mitchell, the General Freight Agent of the California -Consolidated Railway, lifted a massive face from his desk -with a look of mild reproof in his small blue eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet when the huge stenographer came back, and with -another scuffling of clumsy feet stooped to retrieve the -litter about Heitmuller's revolving chair, he seemed so -regretful and his features lighted with such a helplessly -apologetic smile that even his awkwardness appeared -commendable, since it was so obviously seasoned with the -grace of perfectly good intent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Appreciation of this was advertised in the forgiving -chuckle of the chief clerk who, standing now at the rail, -remarked </span><em class="italics">sotto voce</em><span> to the orange shipper: "John is as -good as a vaudeville act!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this the red moustaches undulated appreciatively, -while the two "mourners" laughed so audibly that the -awkward man, once more in his chair, darted an embarrassed -glance at them, and the red flush came again to his -face. He suspected they were laughing at him, and as -if to comfort himself, a finger and thumb went into his -right vest pocket and drew out a clipping from the -advertising columns of the morning paper. Holding it deep in -his hand, he read furtively:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><em class="italics">ACTING TAUGHT</em><span>. Charles Kenton, character actor, -temporarily disengaged, will receive a few select pupils -in dramatic expression at his studio in The Albemarle. -Terms reasonable.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Then John looked across aggressively at the men who -had laughed. They were not laughing now, but nodding -in his direction, and whispering busily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What were they saying? That he was a joke, a failure? -That he had been in this chair seven years? That -he was a big, snubbed, defeated, over-worked handy-man -about this big, loosely organized office? That in seven -years he had neither been able to get himself promoted -nor discharged? No doubt!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As if to get away from the thought, John turned from -his typewriter to the open window and looked out. There -was the spire of the grand old First Church down there -below him. Yonder were the sky-notching business -blocks of the pushing city of Los Angeles, as it was in the -early nineteen hundreds. There, too, were the -villa-crowned heights to the north, shut in at last by the -barren ridges of the Sierra Madre Mountains, some of -which, in this month of January, were snow-capped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But here were these foolish men still nodding and -whispering. Good fellows, too, but blind. What did they -know about him really?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They knew that he was a stenographer, but they did -not know that he was a stenographer to the glory of God!—one -who cleaned his typewriter, dusted his desk, opened -the mail, wrote his letters, ate, walked, slept, all to the -honor of his creator—that the whole of life to him was -a sort of sacrament.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They thought he was beaten and discouraged, an -industrial slave, drawn helplessly into the cogs. They, -poor, purblind materialists, were without vision. They -did not know that there were finer things than pickles and -crude oil. They did not know that he was to soar; that -already his wings were budding, nor that he lived in an -inner state of spiritual exaltation as delicious as it was -unsuspected. They pitied him; they laughed -commiseratingly. He did not want their commiseration; he -spurned their laughter and their pity. He was full of -youth and the exuberance of hope. He was full of an -expanding strength that made him stronger as his dream -grew brighter. Only his eyes were tired. The cross -lights were bad. For a moment he shaded his brow -tenderly with his hand, reflecting that he must hereafter use -an eye-shade by day as methodically he used one in his -nightly study.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The morning moved along. The yearning orange -shipper went away. One mourner rose and passed inside. -The other waited impatiently for his turn to do the same. -Luncheon time came for John, and he ate it in the file -room—ravenously; and while he ate he read—the -Congressional Record; and reading, made notations on the -margin, for John was preparing for what he was -preparing, although he did not quite know what. The train -of destiny was rumbling along, and when it stopped at his -station, he proposed to swing on board.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His luncheon down swiftly, as much through hunger as -through haste, he swung out of the door, bound for -Charles Kenton, "actor—temporarily disengaged—Hotel -Albemarle—terms reasonable," moving with such -headlong speed that he was soon within that self-important -presence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hampstead is my name," he blurted, with clumsy -directness, "John Hampstead," and the interview with -Destiny was on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The first trouble with you," declared the white-haired -actor critically, "is that your face doesn't fit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John wet a lip and hitched a nervous leg, but sat -awkwardly silent, his eyes boring hungrily, as if waiting for -more. The actor, however, was slow to add more. -Faces were his enthusiasm, as well as the raw material of -his profession, but this face puzzled him, so that before -committing himself further he paused to survey it again: -the strong nose with its hump of energy, the well -buttressed chin, and then the broad forehead with its -unusually thick, bony ridge encircling the base of the brows -like a bilge keel, proclaiming loudly that here was a man -with racial dynamite in his system, one who, whatever else -he might become, was now and always a first-class animal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The eyebrows heightened this suggestion by being -thick and yellow, and sweeping off to the temples in a -scroll-like flare. The forehead itself was broad, but -gathered a high look from that welter of tawny hair -which was roached straight up and back, giving the effect -of one who plunges headlong.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the eyes completely modified the countenance. -They did not plunge. They halted and beamed softly. -Gray and deep-seated, they made all that face's force the -force of tenderness, by burning with a light that was -obviously inner and spiritual. The mouth, again, while -as cleanly chiseled as if cut from marble,—sensitive, -impressionistic, fine, was, alas! weak; or if not weak, -advertising weakness by an habitual expression of lax -amiability; although along with this the actor noted that -the two lips, buttoning so loosely at the corners, could -none the less collaborate in a most engaging smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kenton concluded his second appraisal with a little -gesture of impatience. The man's features gave each other -the lie direct, and that was all there was to it. They -said: This man is a beast, a great, roaring lion of a -man; and then they said: No, this lion is a lamb, a mild, -dreamy, sucking dove sort of person.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's it," he iterated. "Your face doesn't fit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead did not wince.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The question is," he proposed, in a voice husky with -a mixture of embarrassment and determination, "how -am I to make it fit? Or, failing that, how am I to get -somewhere with a face that doesn't fit?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The actor's reply was half sagacity, half "selling -talk", mixed with some judicious flattery and tinged -with inevitable gallery play, although there was no gallery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Elocution?" Kenton observed, with a little grimace -of derision. "No! Oratory? Not at all!" The -weight of his withering scorn was tremendous. "There -are no such things. It is all acting! A man speaks with -the whole of himself—his eyes, his mouth, his body, his -walk, his pose—everything. That's what you need to -learn. Self-expression! I can make your face fit. -That's simple enough," and Kenton waved his hand as if -the re-stamping of a man's features was the easiest thing -he did. "I can make your body graceful. I can take -that voice of yours and make it strong as the roar of a -bull, and as soft as rich, brown velvet. Yes," and the -actor leaped to his feet in growing enthusiasm, "I can -make 'em all respond to every whim of what's passing -inside. But," he asked suddenly, with a penetrating -glance, "will that make an orator of you? Well, that -depends on what's passing inside. It takes a great soul -to make an orator—great imagination, mind, feelings, -sentiments. Have you got 'em? I doubt it! I doubt it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old man confirmed his dubiousness with the -uncomplimentary emphasis of hesitating silence. In the -sincerity of his critical analysis, he had forgotten that he was -trying to secure a pupil. "And yet—and yet—" his -eye began to kindle as he looked, "I tell you I don't know, -boy—there's something—there might be something -behind that face of yours. It might come out, you know, -</span><em class="italics">it might come out</em><span>!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kenton drawled the last words out slowly in a deeply -speculative tone, and then asked abruptly: "How old -are you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Twenty-four," admitted John, feeling suddenly as if -he confessed the years of Methuselah.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the dark eyes of the old actor sparkled, and his -long, mobile lips parted in the ghost of a sigh which crept -out through teeth stained yellow by years and tobacco, -after which he ejaculated admiringly: "My God, but -you are young!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This came as an inspiring thought to John. He did -feel young, all but his eyes. What was the matter with -them that the lids were so woodeny of late? Yes; he was -young, despite seven submerged years, and the wings of -his soul were preening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Back in the General Freight Office, John fell upon his -work with happy vigor. Spat, spat, spat, and a letter was -on its way from Dear Sir to Yours truly. But in the -midst of these spattings, he paused to muse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Kenton said he could make me graceful," the big -fellow was communing over his typewriter, when abruptly -the outer door opened and, after a single glance, John -appeared to forget both his communings and his work. -Swinging about, he sat transfixed, his odd features turned -eccentrically handsome by a light of adoration which -began to glow upon them, as if an astral presence had -entered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet to the unprejudiced observer the newcomer was no -heavenly being, but a mere schoolgirl, whose dress had -not been long at the shoe-top stage. With a swish of -skirts and an excited ripple of laughter, she had burst in -like a breeze of youth itself. But to this breeziness of -youth the young lady added the indefinable thing called -charm, and the promise of greater charm to come. She -was already tall and would be taller, fair to look upon and -certain to be fairer. To a dress of some warm red color, -a touch of piquancy was added by a Tam-o'-Shanter cap -of plaid that was itself pushed jauntily to one side by a -wealth of crinkly brown hair; while a bit of soft brown -fur encircled the neck and cuddled affectionately as a -kitten under the smooth, plump chin. The face was oval -with a tendency to fullness, and the nose, while by no -means </span><em class="italics">retroussé</em><span>, was as distinctively Irish as the sparkle -in the blue of her laughing eyes. Irish, too, were the -smiling lips, but the delicious dimples that flecked the -white and red of her cheeks were entirely without -nationality. They were just woman, budding, ravishing -woman; and there is no doubt whatever that they helped -to make the fascination of that merry face complete, when -its spell was cast over the soul of Hampstead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, John!" exclaimed the young lady with impulsive -familiarity, bounding through the gate and over to -his side, "I want you to write some invitations for me. -This is my week to entertain the Phrosos. See! Isn't -the paper dear?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were caresses in the big man's eyes as the girl -drew near, but he replied with less freedom than her own -form of address invited: "Good afternoon, Miss -Bessie."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The restraint in his speech however was much in -contrast to the bold poaching of his eyes. But Bessie -appeared to notice neither restraint nor the boldness as, -standing by his desk, with the big man looking on -interestedly, she undid the package in her hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The picture of frank and simple comradeship so -immediately established proclaimed a certain mutual -unawareness between this pretty, half-developed girl and -this big, unawakened man that was as delightful to -contemplate as it evidently was to enjoy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't it darling?" the girl demanded again, having -exposed to view the contents of her box, invitation paper -with envelopes to match, in color as pink as her own -cheeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Miss Bessie, it is dear," John concurred placidly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you are not looking at it," protested the girl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," the awkward man confessed, but entirely -unabashed, "I am looking at you—devouringly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you needn't," Bessie answered spicily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I need," John declared coolly. "You do not -know how much I need. You are the only unspoiled -human being I ever see in this office."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Old Heit does look rather shopworn," Bessie whispered -roguishly. "But, look here," and she thrust out -her lips in a pout that was at once defiant and tantalizing, -while her eyes rested for a moment upon the closed -double doors: "My father is an unspoiled human being."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What have you been doing to your hair?" Hampstead -demanded critically, refusing to be diverted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Doing it up, of course, as grown women should," -she vouchsafed with emphasis. "Don't you like it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a flash of her two hands, one of which snatched -out a pin while the other swept off the plaid cap, she spun -herself rapidly about so that John might view the new -coiffure from all angles.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, of course, I have to like it," he said, with mock -mournfulness. "I have to like anything you do, -because I like you, and because you are my boss's boss; but -I am sorry to lose the thick braids down your back, with -that delicious little velvety tuft at the end that I used to -catch up and tickle your ear with in the long, long ago."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But how long ago was that, Sir Critical?" challenged -Bessie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Long, long ago," affirmed Hampstead, with another -of his humorous sighs, "when it was a part of my duty -to take you to the circus and buy you peanuts and -lemonade of a color to match your cheeks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And that," dissented the young lady triumphantly, -"was only last September, and the one before that, and, -in fact, almost every circus day since I can remember."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But now that you are doing your hair up high, you -will not need me to take you to the circus again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This time the note of sadness in Hampstead's voice was -genuine, whereat all the loyalty in the soul of Bessie -leaped up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You shall," she declared, with an impulsive sweetness -of manner, while she leaned close and added in a whisper -that made the assurance deliciously confidential—"as -long as you wish."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I shall do it forever," declared John recklessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"However," and Miss Elizabeth Mitchell, with a playful -acquisition of dignity, switched the subject abruptly -by announcing briskly, "business before circuses."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Phrosos before rhinos, as it were," consented John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes—now take your pencil and let me dictate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," bantered John, "I allow no woman to dictate -to me. Besides, I write a perfectly horrible hand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh," explained Bessie, "but I want them on the -typewriter. It'll make the other girls wild. None of -them can command a typewriter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yet," protested Hampstead, "overlooking for the -moment the offensiveness in that word 'command', I -venture to suggest, Miss Mitchell, that things are not done -that way this year. A typewritten invitation isn't -considered good form in the best circles."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't care; we'll have 'em," declared Bessie. -"We'll set a new fashion." Her little foot smote the -floor sharply, and she stood bolt upright, so upright that -she leaned back, gazing at John through austere lashes, -her face lengthening till the dimples disappeared, while -the Cupid's bow of her lips became almost a memory.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, very well," weakened Hampstead, bowing his -head, "I cannot brook that gaze for long. It shall be -as your Grace commands."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tired, aren't you?" commented Bessie, suddenly -mollified, and scanning the big face narrowly, while a -look of soberness came into her eyes. "I can see it; and -your eyes look bad—very bad, John." Her voice was -girlishly sympathetic. "These people do not appreciate -you, either. But I do! I know!" and she nodded her -round chin stoutly, while she laid a hand upon the arm -of this man who, seven years her senior, was in some -respects her junior. "You are a very great man in the -day of his obscurity. It will come out some time. You -will be General Manager of the railroad, or something -very, very big. Won't you?" and she leaned close again -with that delightfully confidential whisper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I admit it," confessed John, with a happy chuckle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Bessie's restless eye had fallen upon the clock. -"Pickles and artichokes!" she exclaimed, with a sudden -change of mood, "I must flit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Snatching from her bag a crumpled note, she tossed -it on the desk, calling back: "Here. This is what I -want to say to 'em."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead sat for a moment looking after her, his lips -parted, his great hands set upon his knees with fingers -sprawled very widely, until Bessie was out of view behind -the double doors that admitted to her father's presence.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="one-man-and-another"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER II</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">ONE MAN AND ANOTHER</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In the dusk of the early winter's night in that land -where winter hints its presence but slightly in any other -way, two children dashed out of a rambling shell of a -cottage that sprawled rather hopelessly over an unkempt -lot, screaming: "Uncle John! Uncle John!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Roused from castled, starry dreams, the big stenographer, -who had been enjoying the feel of the dark upon -his eyes, and the occasional happy fragrance of orange -blossoms in his nostrils, greeted each with a bear hug, -and the three clattered together up the rickety steps into -a tiny hall. On the left was an oblong room, and beyond -it, through curtains, appeared a table set for dinner. -Light streaming in from this second room revealed the -first as a sort of parlor-studio, where a piano, a lounge, -easels, malsticks, palettes, and stacks of unframed -canvases jostled each other indifferently. An inspection -would have shown that these pictures were mostly -landscapes, with now and then a flower study in brilliant -colors; and to the practised eye a distressing atmosphere -of failure would have obtruded from every one.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From somewhere beyond the dining room came the -odor of cooking food, and the sound of energetic but -heavy footsteps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello, Rose," called John cheerily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the moment a woman came into view, bearing a -steaming platter. She was large of frame, with gray -eyes, with straight light hair, fair wide brow, and -features that showed a general resemblance to Hampstead's -own. Her face had a weary, disturbed look, but lighted -for a moment at the sight of her brother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Depositing the platter upon the table, the woman sank -heavily into a chair at the end, where she began -immediately to serve the plates. The children, a girl and a -boy, sat side by side, with John across from them. This -left a vacant chair opposite Rose, and before this a plate -was laid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a time the family fell upon its food in silence. -The girl was eleven years old perhaps, with eyes of -lustrous hazel, reddish-brown hair massed in curls upon -her shoulders and hanging below, cheeks hopelessly -freckled, mouth large, and nose also without hope through -being waggishly pugged. The boy, whose sharp, pale -features exhibited traces of a battle with ill health begun -at birth and not yet ended, had eyes that were like his -mother's, clear and gray, and there was a brave turn to -his upper lip that excited pity on a face so pale. He -looked older but was probably younger than his sister. -Hero-worship, frank and unbounded, was in the glance -with which the two from time to time beamed upon their -uncle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After a considerable interval, John, glancing first at -the empty chair and then at his sister, asked with -significant constraint in his tone: "Any word?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His sister's head was shaken disconsolately, and the -angular shoulders seemed to sink a little more wearily as -her face was again bowed toward her plate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After another interval, Hampstead remarked: "You -seem worried to-night, Rose."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The rent is due to-morrow," she replied in a wooden -voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that all?" exclaimed John, throwing back his head -with a relieved laugh. At the same time a hand had -stolen into his pocket, and he drew out a twenty-dollar -gold piece and tossed it across the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The rent is $17.50," observed Rose, eyeing the coin -doubtfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Keep the change," chuckled John, "and pass the potatoes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the woman's gloom appeared to deepen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You pay your board promptly," she protested. -"This is the third month in succession that you have also -paid the rent. Besides, you are always doing for the -children."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who wouldn't, I'd like to know?" challenged John, -surveying them both proudly; whereat Dick, his mouth -being otherwise engaged, darted a look of gratitude from -his great, wise eyes, while Tayna reached over and patted -her uncle's hand affectionately. "Tayna" was an -Indian name the girl's father had picked up somewhere.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Besides," went on John, "Charles is having an -uphill fight of it right now. It's a pleasure to stand by a -gallant fellow like him. He goes charging after his ideal -like old Sir Galahad."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the face of his sister refused to kindle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Like Don Quixote, you mean," she answered cynically. -"I haven't heard from him in three weeks. He -has not sent me any money in six. He sends it less and -less frequently. He becomes more and more irresponsible. -You are spoiling him to support his family for -him, and," she added, with a choke in her voice, while a -tear appeared in her eye, "he is spoiling us—killing our -love for him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The boy slipped down from his chair and stood beside -his mother, stroking her arm sympathetically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poppie's all right," he whispered in his peculiar -drawl. "He'll come home soon and bring a lot of money -with him. See if he don't!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I know," confessed Rose, while with one hand -she dabbed the corner of her eye with an apron, and with -the other clasped the boy impulsively to her. "I know I -should not give way before the children. But—but it -grows worse and worse, John!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nonsense!" rebuked her brother. "You're only -tired and run down. You need a rest, by Hokey! that's -what you need. Charles is liable to sell that Grand -Canyon canvas of his any time, and when he does, you'll -get a month in Catalina, that's what you will!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The wife was silently busy with her apron and her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know, Rose," John continued with forced -enthusiasm, "my admiration for Charles grows all the -time. He follows his star, that boy does!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And forgets his family—leaves it to starve!" -reproached the sister bitterly, while the sag of her cheeks -became still more noticeable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, but that's where you do Charles an injustice," -insisted John. "He knows I'm here. We have a sort -of secret understanding; that is," and he gulped a little -at going too far—"that is, we understand each other. -He knows that while he is following his ideal, I won't -see you starve. He's a genius; I'm the dub. It's a fair -partnership. His eye is always on the goal. He will get -there sure—and soon, now, too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He will never get there!" blurted out the dejected -woman, as if with a sudden disregardful loosing of her -real convictions. "For thirteen years I have hoped and -toiled and believed and waited. A good while ago I -made up my mind. He has not the vital spark. For -five years I have pleaded with him to give it up—to -surrender his ambition, to turn his undoubted talent to -account. He has had the rarest aptitude for decorating. -We might be having an income of ten thousand a year -now. Instead he pursues this will-o'-the-wisp ambition -of his. He is crazy about color, always chasing a foolish -sunset or some wonderful desert panorama of sky and -cloud and mountain—seeing colors no one else can see -but unable to put his vision upon the canvas. That's the -truth, John! I have never spoken it before. Never -hinted it before the children! Charles Langham is a -failure. He will never be anything else but a failure!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The words, concluded by the barely successful suppression -of a sob, fell on unprotesting silence. Who but -this life-worn woman had so good an opportunity to know -if they were true, so good a right to speak them if she -believed them true? John looked at his plate, Tayna and -Dick looked at each other. It required a stout heart to -break the oppressive quiet, and for the moment no one in -this group had that heart. The break came from the -outside, when some one ran swiftly up the steps and -threw open the front door. Instant sounds of collision -and confusion issued from the hall, followed immediately -by a masculine voice, thin and injured in tone, calling -excitedly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, for the love of Michael Angelo! What do you -keep stuffing the hall so full of furniture for? Won't -somebody please come and help me with these things?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The dinner table was abruptly deserted; but quick as -John and the children were, Rose was ahead of them, -and when they reached the hallway, a thin man of -medium height, with an aquiline nose, dark eyes, and long -loose hair, was helplessly in the embrace of the laughing -and crying woman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Charles, you did come home; you did come home, -didn't you?" she was crying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Charles broke in volubly. "Well, I should say I did. -What did you expect? Have I ever impressed you as a -man who would neglect his family?" After which, with -the look of one who has put his accusers in the wrong, -he rescued himself from his wife's emphatic embraces, -held her off for a moment with a look of real fondness, -and then brushed her with his lips, first on one cheek -and then upon the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dad-dee!" clamored the children in chorus. "Daddee!" Yet -it was noticeable that they did not presume -to rush upon their father, but flung their voices before -them, experimentally, as it were.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, well, </span><em class="italics">las ninas</em><span>" (las ninas being the Spanish -for children), the father exclaimed, his piercing dark -eyes upon them with delight and displeasure mingling. -"Aren't you going to give me a hug? Your mother -nearly strangles me, and you stand off eyeing me as if -I were a new species."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the open arms of invitation, both of the children -plunged unhesitatingly; but their reception was brief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Run away now, father is tired," the nervous-looking -man proclaimed presently, straightening his shoulders, -while he sniffed the atmosphere. "Dinner, eh? Gods -and goats, but I am hungry!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rose led the little procession proudly back to the table, -drawing out her husband's chair for him, hovering over -him, smoothing his hair, unfolding his napkin, and stooping -to place a fresh kiss upon his fine, high, but narrow -brow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That will do now; that will do now," he chided, with -an air of having indulged a foolishly doting woman long -enough. "For goodness' sake, Rose, give me something -to eat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His wife, still upon her feet, carried him the platter -from which the family had been served. Charles -condemned it with a glance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't there something fresh you could give me? -Something that hasn't been—pawed over?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His tone was eloquent of sensibilities outraged, and his -dark eyes, having first flashed a reproach upon his wife, -swept the circle with a look of expected comprehension -in them, as if he knew that all would understand the -delicacies of the artistic temperament.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, yes," admitted Rose, without a sign of resentment. -"I can get you something fresh if you will wait -a few minutes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She slipped out to the kitchen from which presently the -odor of broiling meat proceeded, while the artist coolly -rolled his cigarette, and, surveying without touching the -cup of coffee which John had poured for him, raised his -voice to call: "Some fresh coffee, too, Rose, please!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After this Langham leveled his eye on his brother-in-law -and asked airily, "Well, John, how's everything with -you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fine as silk, Charles," replied Hampstead. "How -is it with you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never better," declared Langham. "Never saw -such sunsets in your life as they are having up the -Monterey coast. I tell you there never were such colors. -There was one there in December,"—and he launched -into a detailed description of it, his eyes, his face, his -hands, his whole body laboring to convey the picture -which his animated spirits proclaimed was still upon the -screen of his mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the description was concluded, Rose placed a -platter before him, upon which, garnished with parsley, two -small chops appeared, delicately grilled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Abruptly ceasing conversation, Charles sank a knife -and fork into one of them and transferred a generous -morsel to his mouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks, old girl; just up to your topmost mark," he -confessed ungrudgingly, after a few moments, during -which, with half-closed eyes, he had been chewing -vigorously and with a singleness of purpose rather rare in -him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sold any pictures lately?" asked John casually.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Langham abruptly, lowering his voice, -while a look of annoyance shaded his brow. "I dropped -in at the gallery first thing, but"—and he shrugged his -shoulders—"Nothing doing! However," and he -became immediately cheerful again, "Mrs. Lawson has been -looking awfully hard at that Grand Canyon canvas. If -she buys that, my fortune's made."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And if she doesn't," observed Rose pessimistically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And if she doesn't?" her husband exclaimed with -sudden irritation. "Well—it'll be made just the same. -You see if it isn't! Oh, say!" and a light broke upon -his face so merry that it immediately dissipated every -sign of annoyance. "What do you think? I saw -Owens to-day, the fellow who auctions alleged oil -paintings at a minimum of two dollars each. You know the -scheme—pictures painted while you wait—roses, -chrysanthemums, landscapes even. Well, he offered me fifteen -dollars a day to paint pictures for him. Think of it! -To sit in the window before a gaping crowd painting -those miserable daubs, a dozen or two a day, while he -auctions them off. His impudence! If I had been as -big as you are, Jack, I would have punched him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fifteen dollars a day," commented Rose thoughtfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," laughed Langham, his little black eyes a-twinkle, -as he clipped the last morsel from the first of his -chops. "The idea!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I hope you took it," his wife suggested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rose!" exclaimed Langham, rising bolt upright at -the table and looking into her face as if she had -unwarrantably and unexpectedly hurled the blackest insult. -"Rose! An artist like me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the kind of a job for an artist like you," she -rejoined stingingly, with a sarcastic emphasis on just the -right words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, my God! My God!" exclaimed the man -sharply, turning from the table, while he threw his hands -dramatically upward and clutched at the back of his head, -after which he took a turn up and down the room as if -beside himself with unutterable emotions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John judged that this was the fitting moment for his -withdrawal, but Langham's distress of mind was not too -great for him to observe the movement and to follow. -He overtook his brother-in-law in the studio-parlor, and -his manner was coolly importunate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Say, old man!" he whispered, "could you let me -have five? I'm a little short on carfare, and you'll be -gone in the morning before I get up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sure," exclaimed John, without a moment's hesitation, -delving in the depths of the pocket from which he -had produced the money for the rent, and handing out a -five-dollar piece.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks, old chap," said Langham, seizing it eagerly -and hastening away, after an affectionate slap on the -shoulder of his bigger and as he thought baser metaled -brother-in-law. He did not, however, say that he would -repay the loan, and Hampstead did not remark that it -was the last gold coin in his pocket and that he should -have no more till pay day, ten days hence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John let his admiration for the assurance of Langham -play for a moment, and then turned to the rear of the -studio, opened a door, struck a match, and groped his -way to a naked gas jet. The sudden flare of light -revealed a lean-to room, meant originally for nobody knew -what, but turned into a bedroom. The only article of -furniture which piqued curiosity in the least was a table -against the wall, across which a long plank had been -balanced. Upon it and equilibrated as carefully as the -plank itself, was a row of books of many shapes and -sizes and in various stages of preservation. This plank -was John's library.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Stuck about upon the walls were several large photogravures, -portraying various stirring scenes in history, -mostly Roman. They were unframed and fastened -crudely to the wall with pins. Evidently this was the -living place of an untidy man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The tiny table, with its balanced over-load of books, -was directly beneath the gas. John dropped heavily into -the wooden chair before it and drew to him a number -of sheets of paper, upon which, with much labor and -many erasings, he began to fashion a sort of motto or -legend. Satisfied at length with his work, he printed the -finished legend swiftly in rude capital letters in the center -of a fresh sheet, snatched down the picture of a Christian -martyr which occupied the central space above his library, -and with the same four pins affixed his motto in that -particular spot, where it would greet him instantly upon -opening the door, and where it would be the last thing -upon which his eyes fell as he went to sleep and the first -when he awakened in the morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once it was in position, he stood off and admired it, -reading aloud:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>"ETERNAL HAMMERING IS THE PRICE OF SUCCESS!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"That's the stuff," he croaked enthusiastically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eternal hammering!" And then he paused a moment, -after which his reverie was continued aloud. "That -actor was telling me to-day about technique. He said: -'There's a right way to do everything—to pitch a -horseshoe even.' He's right. The fellow with the best -technique will knock the highest persimmon. What -makes me such a good stenographer? Technique. -What makes me such a bum office flunkey? The lack of -technique—no voice—no form—no self-confidence. -I am a young-man-afraid-of-himself—that's who I am. -Technique first and then—gravitation! That's the idea!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By gravitation, however, Hampstead did not mean -that law which keeps the heavenly bodies from getting -on the wrong side of the street, but that process, which -in his short life he had already observed, by means of -which the man in the crowd who takes advantage of his -opportunities and, by the dig of an elbow here, the insert -of a shoulder there, and the stiff thrust of a foot and leg -yonder, sooner or later arrives opposite the gateway of -his particular desires.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mere opportunism? That and a little more; a sort of -conviction that fortune herself is something of an -opportunist, that what a man wants to do, fortune, sooner -or later, will help him to do, if he only wills himself in -the direction of the want early enough and long enough -to give the fickle jade her chance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By way of proceeding immediately to hammer, Hampstead -reached for a heavy calf-bound volume, bearing -the imprint of the Los Angeles Public Library, and -settled himself to read.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Most people in the railroad office were tired when they -finished their day's work. They were done with effort. -John, however, was just ready to begin. They thought -of recreation; John thought only of hammering.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Since his scholastic education had been broken off in -the middle by economic necessities, he had formed the -plan of reading at night the entire written history of the -world, from the first cuneiform inscription down to the -last edition of the last newspaper. In pursuance of this -plan, he had already traveled far down the centuries, and -it was with eagerness that he adjusted his eye-shade -to-night, because when he lifted the cover of his book he -knew that he would swing open the doors on one of the -greatest centuries in human history, the century in which -the world discovered the individual. Hampstead was -himself an individual. This was in some sense the story -of his own discovery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When John had been reading for perhaps half an hour, -there came a bird-like tap at his door, accompanied by a -suppressed giggle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who comes there?" called the student in sepulchral -tones, stabbing the page at a particular spot with his -thumb, while his eyes were lifted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The only audible sound was another giggle, but the -door swung open mysteriously, revealing two small, -white-robed figures silhouetted against the shadows in the -studio.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Enter, ghosts!" John commanded, in the same -sepulchral voice, while his eyes fell again upon his pages. -The ghosts chortled and advanced, but with great -circumspection, to the little table with its dangerously -balanced bookshelf, its miscellaneous litter of papers, and its -silent, absorbed student.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tayna, her long burnished curls cascading over the -white of her nightgown, and her eyes shining softly, -ducked her head and arose under one arm of her uncle, -where presently she felt herself drawn close with an -affectionate, satisfying sort of squeeze. The boy, -approaching from the other side, laid an arm upon the -shoulder of the man, and stood watching with fascination -the eyes of his uncle in their steady sweep from side to -side of the printed page.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Uncle John," asked Tayna shyly, burying her face -in his neck as she put the question, "when will you be -President?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When </span><em class="italics">shall</em><span> you be President?" corrected the boy, -looking across at his sister with that same old-mannish -expression which was a part of all he said and did.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead cuddled the girl closer, and his eye abandoned -the page to look down the bridge of his nose into -distance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why?" he asked presently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, because," said Tayna, with a little shiver of -eagerness, "I can hardly wait."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead's eyes wandered to his motto on the wall. -The eyes of the boy followed and spelled out the letters -wonderingly, but in silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must be able to wait," said John, squeezing -Tayna again. "It's a long, long way; but if we just -keep on keeping on, why, after a while we are there, you -know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tayna sighed and reached up a round, plump arm till -it encircled Hampstead's neck, as she asked, still more -shyly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And when you are President, every one will know -just how good and great you are, and they won't call you -awkward nor—nor homely any more, will they?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A flush and a chuckle marked John's reception of this -query, after which he observed hastily and a bit -apprehensively:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Say, you wet little goldfishes! Remember that you -are never, never, now or any time, howsoever odd I bear -myself, to breathe a word to anybody, not to a single -soul, not to your mamma or your papa or your Sunday-school -teacher or anybody, of all these nice little play -secrets which we have between ourselves."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An instant seriousness came over the children's faces.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cross my heart," murmured Tayna, with a twitch -of her slender finger across her breast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And hope to die," added Dick, with a funeral solemnity, -as he completed Tayna's cross by a vertical movement -of a stubby thumb in the direction of his own -wishbone of a breast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead looked relieved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," affirmed Tayna stoutly, "they are not play -secrets. They are real secrets. Aren't they?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John looked up at his motto again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he said in a low, determined voice. "They -are real secrets."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And," half-declared, half-questioned Dick, "if you -aren't President, you are going to be some other kind of -a very great man?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aren't you?" the boy persisted, when Hampstead -was silent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell you to-morrow," laughed John. "Good night, -ghosts!" and with a swift assault of his lips upon the -cheeks of either, he gently impelled them toward the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good night, your Excellency!" giggled Tayna.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good night, my counselors," responded Hampstead, -reaching for his book.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An hour later Hampstead was still reading. Another -hour later he was still reading. But something like a -quarter of an hour beyond that, when it might have been, -say, near half-past eleven, he was not reading. He was -turning his head strangely from side to side and digging -a knuckle into his eyes. A surprising thing had -happened. He could no longer see the lines upon the -page—nor the page itself—nor the book—nor anything!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His first impression was that the gas had gone out; but -this swiftly gave way to the conviction that he had gone -blind—stone blind!—and so suddenly that it happened -right between the beheading of one of the queens of -Henry the Eighth and the marrying of another. He was -now tardily conscious that for some time his eyes had -been giving him pain, that he had rubbed them -periodically to clear away white opacities that appeared upon the -page; but now there was no pain; they were suffused -with moisture, and the room was dark.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After an interval he could make out the gaslight glowing -feebly like the tiny glare of a candle visible in some -distant pit of darkness, but he could discern no shapes -about the room. Not one!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A horrible fear stole into his breast and chilled it. -All of him had suddenly come to naught, and just as he -was getting started. He turned futile, streaming orbs -up to where his new-made motto should loom upon the -wall. It was there, of course, mocking at him now; but -he could not see it. He could not see the wall even. -For fully five minutes he sat in darkness, his hands -clasped above his bowed head. Then he arose and -groped his way along the wall to the door and opened it, -and stood facing out into the grotesque dark of the -studio. He thought of trying to grope his way across -it—of calling out—but decided to wait a few minutes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He felt stricken, broken, overwhelmed. His life, his -career, himself were ruined. He required time to get -used to the sensation, time to adjust his mind to the -extent of the calamity and to gather some elements of -fortitude wherewith to face the world. Not even Rose must -see him broken and shattered as he felt right now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Turning back, he closed the door, felt his way to the -gas, and turned it off. He had no need of gas now. -Then he lay down, fully clothed, upon the bed, with a -cold cloth upon his eyes, thinking flightily and feeling -very sorry for himself.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="when-the-dark-went-away"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER III</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">WHEN THE DARK WENT AWAY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<pre class="literal-block"> -<span>+--------------------------------+ -| 513 | -| General Freight Department | -| CALIFORNIA CONSOLIDATED | -| RAILWAY COMPANY | -| ROBERT MITCHELL, | -| General Freight Agent. | -| Walk in! | -+--------------------------------+</span> -</pre> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>This was the sign on the door that John Hampstead -had opened every morning for seven years. This morning -he did not open it, and there was something like -consternation when as late as nine-thirty the chair of the big, -amiable, stenographic drudge was still vacant. Old Heitmuller, -the chief clerk, after swearing his way helplessly -from one point of the compass to another, was about to -dispatch the office boy to Hampstead's residence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Inside, and unaware of all this pother, sat the General -Freight Agent. Big of body, with the topography of -his father's heath upon his wide face, soft in the heart -and hard in the head, Robert Mitchell was a man of no -airs. His origin was probably shanty Irish, and he didn't -care who suspected it. By painful labor, a ready smile, -a hearty laugh, a square deal to his company and as square -a deal to the public as he could give—"consistently"—he -had got to his present modest eminence. He was -going higher and was not particular who suspected that -either; but was not boastful, had the respect of all men -who knew him well, and the affection of those who knew -him intimately.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He sat just now in a thoroughly characteristic pose, -with the stubby fingers of one fat hand thoughtfully -teasing a wisp of reddish brown hair, while his shrewd -blue eyes were screwing at the exact significance of the -top letter on a pile before him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Over in a corner was Mitchell's guest and vast superior, -Malden H. Hale, the president of the twelve thousand -miles of shining steel which made up the Great South-western -Railway System, in which Mitchell's little road -nestled like a rabbit in the maw of a python. Mr. Hale -was signing some letters dictated yesterday to John, -finding them paragraphed and punctuated to his complete -satisfaction, with here and there a word better than his -own looming up in the context. For a time there was no -sound save the scratching of his pen and the fillip of the -sheets as he turned them over. Then he chuckled softly, -and presently spoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bob," he said, "that's an odd genius, that stenographer -out there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," replied Mr. Mitchell absently, without looking -up from his work, and then suddenly he stabbed the -atmosphere with a significant rising inflection: "Genius?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, yes," affirmed Mr. Hale. "Genius! He impresses -you first as absurdly incompetent, but his workmanship -is really superior, and later you get a suggestion -of something back of him, something buried that -might come out, you know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I used to think so," the General Freight Agent -replied, with a tone which indicated loss of interest in the -subject, but being tardily overtaken in his reading by a -sense that he had not quite done justice to the big -stenographer, he broke the silence to add: "He is a fine -character. He has very high thoughts,"—vacancy was in -his eye for a moment,—"so high they're cloudy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And that was all. Mr. Hale made no further comment. -Mr. Mitchell, a just man, was satisfied that he -had done justice. Thus in the minds of two arbiters -of the destinies of many men, John Hampstead, loyal, -laborious, who had served faithfully for seven years, was -lifted for a moment until the sun of prospect flashed upon -him,—lifted and then dropped. And they did not even -know that nature, too, had dropped him,—that he was -blind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But just then a privileged person knocked and entered -without waiting for an invitation. The newcomer was -Doctor Gallagher, the "Company" oculist, his fine, dark -eyes aglow with sympathy and importance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That boy Hampstead," he began abruptly, "is in bad -shape."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hampstead!" ejaculated Mr. Mitchell antagonistically, -as if it were impossible that lumbering mass of bone -and muscle could ever be in bad shape.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," affirmed the physician, with the air of one who -announces a sensation, "he's likely to go blind!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No!" ejaculated Mr. Mitchell, in still more emphatic -tones of disbelief, though his blue eyes opened wide and -grew round with shock and sympathetic apprehension.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," explained Doctor Gallagher volubly. "Continual -transcription, the sweep of the eye from the notebook -page to the machine and back, year in and year out, -for so long, has broken down the muscular system of -the eye. He had a blind spell last night. He can see -all right this morning. But to let him go to work would -be criminal. I have him in the Company Hospital for -two weeks of absolute rest, and then he will be all right. -But the typewriter, never again! You can put him on -the outside to solicit freight, or something like that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A broad grin overspread the features of the General -Freight Agent. "You don't know John," he said. -"That boy would die of nervousness the first day out. -He's afraid of people. Besides," went on Mitchell, "we -couldn't get along without him. He knows too much -that nobody else knows."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, anyway, never again the typewriter!" -commanded the doctor from the door, getting out quickly -and hurrying away with the consciousness of duty -extremely well performed. He knew that he had exaggerated -the extent of John's eye-trouble; but he believed that -it was necessary to exaggerate it, both to Hampstead and -to Mr. Mitchell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In his darkened room at the hospital, John was feeling -somehow suddenly honored of destiny. People were -thinking, talking, caring about him. There was -exaltation just in that. But also he was fuming. He wasn't -ill. He was simply confined. He could not read. He -could not write. He could do nothing but sit in a -darkened room according to prescription, and wait. But on -the third day Doctor Gallagher said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As soon as it is dusk, you may go out for a swift -walk. That's to get exercise. Keep off the main -streets; keep away from bright lights, do not try to read -signs, to recognize people, or in fact to look at anything -closely."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John leaped eagerly at this permission, but there was -design in his devotion to the new prescription of which -the doctor knew nothing. On the fifth day of his -confinement, Tayna and Dick, who had been coming every -afternoon to sit for an hour in the semi-darkness with -their uncle, surprised the interned one doing odd -contortions in the depths of his room: twisting his wrists; -standing on one foot like a stork and twirling his great -heel and toe from the knee in some eccentric imitation of -a ballet dancer; then creeping to and fro across the room -in a silly series of bowings and scrapings and salutings -that threw Dick into irrepressible laughter. Caught -shamefacedly in the very midst of these absurdities, -John confessed to the two of them what he would at the -moment have confessed to no other living being—last -of all to Bessie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am taking lessons," he said, "from an actor. He -is going to make me easy and graceful, so people won't -call me awkward any more—nor homely," and he looked -significantly at Tayna.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh," the children both gasped respectfully, and -repeated with a kind of awe in their voices: "From an -actor!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. Every evening the doctor lets me go for a walk. -On every other one of these walks I go to the actor's -hotel, and he teaches me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Awh! An actor-r-r!" breathed Dick again, his -features depicting profoundness both of impression and -speculation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Say!" he proposed presently. "I would rather you -would be an actor than a president, anyway."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John laughed. "I am not going to be an actor," he -said, "I am only going to be polished till I shine like a -human diamond." And then he devoted himself to the -entertainment of his callers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Remember! Never again the typewriter!" the -physician adjured sternly, when the fortnight of John's -captivity was done. For although conveying this -verdict immediately to Mitchell, the doctor had postponed -its announcement to his patient till his discharge from the -hospital. John was stunned. The typewriter was his -bread. At first he rebelled, but with a rush like the swirl -of waters over his head, the memory of that night when -he was blind for an hour came to him and humbled him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With the trembling courage of a coward, he opened -the door of room 513; saw with sickening heart the -strange face at his desk, shook the flabby hand of -Heitmuller, and inwardly braced himself to enter for the last -time between the double doors, where presently he -confessed his plight as if it had been a crime.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't imagine we would let you go, do you?" -Mr. Mitchell asked, while an expression of amazement -grew upon his face till it became a laugh. "Why, -Jack"—Mr. Mitchell had never called him Jack before—"we -should have to pay you a salary just to stick around and -keep the rest of us straight."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The stenographer gulped. It was not the first note of -praise he had ever received from this kindly railroad -man, but it was the first time Mr. Mitchell or any one -else in that whole office had ever acknowledged to John -that he was valuable for what he knew as well as for -what he beat out of his finger-tips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are going to be my private secretary," explained -Mr. Mitchell, still chuckling at the simplicity of John. -"I have few letters to write, and you know enough to do -most of them without dictation. You keep me reminded -of things; handle my telephone calls and appointments. -Gallagher says your eyes will probably give you no trouble -whatever under these conditions. The salary will be -fifteen dollars more a month."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The big awkward man was too confusedly grateful -and overwhelmed even to attempt to murmur his thanks. -Instead, he did a thing of unheard-of boldness. He -reached over and touched the General Freight Agent on -the arm,—just stabbed him in the upper, fleshy part of -the arm with a thrust of his stiff fingers, accompanying -the act with a monosyllabic croak. It was a clumsy -touch, and it was presuming; but to a man of understanding, -it was eloquent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After one month in this new position, John found -himself seeing the transportation business through new -glasses. He had passed from details to principles, and -the change stimulated his mind enormously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One of his new duties now was to sit at the General -Freight Agent's elbow in conferences, and later to make -summaries of the arguments pro and con. In transcribing -Mr. Mitchell's part of these talks, it interested John -to elaborate a little. Soon he ventured to make the -General Freight Agent's points stronger when he felt it -could be done, and then waited, after laying the transcript -on the big man's desk, for some word of reproof. Reproof -did not come, and yet John thought the changes -must be noticed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But one day H. B. Anderson, Assistant General Freight -Agent of the San Francisco and El Paso, a rival line, -was in the office.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mitchell," Anderson began, "I am compelled to admit -your argument reads a blamed sight stronger than -it sounded to me the other day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this the General Freight Agent laughed complacently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The point about the demurrage especially," went on -Anderson. "I didn't remember that somehow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Um," said the General Freight Agent in a puzzled -way and picked up the transcript of the argument. As he -scanned it, his face grew more puzzled; then light broke. -"Yes," he replied emphatically, "that's the strongest -point, in my judgment."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," confessed Anderson, "it knocks me out. I -am now agreeable to your construction."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The private secretary listened from his little cubby-hole -with mingled exultation and apprehension. When the -visitor had gone, the General Freight Agent walked in -and tossed the transcript upon the secretary's table. John -looked up timidly. The Mitchell brow was ridged and -thoughtful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hampstead," he declared with an air of grave -reluctance, "I guess I'll have to lose you, after all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What, sir," gasped John, guilty terror shaking him -somewhere inside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the change in John's face, Mitchell threw back his -head and laughed; one of those huge, hearty, bellowing -laughs at his own humor, from which he extracted so -much enjoyment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he specified, "I am going to put you in the rate -department. You have the making of a great railroad -man in you. What you need now is the fundamentals. -That's where you get 'em. Your brains are coming out, -John. I always thought you had 'em,—but it certainly -took you a long time to get any of them into the show -window."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was seven years before you let me get to the window -at all," suggested John, meaning to be a little bit -vengeful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nobody's fault but yours, my boy," said the -G.F.A. brusquely, over his shoulder. "By the way," he -remarked, turning back again, "you aren't afraid of people -any more, either."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John flushed with pleasure. This was really the most -desirable compliment Mitchell could bestow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I am getting a little more confidence in -myself," the big man confessed, glowing modestly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was what three months of Kenton and "old -Delsarte", as the actor called the great French apostle -of intelligible anatomy, had done for John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Kenton and "old Delsarte" were doing something -else to John that was vastly more serious, but of which -Robert Mitchell received no hint until nearly a year -later, when the knowledge came to him suddenly with a -shock that jarred and almost disconcerted him. It was -somewhere about noon of a day in February, and he had -just touched the button for John Hampstead, rate clerk. -Instead of John, Heitmuller answered the summons, -laughing softly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now in the rate department John had made an amazing -success. In six months gray-headed clerks were -seeking his opinions earnestly. At the present moment -he was in charge of all rates west of Ogden, Albuquerque, -and El Paso, and half the department took orders from -him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John's away at rehearsal," explained Heitmuller, still -chuckling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At rehearsal?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes,—he's going to play Ursus, the giant, in </span><em class="italics">Quo -Vadis</em><span>, with Mowrey's Stock Company at the Burbank -next week."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The hell!" ejaculated the General Freight Agent, -while a look of blank astonishment came upon his usually -placid features. "When did that bug bite him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't tell yet whether it's a bite or only an itch," -grinned Heitmuller. "For a while he was reciting at -smokers and parties and things, and then I heard he was -teaching elocution at home nights. Now he's got a small -dramatic company and goes out around giving one-act -plays and scenes from Shakespeare. Pretty good, too, -they say!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I be damned," Mitchell commented, when -Heitmuller had finished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's only away from eleven-thirty to one-thirty," -explained Heitmuller. "He was so anxious and does so -much more work than any two men that I couldn't refuse -him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course not," assented Mitchell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Besides," added the chief clerk, "he might have gone, -anyway. John's getting a little headstrong, I've noticed, -since he's coming out so fast."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Naturally," observed Mitchell drily, after which he -dismissed Heitmuller and appeared to dismiss the subject -by turning again to his desk.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="advent-and-adventure"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">ADVENT AND ADVENTURE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>But the General Freight Agent took care that -Mrs. Mitchell, Bessie, and himself were in a box at the -Burbank on the following Monday night, when the curtain -went up on the Mowrey Stock Company's sumptuous -production of </span><em class="italics">Quo Vadis</em><span>, which for more than nine days -was the talk of the town in the city of angels, oranges, -atmosphere, and oil. The Mitchells strained their eyes -for a sight of their late-grown protégé, but it appeared he -was not "on." However, in the midst of a garden scene -with Roman lords, ladies, soldiers in armor and slaves -decking the view, there appeared a huge barbarian, long -of hair and beard, his torso bound round with an immense -bearskin, his sandals tied with thongs, his sinewy limbs -apparently unclad, savage bands of silver upon his massy, -muscled arms, the alpine ruggedness of his countenance -and the light of a fanatical devotion that gleamed in his -eye contributing in their every detail to make the -creature appear the thing the programme proclaimed him, -"Ursus, a Christian Slave."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the programme claimed something more: that this -Ursus was John Hampstead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mitchell gaped and then rocked uneasily. The thing -was unbelievable. If the man would only speak, -perhaps some tone of voice—but the man did not speak, not -even move. He stood half in the background, far up the -center of the stage, while the talk and action of the piece -went on beneath his lofty brow, like some mountain -towering above a lakelet in which ripples sparkle and fish -are leaping. At length, however, stage attention does -center on Ursus, when the man enacting St. Peter, struck -by the nature-man's appearance of gigantic strength, -observes:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thou art strong, my son?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The rugged human statue moved. In a voice that was -low at first but broke quickly into reverberating tones -which filled the theater to the rafters, the answer came:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Holy Father! I can break iron like wood!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the speech was delivered, the eye of Ursus gleamed, -the folded arms unbent, and one mighty muscle flexed -the forearm through a short but significant arc, after -which the figure resumed its pose of respectful but -impressive immobility.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In that single speech and gesture Hampstead had -achieved a personal success and keyed the play as plausible, -for by it he had come to birth before a theater-full -as a character equal to the prodigious feats of strength -upon which the action turned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go to the stable, Ursus!" commanded an authoritative -voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The huge head of the hairy man, with its crown of -long, wild locks was inclined humbly, and with an odd, -rolling stride suggestive of enormous animal-like -strength, he swung deliberately across the scene and out -of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Robert Mitchell, staring fixedly, suddenly nodded his -head with satisfaction. At last, in that careening walk, -he had seen something that he recognized. That was -the walk of Hampstead; but now Mitchell recalled it -was long since he had seen that gait, long since he had -heard the office door reverberate from a bang of one of -those hip joints, long since the big man had made any -conspicuous exhibition of the physical awkwardness that -once had been so characteristic. And now? Why now -John was an actor. Not Nero yonder, harp in hand, -looked more nearly like his part. Hampstead had put on -the pose, the voice, the walk, as he had put on the -bearskin and the beard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't he w-o-n-d-e-r-f-u-l?" breathed Bessie, with a -little squeeze of her father's arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mitchell laughed amiably and reached out for the -curling lock upon his brow which was his mainstay in -time of mental shipwreck and began to twist it, while -he waited impatiently to see more of Ursus.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the play appeared to have forgotten Ursus. A -great party was on in the palace of Cæsar. The stage -was alive with lights and music, and with the movements -of many people—senators in togas, generals in armor, -women with jewels in their hair and golden bands upon -their white, gracefully swelling arms. There was -drinking and laughter and high carousal. In right center, -Cæsar upon his throne was singing and pretending to -strike notes from a harp of pasteboard and gilt, notes -which in reality proceeded from the orchestra pit. At -lower left upon a couch sat Lygia, the Christian maiden, -beautiful beyond imagining and being greatly annoyed -by the love-makings of the half-intoxicated Roman -soldier, Vinicius, who had laid aside his helmet and his -sword, and was pleading with the lovely but embarrassed -girl, at first upon his knees, then standing, with one knee -upon the couch, while he trailed his fingers luxuriously -through the glossy blackness of her hair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the love-making proceeded, Lygia's apprehension -grew. When Vinicius pressed her tresses to his lips, she -shrank from him. When, after another cup of wine and -just as the whole court was in raptures over the -conclusion of Cæsar's song, Vinicius attempted to place his -kisses yet more daringly, Lygia started up with a cry of -terror. Instantly there sounded from the wings a -bellowing roar of rage, and like a flying fury, the wild, -hairy figure of Ursus came bounding upon the scene.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seizing Vinicius by the shoulders, Ursus shook him -till all his harness rattled, then hurled him up stage and -crashing to the floor. Lygia was swaying dizzily as if -about to faint, but with another leap Ursus had gained -her side and swung her into his arms, after which he -turned and went hurdling across the stage, running in -long, springing strides as lightly as a deer, the fair, -delicious form of the girl balanced buoyantly on his arms, -while her dark hair streamed out and downward over his -shoulder—all of this to the complete consternation of the -half-drunken Court of Cæsar and the vast and tumultuously -expressed delight of the audience, which kept the -curtain frisking up and down repeatedly over this -climactic conclusion of the second act, while the principals -posed and bowed and posed again and bowed again, to -the audience, to themselves, and to the scenery. Robert -Mitchell even supposed that Ursus was bowing to him, -so being naturally polite and somewhat beside himself, -the General Freight Agent was on the point of bowing -back again when Bessie screamed:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! Oh! He bowed directly at me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time, however, the curtain had recovered from -its frenzy and stayed soberly down while the lights came -up so the people could read the advertisements on the -front. Immediately the tongues of the audience were all -a-buzz, and industriously passing up and down the lines -of the seats was the information that John Hampstead -was a local character. "Oh, yes, indeed,—instructor in -public speaking at the Young Men's Christian Association."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In due course, this piece of interesting information -reached the Mitchells in their box.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I knew it all along," gurgled Bessie proudly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I begin to be jealous," announced Mrs. Mitchell, -broad of face, expansive of heart, aggressive of disposition. -"I want all these people to know that Ursus is our -rate clerk."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I want them to know," said Mr. Mitchell, by -way of venting his disapproval, "that he is spoiling a -mighty good rate clerk to make a mighty poor actor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," pouted the loyal Bessie, "he is not a poor actor. -He's a w-o-n-d-e-r-f-u-l actor! You are spoiling the plain -truth to make a poor epigram. You," and she looked -up pertly at her father, "you are just a bunch of sour -grapes! You kept my poor Jack's nose on the grindstone -so long that he broke out in a new place, and now -you are afraid you'll lose him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your poor Jack!" sneered Mrs. Mitchell merrily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes—mine!" answered Bessie stoutly. "I always -told you Jack Hampstead was a great man in disguise. -I saw him first—before he saw himself, almost. I'm -going to be his friend for always and for always. Oh, -look there!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The curtain had gone up on an odd, out-of-the-way -corner of the imperial city. There had been some -colloquy over the gate of a small close, participated in by -the vibrant voice of an unseen Ursus and the calmer one -of a visible St. Peter, after which the gate opened and -Ursus entered, bearing the still fainting form of Lygia -in his arms; giving, of course, the desired impression that -this fair figure of a woman had been nestling on his great -bosom ever since the curtain went down some twelve -minutes before, an inference that led some of the clerks -in the General Freight Office and other persons scattered -through the audience, to envy John. This presumption, -however, was some distance from the truth. As a matter -of fact, Lygia had but recently resumed her position in -the arms of Ursus, while two stage hands, lying prone, -had plucked open the gate; and various happenings quite -unsuspected of the audience had intervened, at least one -of which had been a severe shock to the Puritan nature -of John Hampstead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, there was the dramatic impression already -referred to, and it ate its way like acid into the -consciousness of at least one person in the playhouse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ursus, after looking about him for a moment in the -little yard of the Christian's house to make sure he was -entirely surrounded by friends, drew his fair burden -closer and, as if by a protective instinct, bent over it -with a look of tenderness so long and concentrated that -his flaxen beard toyed with the white cheek, and his flaxen -locks gleamed for a moment amid the raven ones.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," commented Bessie, in a tone that mingled -sharp annoyance with that judicially critical note which -is the right of all high-school girls in their last year, "I -do not see any dramatic necessity for prolonging this. -Why doesn't he stick her face under the fountain there -for a moment and then lay her on the grass?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mercifully, Bessie was not compelled to contain her -annoyance too long. Ursus did eventually relinquish his -hold upon the lady, and the piece moved on from scene -to scene to the final holocaust of Rome.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With the news instinct breaking out above the critical, -the dramatic columns of the morning papers gave the -major stickful of type to the performance of that -histrionic athlete, John Hampstead, forgetting to mention -his connection with the Y.M.C.A., but making clear -that in daylight he was a highly respected member of the -staff of Robert Mitchell, the well-known railroad man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But to John, the process of conversion from rate clerk -to actor had been even more exciting than the -demonstration of the fact proved to his friends.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To begin with, it was an experience quite unforgettable -to the chairman of the Prayer Meeting Committee of the -Christian Endeavor Society of the grand old First Church -when for the first time he found himself upon the stage -of the Burbank at rehearsal time, with twenty-five or -thirty real actors and actresses about him. He looked -them over curiously, with a puritanic instinct for moral -appraisal, as they stood, lounged, sat, gossiped, smoked, -laughed or did several of these things at once; yet all -keeping a wary eye and ear for the two men who sat at -the little table in the center of the bare, empty stage with -their heads together over a manuscript.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just about like other people," confessed Hampstead -to himself, with something of disappointment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were some tailor suited women, there were some -smartly dressed young men, there were some very nice -girls, not more than a whit different in look and manner -from the typists in the general office. There were two -or three gray-haired men who, so far as appearance and -demeanor went, might have served as deacons of the First -Church. There were a couple of dignified, matronly-looking -elderly ladies with fancy-work or mending in -their laps, as they swayed to and fro in the wicker rockers -that were a part of the furnishings for Act II of the -play then running. These two ladies, so far as John -could see, might have been respectively President of the -Ladies' Aid and of the Woman's Missionary Society, -instead of what they were, "character old women," as he -later learned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Totaling his impressions, Mowrey's Stock Company -seemed like a large exclusive family in which he was -suffered but not seen. Nobody introduced him to -anybody. Mowrey merely threw him a glance, and that was -not of recognition but of observation that he was present.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"First act!" snapped the manager, with a voice as -sharp as the clatter of the ruler with which he rapped upon -the table. Stepping forward, prompt book in one hand, -ruler in the other for a pointer, he began to outline the -scene upon the bare stage:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This chair is a tree—that stage brace is a bench—this -box is a rock," and so forth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The rehearsal had begun. It moved swiftly, for -Mowrey was a man with snap to him. His words were -quick, nervous, few—until angry. His glance was -imperative. It was all business, hot, relentless pressure of -human beings into moulds, like hammering damp sand -in a foundry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go there! Stand here! Laugh! Weep! Look -pleased! Feign intoxication!" Each short word was -a blow of Mowrey's upon the wet human sand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John's name was never mentioned. Mowrey called -him by the name of his part, Ursus. Ursus was "on" in -the first act, but with nothing to do, and his eyes were -wide with watching. One woman in particular attracted -him. She was tall and shapely, clad in a close-fitting -tailored suit, with hat and veil that seemed to match both -her garments and herself. She moved through her part -with a kind of distinguished nonchalance, her veil half -raised, and a vagrant fold of it flicking daringly at a rosy -spot on her cheek when she turned suddenly; while in -her gloved hands she held a short pencil with which, from -time to time, additional stage directions were noted upon -the pages of her part. This accomplished and really -beautiful young actress was Miss Marien Dounay, one of -the two leading women of the company.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead was inexperienced of women. He confessed -it now to himself. But this was to be the day of -his opportunity, and he felt the blood of adventure leaping -in his veins. In his consciousness, too, floated little -arrows like indicators, and as if by common agreement, -they pointed their heads toward Miss Dounay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If it were she now who played Lygia? Yes; it was -she. They were calling her Lygia. Hampstead smiled -to himself. Presently he chuckled softly, and the -chuckle appeared to loose a small avalanche of new-born -emotions that leaped and jumbled somewhere inside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the first encounter was disappointing. Miss -Dounay seized him by the arm, without a glance,—her -eyes being fixed on Mowrey,—and led the big man out -of the scene exactly as if he had been a wooden Indian -on rollers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now," she said, "you have just carried me off." Her -voice had wonderful tones in it, tones that started -more avalanches inside; but she appeared as unconscious -of the tones and their effect as of him. She was making -another note in her part.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Better practice that 'carry off stage' before we try -it at rehearsal," called the sharp voice of Mowrey. His -eyes and his remark were addressed to Miss Dounay. -Miss Dounay nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall we?" she said, and looked straight at Hampstead, -giving him his first glance into self-confident eyes -which were clear, brownish-black, with liquescent, -unsounded depths. In form it was a question she had -asked; in effect it was a command from a very cool and -business-like young person.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I presume we had better," said John, affecting a foolish -little laugh, which did not, however, get very far -because the earnest air of Miss Dounay was inhospitable to -levity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See here!" she instructed. "I throw up my arms in -a faint. My left arm falls across your right shoulder. -At the same time I give a little spring with my right leg, -and I throw up my left leg like this. At the same instant -you throw your right arm under my shoulders, your left -arm gathers my legs; I will hold 'em stiff. There!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Dounay's arm was on John's shoulder, and she -was preparing to suit the rest; of her action to her words. -"Without any effort to lift me," she continued, talking -now into his ear, "I will be extended in your arms. All -you have to do is to be taking your running stride as I -come to you, and after that to hold me poised while you -bound off the stage. Can you do it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With this crisp, challenging question on her lips, Miss -Dounay completed the proposed manoeuvre of her lower -limbs, and John found himself with the long, exquisitely -moulded body of a beautiful woman balancing in his arms, -while a foolish quiver passed over him and shook him till -he actually trembled.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 83%" id="figure-38"> -<span id="a-foolish-quiver-passed-over-him-and-shook-him-till-he-actually-trembled"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="A foolish quiver passed over him and shook him till he actually trembled." src="images/img-046.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">A foolish quiver passed over him and shook him till he actually trembled.</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Am I so heavy?" asked a matter-of-fact voice from -his shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are not heavy at all," replied Hampstead, hotly -provoked at himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Run, then," she commanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The resultant effort was a few staggering, ungraceful -steps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dounay weighs a hundred and fifty if she weighs an -ounce," said a passing voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, all chagrin as he deposited the lady upon her -feet, saw her lip curl, and her dark eyes flash scornfully -at the leading juvenile man who, with grimacing intent -to tease, had made the remark to the ingenue as both -passed near.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Insolence!" hissed Miss Dounay after the scoffer, -and turned again to Hampstead, speaking sharply. -"Very bad! You must be in your running stride when -my weight falls on you. We must practice."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And practice they did, at every spare moment of the -rehearsal during the entire week. From these -"practices", Hampstead learned an unusual number of things -about women which, in his limited experience, he had -either not known or which had not been brought home to -him before. Some of these he presumed applied -generally to all women; others, he had no doubt, were -particular to Miss Dounay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As, for instance, when he looked down at her face -where it lay in the curve of his arm, he saw that the oval -outline of her cheeks was startlingly perfect; that there -were pools of liquid fire in her eyes; that her lips were -beautifully and naturally red; that they were long, pliable, -sensitive, with fleeting curves that raced like ripples upon -these shores of velvet and ruby, expressing as they ran an -infinite variety of passing moods. The chin, too, came in -for a great deal of this attention. It was round and -smooth at the corners, with a delicately chiseled vertical -cleft in it, which at times ran up and met a horizontal cleft -that appeared beneath the lower lip, when any slight -breath of displeasure brought a pout to that ruby, pendant -lobe. This meeting-place of the two clefts formed a kind -of transitory dimple, a trysting-place of all sorts of -fugitive attractions which exercised a singular fascination for -the big man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He used to wonder what the sensation would be like -to sink his lips in that precious, delectable valley. It -would have been physically simple. A slight lifting of -his right arm and shoulder, a slight declension of his -neck, and the mere instinctive planting of his lips, and -the thing was done. However, John had no thought -of doing this. In the first place he wouldn't—without -permission; for he was a man of honor and of self-control. -In the second place, he wouldn't because a woman -was a thing very sacred to him, and a kiss, a deliberate -and flesh-tingling kiss, was a caress to be held as sacred -as the woman herself and for the expression of an -emotion he had not yet felt for any woman; a statement which -to the half-cynical might prove again that John Hampstead -was a very inexperienced and very monk-minded -youth indeed to be abroad in the unromanticism of this -twentieth century. Yet the fact remains that Hampstead -did not consciously conspire to violate the neutrality of -this tiny, alluring haunt of tantalizing beauty which lurked -bewitchingly between the red lower lip and the white firm -chin of Miss Marien Dounay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But there were other things that John was learning -swiftly, some of which amounted to positive disillusionment. -One was that a woman's body is not necessarily -so sacred nor so inviolate, after all. That instead of -inviolate, it may be made inviolable by a sort of desexing -at will. Miss Dounay could do this and did do it, so -that for instance when her form stiffened in his arms, it -was no more like what he supposed the touch of a -woman's body should be than a post. In the first place -the body itself, beneath that trim, tailored suit, appeared -to be sheathed in steel from the shoulder almost to the -knee. John had supposed that corsets were to confine the -waist. This one, if that were what it was and not some -sort of armor put on for these rehearsals, encased the -whole body.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Another thing that contributed to this desexing of the -female person was Miss Dounay's bearing toward -himself. He might have been a mere mechanical device for -any regard she showed him at rehearsals. She pushed -or pulled him about, commanded the bend and adjustment -of his arms as if he had been an artificial man, and -never by any hint indicated that she thought of him as a -person, least of all as a male person. Undoubtedly this -robbed his new adventure of some of its spice. But a -change came. When for five days John was undecided -whether he should admire this manner of hers as supreme -artistic abstraction or resent it as supercilious disdain, -Margaret O'Neil, one of the character old ladies who had -constituted herself a combination of critic and chaperone -of these "carry" practices, turned, after a word with -Miss Dounay, and said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We should like to know who it is that is carrying us -about."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, certainly," exclaimed John, all his doubt -disappearing in a toothful smile as he swept off his hat. -"My name is Hampstead, John Hampstead."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Dounay, allow me to present Mr. Hampstead," -said Miss O'Neil, without the moulting of an eyelash.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Dounay extended her hand cordially for a lofty, -English handshake, accompanied by an agreeable smile -and a chuckling laugh, understood by John to be in -recognition of the oddness of the situation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After this, things were somewhat different. There -was less sense of strain on his part, and he began to -realize that there had been some strain upon hers which -now was relaxed. Her body was less post-like; and -toward the end of rehearsal, when possibly she was a little -tired, it lay in his arms quite placidly, relaxing until its -curves yielded and conformed to the muscular lines of -his own torso.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet Miss Dounay never betrayed the slightest -self-consciousness at such moments. Whatever the woman -as woman might be, she was, as an actress, so absolutely -devoted to the creation of the character she was rehearsing, -so painstakingly careful to reproduce in every detail -of tone and action the true impression of a pure-minded, -Christian maiden that Hampstead, with his firm religious -backgrounding, unhesitatingly imputed to the woman -herself all the virtues of the chaste and incomparable Lygia.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When dress-rehearsal time came at midnight on -Sunday, just after the regular performance had been -concluded, and John saw Miss Dounay for the first time in the -dress of the character, his soul was enraptured. The -simple folds of her Grecian robe were furled at the waist -and then swept downward in one billowy leap, unrelieved -in their impressive whiteness by any touch of color, save -that afforded by the jet-bright eyes with their assumed -worshipful look and the wide, flowing stream of her dark, -luxuriant hair, which, loosely bound at the neck, waved -downward to her hips. The devout curve of her -alabaster neck, the gleaming shoulders, the full, tapering, -ivory arms, her sandaled bare feet—yes, John looked -close to make sure, and they were actually -bare—rounded out the picture.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marien Dounay stood forth more like an angel vision -than a woman, at once so beautiful and so adorable that -big, sincere, open-eyed John Hampstead worshipped her -where she stood—worshipped her and loved her—as a -man should love an angel. Yet as he looked, he was -almost guiltily conscious that he knew a secret about this -angelic vision,—that this chiseled flesh with rounded, -shapely contours that would be the despair of any sculptor -was not as marble-like as it looked, was, indeed, soft -to the touch and warm, radiant and magnetic.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And John, blissfully aglow with his spiritual ardor, had -no faint suspicion that his secret might kill his illusion -dead, nor that his devotion would survive that decease, -although something very like this happened on the night -of the first performance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The great second act was on. Things were not going -as smoothly as they appeared to from the front. Even -the inexperienced Hampstead, as he waited for his cue, -could see that his angel was being enormously vexed by -the manner in which Vinicius made love. Henry -Lester was a brilliant actor, but flighty and erratic. -During rehearsal Mowrey had much trouble in getting him -to memorize accurately the business of his part. He -would do one thing one way to-day and forget it or -reverse it on the next. To-night Lester was committing -all these histrionic crimes. Miss Dounay had continually -to adapt herself to his impulsive erraticisms, to -shift speeches and alter business. The climax of -exasperation came when one of the wide metal circlets upon -his arm became entangled in the gossamer threads of -Lygia's hair and pulled it painfully. Yet the actress was -sufficiently accomplished to play her own part irreproachably -and deliver John's cue at the right moment to secure -the startling entrance already described, and thus to be -gracefully and dramatically swept away from the rude -advances of her importunate lover.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was at the end of this particular scene and off stage, -when the curtain was descending to the accompaniment -of applause from the audience, that the death of John's -illusion came. For a delicious instant, he was still -holding Lygia from the floor as if instinctively sheltering her -amidst the general confusion of crowding actors and -hurrying stage hands. Nothing loth, she lay at rest, with -eyes closed and features composed as if in the faint. To -the raw, impressionable young man, Marien had never -looked so much an angel as at this moment; and now -she was coming to, as if still in character. Her eyelids -fluttered but did not open, and then her lips moved -slightly, stiffly, under their load of greasy carmine, as if -she would speak. In self-forgetful ecstasy, Hampstead -bent eagerly to receive the confidence. Perhaps she was -going to thank him, to whisper a word of congratulation. -Whatever the communication might be, his soul was in -raptures of delightful anticipation as he felt her breath -upon his cheek.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The communication was made promptly and unhesitatingly, -after which Miss Dounay alertly swung her feet -to the floor and walked out upon the stage to receive her -curtain call, leading Ursus by the hand, mentally dazed, -inwardly wabbling, outwardly bowing,—trying, in fact, -to do just as the others did. But in John's mind now -there was this numbing sense of shock, for he could not -refuse to believe his ears, and what this angelic vision -had breathed into them in tones of cool, emphatic -conviction, was:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a damn fool that man Lester is!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Off the stage again Hampstead stumbled about amid -flying scenery, racing stage hands, and a surging mass of -supernumeraries, like a man recovering consciousness. He -wanted to get out of sight somewhere. He had the -feeling of having been stripped naked. Every vestige of his -religious adoration had been dynamited out of existence. -This was no Christian maiden but an actress playing a -part. As for the woman herself, she was very blasé and -very modern, who, at this moment, as he could see by a -glance into the open door of her dressing room, was -sitting with crossed knees, head back and enveloped in a -halo of smoke, while her pretty lips were distended in a -yawn, and the spark of a cigarette glowed in her finger -tips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I am another!" Hampstead muttered, with a -sneer that was aimed inward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seven minutes later, Lygia walked out of her dressing -room minus the cigarette and looking again that angel -vision, but Hampstead knew better now. He viewed her -at first critically and then reflectively; but was presently -startled at the gist of his reflections, which was a sort of -self-congratulation because this creature that he was -about to take in his arms was not an angel, but that more -alluring, less elusive thing, a woman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two more minutes and the pair of stage hands were -stretched stomach-wise upon the floor ready to swing -open the wings of the gate at the cue from St. Peter, and -Lygia was lying once more in John's arms. In the -instant of waiting before the curtain rose, he had time to -notice how contentedly and trustfully she appeared to -nestle there. Her breathing was like his at first, easy -and natural; but gradually, as the moment of suspense -lengthened and the instant of action drew near, the rhythmic -pulse of both bosoms accelerated, as if, heart on heart, -their souls beat in unison. John was noticing, too, how -soft Marien's body was where the armor did not extend, -how deliciously warm it was, indeed how something like -an ethereal heat radiated from it and filled all his veins -with a strange, electric, impulsive wistfulness. What was -that giddy perfume?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Involuntarily he drew her closer, with a gentle, steady -pressure. At this she raised her eyelids and gazed at -him for a moment, contemplatively first and then -passively curious, after which she lowered the lids again, -while her lips half parted in a voiceless sigh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So far as Hampstead was concerned, illusion had gone. -He knew that he was just a man. So far as Miss Dounay -was concerned, he suspected that she was just a woman. -But devotion remained. John did not relax his hold. -Instead there was a momentary tightening of his arms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let 'er go," called the low, tense voice of Mowrey; -and with a rustling sound the great curtain slipped slowly -upward.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-rate-clerk"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER V</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE RATE CLERK</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The week went by like a shot. On Sunday night the -glory that was a very stagy Rome burned down for the -last time beneath the gridiron of the old Burbank Theater. -On Monday morning no odor of grease paint and no -noxious smell of stewing glue, which proclaims the scene -painter at his work, was in the nostrils of John. Instead, -the clack of typewriters, the tinkle of telephone bells, the -droning voices of dictators, and the shuffling feet of office -boys filled his ears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As if to completely re-merge the man in his environment, -Robert Mitchell came walking in, tossed a bundle -of papers upon the desk, fixed the rate clerk with a shaft -of his blue eye, and commanded drily:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ursus! Make a set of tariffs embracing our new -lines to correspond with the commodity tariffs of the San -Francisco and El Paso."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John colored slightly at the thrust of that name Ursus, -but looked Mr. Mitchell fairly and meekly in the eye and -answered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have them effective July 1st," concluded the -General Freight Agent, as he turned away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Burman, the lordly through rate clerk, lowered his sleek -face behind his books and snickered. John shot a scowl -at Burman and then for a few minutes hunched his -shoulders over the documents in the case.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The California Consolidated was being consolidated -some more. Two more roads in the big system had just -been pitchforked into the jurisdiction of Robert Mitchell, -adding twelve hundred additional miles to his responsibility -and pushing him several swift rounds up the ladder -of promotion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These additions made the California Consolidated -competitive with the San Francisco and El Paso lines at -hundreds of new stations. John's job was to consolidate -the freight tariffs of the three lines and make sure that -they equalized the rates of the competitor at competing -stations. It was an enormous task, and the General -Freight Agent had breezily commanded it to be done in -ten weeks. That was why Burman snickered. It was -also why Hampstead scowled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now a freight tariff starts youthfully out to be the -most scientific thing in the world, but it ends by being -the most utterly unscientific document that ever was put -together. The longer a tariff lives, the more depraved -it becomes. The S.F. & E.P. tariffs were very old, -but not, therefore, honorable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John turned to the shelf that contained them and -scowled again, a double scowl, as black as his blond -Viking brows could manage. These were to be his -models. They were yellow—a disagreeable color to -begin with,—each a half inch thick and larger than a -letter page,—abortions, every one of them! They were -pea-vine growths like the monster system which issued them, -cumbered with the adjustments and easements of the -years.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The flour tariff! The hay tariff! The grain tariff! -John took these in his hands one by one and glowered -at them. The mistakes, the inconsistencies, the -clumsiness of thirty sprawling years were in them. And he -was asked to duplicate these confusions on his own system.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Should he do it? No; be hanged if he would! He felt -big and self-important as he slammed the first of them -face down upon his desk and each thereafter in succession -upon its fellow, until the pile toppled over, after -which, leaving the reckless heap behind him, while -Burman snickered again, John stamped out of the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"These S.F. & E.P. tariffs are so old they've got -whiskers on 'em," he began to say to Mr. Mitchell, "and -hairs! And the hair has never been cut nor even combed. -They have been tagged and fattened and trimmed and -sliced and slewed round till the tariff is issued just to keep -up the basis and the tradition, and then you look in -something else,—an amendment, or a special, or a 'private -special', or sometimes the carbon copy of a letter,—to find -out what the rate actually is. Sometimes when I call -their office up on the 'phone to get a rate, it takes 'em -twenty-four hours to answer, and maybe a week later -they notify me the answer was wrong. Our slate is -clean; why not simmer the figures down to what is the -actual basis instead of the assumed one, and publish the -rates as we intend to charge 'em, and as we know they -do charge 'em?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mitchell had listened with surprise at first to this rash -proposal. It sounded youthful and impetuous. But it -also sounded sensible. Mitchell hated red tape, and he -knew that John's idea was the right one; but tradition -was god on the S.F. & E.P. They would fight the -innovation and fight it hard; they might win, too, and -Mr. Mitchell had no stomach for tilting at windmills. -However, it might be a good thing for John, this fight; might -make him forget that foolish stage ambition of his; and -if he won, might crown him so lustrously that of itself -it would save him to a future already assuredly brilliant -in the railroad business.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think you could whip it out with 'em before -their faces, John, when the scrap comes?" Mr. Mitchell -asked tentatively, but also by way of further firing the -soul of the fighter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe I could," replied John ardently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then go to it," said Mr. Mitchell tersely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And John went to it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But there was another man who had been shocked by -John's theatrical venture, and that was the pastor of the -First Church, who had his virtues, much as other men. -His face was round and like his figure, full of fatness. -He was a merry soul and loved a joke. He had a heart -as tender as his sense of humor was keen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But beside his virtues, this man of God had also his -convictions. His pulpit was no wash-wallowing craft. -He steered her straight. To Heaven with Scylla! To -Gehenna with Charybdis! Indeed, if there was one man -in all Los Angeles who knew where he was going and all -the rest of the world too, it was this same Charles -Thompson Campbell, pastor of the aforesaid grand old First -Church. Doctor Campbell's hair and eyes were black. -His voice had the ultimate roar in it. When he stood -up, locks flying, perspiration streaming, and thumped his -pulpit with that fat doubled fist, the palm of which had -been moulded in youth upon the handle of a plow, every -nook and cranny of the auditorium echoed with the force -of his utterance. But Doctor Campbell's convictions, -like most people's, were only in part based upon knowledge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some things in particular he wot not of yet scorned. -One was the modern novel. Another was the stage! -Shakespeare, Doctor Campbell admitted largely, had shed -some sheen upon the stage and more upon literature; but -he never quoted Shakespeare. One could almost doubt -if he had read him, and when Shakespeare came to town, -he never went to see him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the morning, therefore, when the good Doctor -Campbell read in the papers that the youngest of his -deacons had the night before made his debut as Ursus -in </span><em class="italics">Quo Vadis</em><span>, he was not only pained but moved to -self-reproach. Grief enveloped him. It thrust the sharp -cleft of a frown into his smooth brow. It thrust his chin -down upon his bosom and caused him to heave a -tumultuous sigh. He bowed his head beside his study -table and then and there put up an earnest petition for -the soul of John Hampstead. It was a sincere and -natural prayer, because Doctor Campbell was a sincere man -and believed in the efficacy of prayer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Besides, he loved John Hampstead. The young man's -impending fate stirred the minister deeply and caused -him to reproach himself. In this mood, he dug out all -his sermons on the stage, nine years of annual sermons -on the influence of the drama, and read them sketchily -and with disappointment. Paugh! Piffle! How weak -and ineffective they seemed. He delved into his -concordance for a text and found one. Then he drove his pen -deep into his inkwell and began to write.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The following Sunday night Doctor Campbell's red, -excited features were seen dimly through dun, sulphurous -clouds of brimstone and fire; but to the preacher's -dismay, John Hampstead was not present for fumigation. -The reverend gentleman, in his unthinking goodness, had -quite overlooked the fact that the play in which John was -performing concluded on Sunday night instead of Saturday -night; and so while his pastor was hurling his fiery -diatribes at that conspicuously assailable institution, the -stage, Deacon Hampstead was blissfully bearing Marien -Dounay about in his arms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the next morning John read the sermon published -in the newspaper. He had already noted that the more -doubtful the sermon, the more likely it is to get into the -headlines, because from the editor's standpoint it thus -becomes news, and late Sunday night, which is the scarcest -hour of the whole week for news, there is more joy in -the "city room" over one sermon that breathes the fiery -spirit of sensation than over ninety and nine which need -no hell and damnation in which to express the tender -gospel of Jesus. John read it with a sense of wrath, of -outrage, and of humiliation. That night he launched -himself at the study door of his pastor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was very sorry you did not hear my sermon last -night," began Doctor Campbell blandly, sensing the -advantage of striking first.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Brother Campbell, I have come to arraign you for -that sermon," retorted John, with an immediate outburst -of feeling. "I say that you spoke what you did not -know. I say," and his voice almost broke with the weight -of its own earnestness, "I say that you bore false witness!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The amazed minister's mouth opened, but John -repressed his utterance with a gesture.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will say you preached your convictions. I say -you preached your prejudice, your ignorance. I say you -bore false witness against struggling women, against -aspiring men, against those of whose bitter battlings you -know nothing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Reverend Charles Thompson Campbell leaned back -aghast. No man had ever presumed to talk to him like -this, no man of twice his years and spiritual attainments; -yet here was this stripling not only talking to him like -this, but with a fervor of unction in his utterance that -made his upbraiding sound half inspired.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are condemning the stage as an institution," -went on John scornfully. "You might as well condemn -the printing press as an institution. You discriminate -with regard to newspapers and books. Do the same with -the stage. Taboo the corrupt play and teach your people -to avoid it. Support the good and teach the managers -that you will. Taboo the notorious actor or actress if -you wish. Give the rest of them the benefit of the doubt, -as you do in your personal contact with all humanity. -Oh, Doctor Campbell, you are so charitable in your -personal relations with men and so uncharitable in much of -your preaching!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This one exclamatory sentence had in it enough of -affectionate regard to enable the minister to contain -himself a little longer, under the impassioned tide which now -flowed again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The stage? The stage as an institution?" John -appeared to pause and wind himself up. "Why, listen! -The stage function is a godlike function. When God -created man out of the dust of the ground and breathed -into him the breath of life he planted in man's breast -also the instinct to create. That instinct is the -foundation of all art. Man has always exhibited this passion -to create something in his own image. It might be a rude -drawing on a rock, or only a manikin sculptured in mud -and set in the sun to dry; or it might be a marble of -Phidias, with the form, the strength, the spirit of life -upon it. The painter can go farther. He gets the color -and the very visage of thought and even of emotion. Yet -each falls short. There is no God to breathe into their -creations the breath of life."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister leaned back a little as if to put his -understanding more at poise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," continued Hampstead, "the playwright and the -actor can go farther. They breathe into their creations -that very breath of God himself, which he breathed into -man. They make a character real because he is a living -man. They put him in the company of other men and -women who are as real for the same reason; they toss -them all into the sea of life together; the winds of life -blow upon them. Hate and love, virtue and vice, hope -and despair, weakness and strength, birth and death, work -their will upon them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is very beautiful, John," said Doctor Campbell, -"very beautiful."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The tribute was sincere, but John was not to be checked -even by a compliment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The stage creates and recreates," he rushed on. "It -can raise the dead. It makes men and women live -again—Julius Cæsar and Cleopatra, Napoleon and Dolly -Madison. It seizes whole segments out of the circles of -past history and sets them down in the midst of to-day, -with the glow of life and the sheen of reality over all, so -that for an afternoon or a night we live in another -continent or another age. We see the life, the customs, the -petty quarrels, the sublimer passions, the very -pulse-beats of men of other circumstances and other -generations than our own, so that when we come out of the -theater into the times of to-day, we have actually to -wake ourselves up and ask: Which is real, and which is art?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Doctor Campbell leaned forward now. His mouth -was round, his eyes were widely open.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is that which gives the stage its dignity and power," -concluded John. "It is the highest expression of man's -instinct to create a new life in a more ideal Eden than -that in which he finds himself. When you condemn the -stage you condemn the creative instinct, and," exhorted -John, with the sudden sternness of a hairy prophet on -his desert rock, "you had better pause to think if you do -not condemn Him who planted that instinct in the human -breast."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead had now finished; but the minister was in -no hurry to speak. He felt the spell of the picture which -had been painted, but he felt still more the spell of the -young man's ardent enthusiasm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must have thought that out very carefully, -John," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Brother Campbell!" answered John fervently, "I -have done more than think it out. I have felt it out. I -propose to live it out!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Doctor Campbell had kept his head amid this swirl -of words, and his return was quietly forceful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The stage of to-day," he began, "as I know it from -the newspapers and the billboards, never seemed so -vulgar and damnable as it does now after your glorious -idealization of it. I, as a preacher of righteousness, -must judge of such an institution externally, by its -effects. I have weighed the stage in the balance, John, and -I have found it wanting."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This time there was something in the minister's calm -tone, in the cool detachment of his point of view, that -held John silent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't it possible," the minister continued, in a kind -of sweet reasonableness, "that there is something -insidiously demoralizing or infectious about it? Take your -own experience, John. You are a Christian man. You -have been soaking yourself in the atmosphere of the stage -for a couple of weeks. Examine your soul now, and -answer me if you are as fine, as pure a man as you were -before you went there. Are you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, of course I am," ejaculated Hampstead impulsively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Think," commanded the minister, in low, compelling -tones; for having controlled his emotions the better, he -was just now the stronger of the two. "Are you—John?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead opened his mouth eagerly, but the minister's -repressing gesture would not let him speak. The young -man was literally compelled to think, to question his own -soul for a moment, and as he searched, a telltale flush -came upon his cheek, and then his glance fell. There was -an embarrassing moment of silence, during which this -flush of mortification deepened perceptibly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister was a wise man. He read the sign and -asked no questions. He upbraided nothing, cackled no -exultant, "I told you so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us pray, Brother John," he proposed after the -interval, and knelt by his chair with a hand upon -Hampstead's shoulder. The prayer was short.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Lord," the man of God petitioned, "help us to -know where the right stops and the wrong begins. Keep -us back from the sin of presumption. Give thy servants -wisdom to serve thy cause well and work no ill to it by -over-zeal or over-confidence. Amen!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Doctor Campbell might have been praying for himself. -But John knew that this was only a part of his tact.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the two men rose, John felt a sudden impulse to -defend the stage from himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was my own fault," he urged; "the fault of my -own weakness in unaccustomed surroundings. It was -not the fault of the surroundings themselves, nor of any -other person. Besides, it was nothing very grave."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Deterioration of character is always grave," said the -Reverend Charles Thompson Campbell as he walked to -the door with his caller, and the minister's tone intimated -his conviction that this particular deterioration had been -very grave indeed.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="on-two-fronts"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">ON TWO FRONTS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>There was high commotion in a big front office in -the top floor of a tall, gray building that stood in the -days before the fire on the corner of Kearney and Market -streets in the city of San Francisco. This gray -structure housed the general offices of the San Francisco and -El Paso Railroad Company, and that big front office -contained the desk of the Freight Traffic Manager. Before -this desk sat a man with a domed brow and the beak of -an eagle, hair gray, eyes piercing, complexion colorless, -and a mouth that closed so tightly it was discernible only -as a crescent-shaped pucker above his spike-like chin. -His mouth at the moment was not a pucker; it was a -geyser. The name of this man was William N. Scofield, -and he was obviously in a rage. He had grown up with -the S.F. & E.P., his brain expanding as it expanded, his -power rising as it had risen. Long ago, when the one -lone clerk in its little rate department, he had made with -his own hands the first of those yellow commodity tariffs -that John Hampstead had scorned with objurgations. -Now Scofield held in the hand which trembled with his -anger the first of that upstart's own contributions to the -science of tariff making—not yellow, but white, in token -of the clarity it was meant to introduce.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How did they make it? this—this botch!" he exploded, -repeating his interrogation with other embellishing -phrases not properly reproducible and then slamming -the offending white sheets down hard upon his desk,—much -harder than John had slammed the yellow ones,—this -impudent, white-livered thing that was an assault -upon the customs he, Scofield, had instituted and time -itself had honored!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Telegram!" he barked to his stenographer. "Robert -Mitchell, Los Angeles. Insist immediate withdrawal -your entire line of commodity tariffs, series J. Basis -carried in our own tariffs is only one we will recognize."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mitchell answered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Decline to withdraw; our tariffs issued on actual -basis on which charges are assessed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The fight was on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arming himself cap-a-pie with tariffs, amendments, -letters, and memoranda, Mitchell two days later followed -his telegram to San Francisco. Most of his resources, -however, were packed behind the wide, blond brow of -John Hampstead, who accompanied his chief and was -more eager for the fray than Mitchell. The battle began -on Monday morning about ten of the clock, and was not -finished with the day. The field of action was a room -of this same gray building, where Howison, General -Freight Agent of the S.F. & E.P., sat at the end of a -long table, flanked right and left by assistant general -freight agents, rate clerks, and even general and district -freight agents called in from the field, all to convince -Robert Mitchell and his lone rate clerk sitting at the other -end of the table that their new tariff was a hodgepodge, -without practical basis or the show of reason to support -it. Scofield himself did not take a seat in the battle line, -but looked in occasionally, either to walk about nervously -or sit just back of Howison's shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the afternoon of the second day, the enemy Traffic -Manager appeared to watch Hampstead intently for half -an hour. Again and again the keen old fighter saw his -allied forces attack, but invariably this self-confident, -smiling young man with a ready citation, the upflashing -of a yellow "special", the digging out of a letter or a -telegram from his file, or occasionally even of an old -freight bill issued by the S.F. & E.P. showing exactly -what rate had been assessed, triumphantly repelled the -assaults, until reverses began to be the order of the day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It strikes me," Scofield remarked sarcastically, "that -this young man has got us all pretty well buffaloed. The -trouble is, Howison," he glowered, "that your Tariff -Department needs cleaning out. You've got a lot of old -mush heads in there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With this warning shot into his own ranks, Scofield -arose, went discontentedly out, and never once came back. -Keener than any of his staff, he had already discerned -that defeat was advancing down the road.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the battle of the tariffs raged on throughout the -week, and it was not until late on Saturday afternoon -that John, standing in one room of the suite in the Palace -Hotel charged to the name of Robert Mitchell, flung the -pile of papers from his arms into the bottom of a suitcase -with a swish and solid thud of satisfaction. Victory -from first to last had perched upon his tawny head. He -had met good men and beaten them; and he had a right -to the wave of exultation that surged for a moment -dizzily through his brain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Mitchell, too, was feeling exultant and proud -beyond words, as he stood in the door of John's room. -His hands were deep in his pockets; his large black derby -hat was pushed far back from his bulging brow. On his -great landscape of a countenance was an oddly significant -expression.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Jack," he began, after an interval of silence, -"what about the stage?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John started like a man surprised in a guilty act, -although he had known for months that this was a -question Mr. Mitchell might ask at any moment; but the -decision involved seemed now so big that from day to -day he had hoped the inevitable might be postponed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall be naming a new chief clerk in a couple of -weeks, now that Heitmuller is to become General Agent," -Mr. Mitchell went on half-musingly, and as if to forestall -a hasty reply to the question he had asked. "The new -man will be in line to be appointed Assistant General -Freight Agent very soon, on account of the consolidations."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment John saw himself as Chief Clerk, sitting -in the big swivel chair at the high, roll-top desk, with all -the strings of the business he knew so well how to pull -lying on the table before him; with clerks, stenographers, -men from other departments and that important part of -the shipping public which carried its business to the -general freight office, all running to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And from there it was only a short, easy step to the -position of Assistant General Freight Agent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Only the man who has toiled far down in the ranks of -a railroad organization doing routine work at the same -old desk in the same old way for half a score of years -can know on what a dizzy height sits the Chief Clerk, or -how far beyond that swings the lofty title of Assistant -General Freight Agent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your advancement would be very rapid," suggested -Mr. Mitchell, flicking his flies skilfully upon the whirling -eddies of the young man's thought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John had achieved enough and glimpsed enough to see -that Mitchell was right. Advancement would be rapid. -Mitchell would soon go up the line himself; he could -follow him. General Freight Agent, Assistant Traffic -Manager, Traffic Manager, Vice-president in charge of -traffic—President! with twelve thousand miles of -shining steel flowing from his hand, which he might swing -and whirl and crack like a whip! The prospect was -dazzling in the extreme, and yet it was only for a -moment that the picture kindled. In the next it was dead -and sparkless as burned-out fireworks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have a strong vein of traffic in your blood," the -General Freight Agent began adroitly, but John broke in -upon him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Mitchell," he said, and his utterance was grave, -"I am sorry to disappoint you, but it comes too late. A -year ago such a hint would have thrown me into ecstasies. -To-day it leaves me cold. I have had another vision."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The face of Mitchell shaded from seriousness almost -to sadness, but he was too wise to increase by argument -an ardor about which, to the railroad man, there was -something not easy to be understood, something, indeed, -almost fanatical. Instead Mitchell asked with sober, -interested friendliness:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is your plan, John?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To resign July first," John answered, for the first -time definitely crossing the bridge, "to come to San -Francisco and seek an engagement with some of the -stock companies playing permanently here, even though -I begin the search for an opening without money enough -to last more than a week or two."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Without money!" exclaimed Mr. Mitchell, in surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," confessed Hampstead, flushing a little. "My -salary was not very munificent, you know, and I have -usually contrived to get rid of it, frequently before I got -the pay check in my hands."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Mitchell's small, prudent eyes looked disfavor at a -spendthrift.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"However," he suggested, "you have only yourself to -think of."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's another point against me," confessed -Hampstead. "I have some one else to look out for. My -brother-in-law is an artist, you know, and he has not been -very successful yet, so that I hold myself ready to help -with my sister and the children if it should ever become -necessary."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's a handicap," declared Mitchell flatly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I won't admit it," said John loyally. "You don't -know those children. Tayna's the girl, nearly twelve -now, a beauty if her nose is pugged. Such hair and eyes, -and such a heart! Dick's the boy, past ten. He's had -asthma always, and is about a thousand years old, some -ways. But they—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead gulped queerly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Those two children," he plunged on, "are dearer to -me than anything in the whole wide world. You -know," and his tone became still more confidential, while -his eyes grew moist, "it would only be something that -happened to them that would keep me from going on with -my stage career."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mitchell's respect for John was changing oddly to a -fatherly feeling. He felt that he was getting acquainted -with his clerk for the first time. He resolved that he -would not tempt the boy, and that if it became necessary, -he would help him. However, before he could express -this resolve, if he had intended to express it, the telephone -rang.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead answered it, stammered, faltered, replied: -"I will see, sir, and call you in five minutes," hung up -the 'phone and turned to confront Mitchell, with a look -almost of fright upon his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's William N. Scofield," he exclaimed. "He wants -me to take dinner with him at his club to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A disbelieving smile appeared for a moment on the -wide lips of Mitchell; then understanding broke, and his -smile was swallowed up in a hearty laugh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He wants to offer you a position," Mitchell said, -when his exultant cachinnations had ceased. "Look out -that he doesn't win you. Scofield is a very persuasive -man. He nearly got me once. Besides, he has more to -offer you than I have."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead pressed his hand to his brow. Under his -tawny thatch ideas were in a whirl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What shall I do?" he asked rather helplessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stay over," commanded Mitchell unhesitatingly. -"Ring up and tell him you'll be there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But there's no use, anyway," replied John suddenly, -getting back to the main point. "My mind's made up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No man's mind is made up when he's going to take -dinner on the proposition with William N. Scofield," -answered Mitchell oracularly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you?" asked Hampstead, suddenly aware how -good a man at heart was Robert Mitchell, and quite -unaware that he had seized that gentleman's pudgy right -hand and was wringing it in a manner most embarrassing -to Mitchell himself. "You—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the telephone was tingling impatiently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Scofield wants to know," began a voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes, I'll be happy to," interrupted John, not -knowing just what tone or form one should take in -expressing the necessary amenities to the secretary of a -great man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well. His car will call for you at six-thirty," -responded the voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But before John could pick up the thread of his -unfinished sentence to Mr. Mitchell, a knock sounded at the -door, at first soft and cushioned, as if from a gloved -hand, then louder and more determined, and repeated -with quick impatience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in," called Mitchell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The knob turned, and the door swung wide, leaving the -panel of white to frame the picture of a woman. She -was young, of medium height and appealing roundness, -clad from head to foot in a traveling dress of dark green, -with a small hat of a shade to match, the chief adornment -of which was a red hawk's feather slanting backward at a -jaunty angle. A veil enveloped both hat brim and face -but was not thick enough to dim the sparkle of bright -eyes or the pink flush of dimpled cheeks, much less to -conceal two rows of gleaming teeth from between which, -after a moment's pause for sensation, burst a ringing -cadence of laughter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Bessie!" exclaimed John excitedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The very first guess!" declared that young lady, -advancing and yielding the doorframe to another figure -which filled it so much more completely as to sufficiently -explain a more deliberate arrival.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mollie!" ejaculated Mitchell, who by this time had -turned toward the door. "What in thunder?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the General Freight Agent's lines of communication -were just then temporarily disconnected by an assault -upon his features conducted by Miss Bessie in person. -During this interval, Mrs. Mitchell stood placidly -surveying the room, and as she took in its air of preparation -for immediate departure, a tantalizing smile spread -itself on her expansive features.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is this an accident or a calamity?" demanded -Mitchell, playfully thrusting Bessie aside and advancing -to greet his wife.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Both!" declared that lady, submitting her lips with -more of formality than enthusiasm, after which, feeling -that sufficient time had elapsed to make an explanation -of her sudden appearance not undignified, she proceeded:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just one of my whims, Bob! Next week was the -spring vacation; no school, and the poor child was pale -from overstudy and so anxious about her examinations -(Bessie shot a look at Hampstead), that I just made up -my mind I'd bring her up here and let her get a good bite -of fog and a breath from the Golden Gate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fine idea!" declared Mitchell. "Fine! Now that -you've had it," he chuckled, "we'll start home. I'm -leaving at eight."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are not!" proclaimed Mrs. Mitchell flatly. -"You will stay right here for at least three days and do -nothing but devote yourself to your child. And to her -mother!" she subjoined, as if that were an afterthought; -all with a toss of her chin, which, by way of emphasis, -held its advanced position for a moment after the speech -was done.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And the business of the company?" Mitchell suggested, -with a solicitous air.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It can wait on me," averred Mrs. Mitchell decisively, -taking a turn up and down the room and surveying once -more the signs of confusion and of hasty packing. -"Many's the time I've waited on it. You can stay, too, -John," she said, turning to Hampstead. "I want you -to take Bessie to a lot of places Robert and I have been -and won't care to visit this time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Robert!" and while her eyes turned toward the -windows, two of which opened on a view of Market -Street, the new commander began a redisposition of -forces, "I rather like this suite. Bessie and I will take -the corner room. You can take this room and -Mr. Hampstead can move across the hall, or anywhere else -they can put him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As an act of possession, Mrs. Mitchell walked to the -dresser, took off her hat, stabbed the two pins into it -emphatically, and tossed it upon the bed, where it bloomed -like a flower-garden in the midst of a desert of papers -while she, still standing before the mirror, bestowed a -few comfortable pats upon her hair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John," Mitchell said jovially, "I know orders from -headquarters when I get 'em. You were going to stay -over, anyway; but use your own judgment about obeying -the instructions you have just received."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never had such agreeable instructions in my life," -declared Hampstead, turning to Mrs. Mitchell with an -elaborately stagy bow, and the natural quotation from -Hamlet which leaped to his lips:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'</span><em class="italics">I shall in all my best obey you, madam.</em><span>'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See that you do," said that lady, not half liking the -bow and shooting a glance at Hampstead less cordial than -austere. "And by the way," she added, "see that you -don't let that stage nonsense carry you much further, -young man," with which remark Mrs. Mitchell turned -abruptly and gave Hampstead a most complete view of a -broad and uncompromising back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In Mrs. Mitchell's mind a man had much better be a -section hand on the Great Southwestern than a fixed star -on the drama's milky way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By the way, mother," remarked Mr. Mitchell, with -the air of one who makes an important revelation, "John -is just going out to dine with William N. Scofield."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Mitchell turned quickly, and her dark eyes shot a -meaningful glance at her husband, while the line of her -lower lip first grew full and then protruded. A squeeze -of that lip at the moment, Hampstead reflected, would -extract something at least as sour as very sour lemon -juice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Scofield is after him," bragged Mitchell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, see that he doesn't get him," his wife commanded -sternly, and then shifting her somber glance until -it rested on John with a look that was near to menace, -inquired acridly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Young man, you wouldn't be disloyal? You -wouldn't sell yourself?" In the second interrogatory -her voice had passed from acridity to bitterness, while the -eyes bored implacably, till Hampstead at first wriggled, -then grew resentful and replied crisply, standing very -straight:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, Mrs. Mitchell, I would not sell myself!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's right," exclaimed Bessie, stepping impulsively -toward John's side. "Do not let her browbeat you. I -am sorry to say, Mr. Hampstead, that mother is -inclined to be somewhat dictatorial. You see what she -does to poor papa!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you see what you do to poor me," exclaimed that -worthy lady, turning on her daughter with surprise and -injury in her glance and tone,—"dragging me almost -out of bed last night to make this foolish trip up here -with you. Next week, of all weeks, too, when I wanted -to do so many other things."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ho! ho!" broke in Mitchell, "so that's the way of -it. This trip up here is a scheme of yours," and he -turned accusingly upon his daughter, but Bessie smiled -and curtseyed, entirely unabashed. "Well, then, I don't -guess we'll stay," teased Mitchell. "And I don't -suppose you knew a thing about Hampstead's being here. -That was all an accident."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was not," flashed Bessie. "I did. I haven't seen -dear old John for a year. I could go in and have delightful -tête-à-têtes with him when he was a stenographer, but -out in the Rate Department there are forty prying eyes -and men with ears as long as jack-rabbits. He hasn't -taken me to a circus or anything for nobody knows how -long. You shall give him money for theater tickets, for -dinners, for auto rides, for everything nice for three -whole days."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie was standing directly in front of her father, -her eyes looking up into his, and her two hands patting -his generous jowls, as her speech was concluded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John listened rapturously. This was the old Bessie -talking. She had entered the room looking a year older, -a year prettier since that day when he wrote the Phroso -invitations for her, and had taken on so easily the lacquer -and dignity of dresses and of years that he was beginning -to feel in awe of her. This speech was a great relief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Besides, in the whirl of the hour before she came, he -had found himself strangely wanting to take counsel -with Bessie. The Mitchells had made of him for all -these years a convenient caretaker of their daughter. -Bessie had made of him a playfellow with whom she -took the same liberties as with any other of her father's -possessions. This attitude on her part had created the -only atmosphere in which Hampstead could have been at -ease with her. It had permitted his soul to bask when -she was by, but it had done no more. But now, he -somehow wanted to confide in Bessie,—not to take her advice -for he wasn't going to take anybody's advice; all advice -was against him,—but to tell her what he was going to -do, because he believed she would listen appreciatingly, -if not sympathetically. He felt he needed at least the -added support of a neutral mind. He had rejected -Mr. Mitchell's proposal, but the glitter of it flashed -occasionally. And now he was going to face the resourceful, the -ingratiating, the dominating William N. Scofield, and he -felt like a man who goes alone to meet his temptation on -the mountain top.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-high-bid"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE HIGH BID</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>For an hour and a half at dinner, and for another -hour sunk in the depths of a great leather chair in the -lounging room of the Pacific Union Club, William -N. Scofield had searched the soul of Hampstead, who had -not only been led to talk rapturously of his stage -ambition but to reveal the metes and bounds of his interest -in and knowledge upon many subjects.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gad, but you know a lot," ejaculated Scofield, with -unfeigned amazement. "Where'd you get it all?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have read a good deal," confessed John, trying to -appear much more modest than in his heart he felt; for -it was a part of Scofield's whim or of his campaign to -flatter him enormously, and he had succeeded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But for a time now, the Traffic Manager was silent, -puffing meditatively at his cigar and staring at the ceiling -through loafing rings of smoke in which, as if they were -floating letters, he seemed to read the transcript of his -thought,—the thought that if, beside employing this -enormously able young man, he could also enlist in -behalf of the railroad as an institution his capacity for -fanatical devotion to an ideal, the prize was one worth -bidding high for, high enough to win!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"People like you, Hampstead," Scofield broke out -presently, and in his most ingratiating vein. "We all -felt that down at the office. You did a difficult thing -without making an enemy of one of us. Therefore what -your personality can do interests me even more than what -you know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The railroad man interrupted his speech to shoot an -exploratory glance from under veiling lids and went on -calculatingly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The railroad business is going to change. Now we -tell the Railroad Commission what to do. The time is -coming when it will tell us what to do, and we will do it. -But the public attitude toward the railroad has also got -to change." Scofield's tone had taken on new emphasis.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You would make the type of executive that could change -it! The successful transportation man of the future has -got to be a sort of ambassador of the railroad to the -people, and the man who best serves the people tributary -to his road will best serve his stockholders."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know who gave me that point?" the Traffic -Manager asked, turning from the vision he was contemplating -in the clouds of smoke over his head and looking -sharply at Hampstead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Naturally not," admitted the younger man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bob Mitchell," said Scofield, and paused while his -thin lips coaxed persistently at the cigar which appeared -to have gone out. "Bob Mitchell! And I reviled him -for his sagacity, told him he was an altruistic fool. But -after a while I saw he was right. Then I tried to get -him for us, but I didn't succeed. He wasn't as sensible -as I hope you will be. Besides, I am going to offer you -more than I offered him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>More than he offered Mitchell! There was a sudden -jolt somewhere in John's breast, and he wet a dry, parched -lip, but did not speak.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," breathed Scofield softly, almost as if he had -been interrupted. "I am going to offer you more. -Hampstead!" and the voice was raised quickly, "I want -you to be our General Freight Agent!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If Scofield had leaned over and kissed him, John would -not have been more surprised, nor have known less what -to say.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"General Freight Agent!" he croaked hoarsely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," affirmed the other coolly, almost icily, while he -flicked the ashes from his cigar and enjoyed the sensation -his proposal had produced.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At my age?" stumbled John, still groping, but trying -to see himself in the position.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, yes," reassured Scofield suavely. "You tell -me you're past twenty-five. Paul Morton was Assistant -General Freight Agent of the Burlington at twenty-one. -Look where he is to-day—in the cabinet of the President -of the United States. The salary," Scofield added -casually, by way of finally clinching the argument, "will be -twelve thousand a year."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead's lips silently formed the words—twelve -thousand! But he did not utter them. They dazed him. -They rushed him headlong. They made rejection -impossible. No man had a right to throw away such a -fortune as that. One thousand dollars a month! He -felt himself yielding, helplessly, irresistibly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then, suddenly as the photographer's bomb lights -up every lineament of every face in the darkened room, -for one single moment Hampstead saw things clearly and -in their true proportions. This Schofield was not a man. -He was a grinning devil, with horns and a barb on his -tail. He was tempting, trapping, buying him. He would -not be bought. "</span><em class="italics">No, Mrs. Mitchell, I would not sell -myself,</em><span>" he had said, not, however, meaning at all what -that lady meant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Leaning back stubbornly, his fist smiting heavy blows -upon the cushioned arm of the chair, John muttered -through clenched teeth:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No! No! No—I'll never do it. No, Mr. Scofield, -I cannot accept your offer. I thank you for it; but -I cannot accept it. The stage is to be the place of my -achievement. Why, why, Mr. Scofield, the wonderfully -flattering offer you have made to me to-night has come -because of the training incident to the cultivation of a -stage ambition. If it can bring me so much with so little -devotion, is it not reasonable to suppose that it will bring -me more—very much more? I will not be so disloyal -to that which has been so generous with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Scofield's countenance had suddenly and impressively -changed. It became a mask of stone, a sphinx-like thing, -the brow a knot, the nose a beak, the mouth a stitched -scar. The beady gleam of the eyes from beneath drawn -lids was sinister. This fanatical young fool was -escaping him, and Scofield did not like any one to escape -him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the young man refused to be swerved by frowns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not to manage railroads," he declared enthusiastically, -"but to mould human character is to be my life-work; -to depict the virtues and the vices, the weaknesses -and the strengths of life, to make men laugh and love -and—forget."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Scofield's eyes twinkled, and his mouth became less a -scar, but John thought this was a very fine phrase really, -and he rushed along:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Life looks like a tangle, like a mess—drudgeries, -disappointments, injustices—the wrong man -prospering—the wrong girl suffering! The drama composes -life. It grabs out a few people and follows them, -compressing into the action of two hours the eventualities of -a lifetime and shortening perspectives till men can see the -consequences of their acts, whether for good or for ill. -The stage teaches the doctrine of the conservation of -moral energy—and of immoral energy—that sustained -effort, conserved effort is never cheated; it gets its goal -at last."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Say!" broke in Scofield; but John would not be -denied what he felt was a final smashing generalization.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To figure the tariff on human conduct, to grade and -classify the acts of life, to quote the rates on happiness -and misery in trainload lots. That's what I'm going to -do," he concluded, with a glow upon his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But by this time a smile of cynic pity had appeared -upon the face of the railroad man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hampstead," he exclaimed sharply, with a mimic -shudder and a shrug of relief as if he had just escaped -something, "you're not an actor. You're a preacher!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John gasped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're a moralist," asserted Scofield accusingly, "a -puritanical, Sunday-school, twaddling moralist. I have -misjudged you. I wouldn't want you around at all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a look akin to disgust upon his face, the railroad -man made a motion with his fingers in the air as if -ridding them of something sticky, and arose, not abruptly -but decisively, making clear that the interview had proved -disappointingly unprofitable and was therefore at an end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John also arose, bewildered by the sudden change in -Scofield's attitude—a change which he resented, and -also the ground of it. He a preacher? The idea was -ridiculous.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Besides, it makes an astonishing difference when one -has been stubbornly refusing an offer to have the offer -coolly and decisively withdrawn. Something subtly -psychological made him want the offer back. The door -of opportunity had been closed behind him with a snap -so vicious that he wanted to turn and kick it open.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the thin, talon-like hand of Scofield was hooking -the young man's rather flaccid palm for a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Remember what I tell you," he barked out in parting. -"You're not an actor. You're not a railroad man. -You're a preacher!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The last word was flung bitingly, like an epithet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, feeling uncomfortable, walked out and along one -side of Union Square, casting a momentary wondering -eye on the stabbing, twin towers of the Hotel St. Francis, -many windowed and many-lighted; then turned on down -Geary into Market and along that wide and cobbled -thoroughfare to the doors of the old Palace Hotel. By -the time he was in bed, he realized that Scofield had -shaken him terribly. His decision was all to make over -again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, Bessie would be there for three days to help -him, and with this thought he felt comforted.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"It's been a great three days," sighed John, on the -following Tuesday. Bessie also sighed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had clambered down from the parapet below the -Cliff House and sat watching the seals at play upon the -rocks a stone's throw out from beneath their feet. Their -position marked the southern portal of the famous Golden -Gate, through which a mile-wide stream of liquid blue was -running. Across the Gate rose the sheer gray cliffs of -Marin County and beyond those the rugged greens and -blues of the mountains, spiked in the center by the peak -of Tamalpais.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before their faces, the ocean, in swells and scoops of -ever grayer gray, ran out to catch the horizon as it fell, -illumined in its lower reaches by the sun, which was -sinking into the haze above the waters like a lustrous orange -ball.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Southward, beyond the green head of Golden Gate -Park, the yellow gray of the sand dunes and the blue gray -of the sea met in a lingering, playful kiss that swept back -and forth in a long shimmering line which ran on sinuously, -growing fainter and fainter, till lost in the shadow -of the distant cliffs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The hour was five o'clock. At eight that night John -was to leave for Los Angeles. His vacation—the only -vacation of his hard-driven life—was to end, and an -epoch in his existence was also nearing its end. The past -was clear as the land behind him; the future was an area -of tossing uncertainty. Nothing appeared,—no track, -no wake, no sail, no sun even. Only far over, beyond the -curve of the horizon, was a kind of strange, unearthly -glow, and on this his eye was set.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For three days his soul had ebbed and flowed like that -lip of foam upon the beach, now stealing far up on the -land,—for him the backward track; now turning and -running far out to sea,—for him the way of adventure -and advance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But now the ultimate decision was to be made. Bessie -saw it rising like a tide upon that face which once had -seemed not to fit, a rapt look which snuggled in the hills -and hollows and then began to harden like setting concrete. -No one would call that face homely now. Interesting, -most likely, would have been the word.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The gray eyes burned brighter, the lips grew tighter. -The chin advanced, moved out to sea a little, as it were.</span></p> -<p class="pnext" id="id1"><span>"Follow your star, John," Bessie declared stoutly, -though a look of pain momentarily touched her whitening -lips. "I shall despise you if you do not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The decision is made," John replied solemnly, "and -you, Bessie, have helped to make it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie did not reply; she only looked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Silence fell between them. Silence, too, was in the -heavens; the sun, the waves, the restless wind for the -moment appeared to stand still. All nature had paused -respectfully. A man, young, inexperienced, but potential, -had cast the horoscope of life beyond the power of -gods or men to intervene,—and with it had cast some -other horoscopes as well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead felt the spell his act of will had wrapped -about them, but he felt also the substance of his -resolution framing like granite in his soul and making him -strong with a new kind of strength.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But soon the sun was descending again, the clouds were -drifting once more, and a gust of wind nipped sharply, -causing the skirts of John's overcoat to flap lustily. -Bessie twitched her fur collar closer about the neck, and -thrust both hands deep into the pockets of her gray ulster. -Hampstead passed his own hand through the curve of the -girl's elbow, gripped her forearm possessively, selfishly, -absently, and drew her toward him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Indeed Bessie was closer to him than she had ever been -before; and yet she had never felt so far away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, but it's great to have a woman by you in a crisis," -John chuckled happily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie looked up startled. John had called her woman. -But she recovered from the start,—he had also called her -</span><em class="italics">a</em><span> woman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come to understand each other pretty well, haven't -we?" John observed, still looking oceanward, but giving -the arm of Bessie what was intended for a meaningful -squeeze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not at all," sighed Bessie, also still looking oceanward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead, his thoughts bowling rapidly forward, -continued motionless until a white-winged, curious-eyed gull -sailed between his line of vision and the water. Then, as -if abruptly conscious that Bessie's answer was not what -it should have been, he turned, and at the same time boldly -swung her body round till they stood facing each other. -Bessie met this gaze unblinkingly for a moment, with her -face set and sober; then something in John's mystified -glance touched her keen sense of humor, and she laughed,—her -old, roguish laugh,—and flirted the stupid in the -face with the end of her boa.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You great big egoist!" she smiled. "There, that's -the first chance I've had to use that word. I only learned -the difference between it and another last week."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed!" retorted Hampstead. "And when did you -learn the difference between me and the other word?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I'm not sure that there is a difference," she -sparred. "Being polite, I just concede it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh," he chuckled. "But," and he was serious again, -"you say we don't understand each other?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nonsense; I was only joking. I do understand -you; you great, big, egoistical egotist! You are just -now absolutely self-centered—and all, all ambition! -And I am secretly—secretly, you understand—proud of -you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you," said Hampstead, drawing her close again, -"are just the truest, most understanding friend a man -ever, ever had. You know, Bessie, a fellow can talk to -you just like a sister,—a pretty little sister!" he -subjoined, when Bessie looked less pleased than he thought -she should.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You've changed a lot, too, in a year," he conceded, -studying her face critically. "When you came into the -hotel that night, you struck fear into my heart, and then -kind of made it flutter. I said to myself, 'She's gone—the -old Bessie, that could be played with. But here's a -young woman, a handsome young woman, taking her -place.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you say that?" asked Bessie happily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An exceedingly beautiful woman," went on John, as -if stimulated by the interruption. "By George, a very -corker of a woman—look at those eyes, those lips, those -dimples. Same old dimples, girl!" he laughed emotionally. -"And I said, 'Now, here's a woman, a ripe, wonderful -woman, to be made love to—'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was in Bessie's sudden exclamation the surcharged -sense of all the proprieties which their relationship -involved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, don't be alarmed," exclaimed Hampstead, suddenly -very earnest and respectful. "I am not leading up -to anything. I do not misunderstand the nature of your -goodness to me. I am not presuming anything. I am -only telling you what I said to myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh," murmured Bessie noncommittally, though -she shivered for a moment as if a gust of wind had come -again. Hampstead, feeling this, drew her still closer and -hunched his broad shoulder to shelter her more, as he -explained further:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But it was I, you know, and there was nothing for me -to do but to fly. I was for jumping out the window. -And then you suddenly made that wonderful speech about -going to the circus with dear old John, and your mother -let it out that you wanted me to run around with you -here, and I saw that toward me you were the same old -Bessie; that for a few days we could be once more just -friendly, only two finer friends, because we're both grown -up now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," Bessie sighed, almost contentedly. "I did -want you, John. A girl gets tired of society, of clubs -and dances and things, even in High. You know, I get -weary of the sight of these slim, pompadoured boys -sometimes. I just wanted somehow to feel the arm of a real -man, to hear him talk, even if he does nothing but talk -about himself, and until this minute in three days has not -confessed that I have dimples, and—and a heart."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Slow, about some things, am I not?" confessed John. -"Awfully, awfully slow!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will agree with you," said Bessie, with a mournfulness -that literally compelled him to perceive that she was -some way disappointed in him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," he inquired reproachfully, "aside from my -usefulness as a social escort and a sort of masculine tonic, -you do admire me a little, don't you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes," she answered frankly. "I admire you a lot."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you're disappointed about something?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Apprehension is the better word," she confessed -soberly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Apprehension? Of what?" John was looking at -her almost accusingly. Bessie avoided his glance. She -could not tell him what she feared nor why she feared it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You think I'll fail?" John demanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," disclaimed Bessie seriously. "I think you will -succeed!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You think so?" and Hampstead's face lighted -brilliantly. "Oh, God bless you for that!" and again he -shook her, this time tenderly and drew her closer till her -breast was touching his, and she leaned her head far back -to look up into his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," she breathed softly, "I think so!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you do not think me silly for turning my back -upon solid realities to follow my ideal?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No! No!" and she shook her head emphatically, "I -honor you for it, John. You have inspired me, John, and -thrilled me. I used to think—how good you are! Now -I think—how noble you are! You have made my -feeling for you one of worshipfulness almost."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The look in her face did express that, and Hampstead -noticed it now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah," he murmured, pressing her arms against her -sides, "you dear, impressionable little girl!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Quite thoughtless of how unnecessarily close he was -drawing Bessie, either to shelter her from the wind or for -the purpose of conversation, or especially in the fulfillment -of his duty to his charge as guide and protector, John was -finding a pleasurable sensation in this position of -intimacy, and was indeed, just upon the threshold of one -very great discovery when he made another, perhaps -equally surprising, but vastly less important. Looking -into the upturned eyes, which after the canons of Delsarte, -he was thinking expressed "devotion" perfectly, a -shadow was seen to project itself downward from the -upper lids across the iris, as if a storm were gathering on -a placid lake. John watched the shadow curiously as it -deepened, until it became clear that a mist was congealing -in those swimming violet depths.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Bessie," he exclaimed, amazed, "you are going -to cry!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the instant two tears trickled from the dark lashes -and gleamed for a moment like solitaire diamonds in the -setting of two ruby spots that had gathered unaccountably -upon her upturned cheeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are crying," he charged straightly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie's expression never changed, but her smooth, -round chin nodded a trembling and unabashed assent. A -sudden impulse seized John. The position of his arms -shifted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bessie!" he murmured feelingly, "I am going to -kiss you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie did not appear half as surprised at this announcement -as Hampstead at himself for making it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May I?" he persisted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The expression of devotion in Bessie's swimming orbs -remained unstartled, her pose unaltered. Only her lips -moved while she breathed a single word: "Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Instantly their ruby and velvet softness yielded to the -pressure of John's, planted as tenderly and chastely as -was his thought of her,—for that other discovery that he -was on the verge of making had been fended off by the -coming of the tear.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="john-makes-up"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">JOHN MAKES UP</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>That night, according to programme, John went back -to Los Angeles; and a few weeks later, also according to -programme, he was again in San Francisco, no longer a -railroad man, but—in his thought—an actor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now calling oneself an actor and being one are quite -different; but it took an experience to prove this to John. -Even the opportunity for this experience was itself hard -to get. It was days before he even saw a theatrical -manager, weeks before he met one personally, and a month -before he got his first engagement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he talked of the drama to actors the way he had -talked of it to the Reverend Charles Thompson Campbell, -they did not comprehend him; when he talked to them as -he had to Scofield, they smiled cynically; when he admitted -to one manager that he was without professional experience, -the admission drew a sneer which froze the stream -of hope in his breast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John thereafter told no other manager this, but learned -instead the value of a "front", and inserted in the -professional columns of the </span><em class="italics">San Francisco Dramatic Review</em><span> a -card which read:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<pre class="literal-block"> -<span>+------------------+ -| | -| JOHN HAMPSTEAD | -| HEAVY | -| AT LIBERTY | -| | -+------------------+</span> -</pre> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Heavy" in theatrical parlance means the villain. -Modestly confessing himself not quite equal to "leads", -though in his heart John scorned to believe his own -confession, he had announced himself as a "heavy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This card appeared for three succeeding weeks, but on -the fourth week there was a significant change. It read:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<pre class="literal-block"> -<span>+-----------------------------------+ -| | -| JOHN HAMPSTEAD | -| HEAVY | -| With the People's Stock Company | -| | -+-----------------------------------+</span> -</pre> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The People's Stock Company was new, a "ten-twenty-thirty" -organization, got together in a day for a season of -doubtful length, in a huge barn of a house that once had -been the home of bucket-of-blood melodramas, but for a -long time had been given over to cobwebs and prize fights. -The promoters had little money. They spent most of it -on new paint and gorgeous, twelve-sheet posters. Everything -was cheap and gaudy, but the cheapest thing was the -company—and the least gaudy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The opening play was a blood-spiller with thrills -guaranteed; the scene was laid in Cuba at a period just -preceding the Spanish-American War. Hampstead's part -was a Spanish colonel, Delaro by name. Delaro was no -ordinary double-dyed villain. He was triple-dyed at the -least, and would kick up all the deviltry in the piece from -the beginning to the end; he would steal the fair Yankee -maiden who had strayed ashore from her father's yacht; -he would imprison her in an out-of-the-way fortress; court -her, taunt her, threaten her—and then when the audience -was wrought to the highest pitch of excitement and the -last throb of pity for her impending fate at the hands of -this fiend in yellow uniform and brass buttons, the -galloping of horses would herald the appearance of -Lieutenant Bangster, U.S.N., lover of the maiden and hero -of the play. (The Navy on horseback!) A pitched -battle would result, pistols, rifles, cannon would be fired, -the fortifications would be blown away, and Old Glory -go fluttering up the staff to the thundering applause of -the gods of the gallery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Delaro was an enormous opportunity; but it was also -an enormous responsibility. John went into rehearsal -haunted by fear that the carefully guarded secret of his -inexperience would be discovered, knowing that instant -humiliation and discharge would follow. He had -trudged, hoped, brazened, starved, prayed to get this part. -He must not lose it, and he must make good. The sweat -of desperation oozed daily from his pores.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Halson, the stage manager, was a tall, tubercular -person, with a husk in his throat and a cloudy eye. This eye -seemed always to John to be cloudier still when turned on -him. On the fourth day of rehearsal, these clouded looks -broke out in lightning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stop that preaching!" Halson commanded impatiently. -"You are intoning those speeches like a parrot -in a pulpit. Colonel Delaro is not a bishop. He is a -villain—a damned, detestable, outrageous villain! Play -it faster; read those speeches more naturally. My God, -you must have been playing— By the way, Hampstead, -what were you playing last?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The shot was a bull's-eye. John felt himself suddenly -a monstrous fraud and had a sickening sense of -predestined failure. In his soul he suddenly saw the truth. -Acting was not bluffing. Acting was an art! The poorest, -dullest of these people, bad as they appeared to be, -knew how to read their lines more naturally than he. He -was not an actor. He never had been an actor. He was -only a recitationist.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What were you playing last, I say?" bullied Halson, -as if suddenly suspicious.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But John had rallied. "If I don't get the experience, -how will I ever become an actor," was what he said to -himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My last season was in Shakespeare," was what he -observed to Halson, with deliberate dignity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh," exclaimed the stage manager, much relieved. -"That explains it. I was beginning to think somebody -had sawed off a blooming amateur on me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John had not deemed it prudential to add that this -season in Shakespeare lasted one whole evening and -consisted of some slices from the Merchant of Venice -presented in the parlor of the Hotel Green in Pasadena; and -the scorn with which Halson had immediately pronounced -the word "amateur" sent a shiver to Hampstead's -marrow, while he congratulated himself on his discretion. -Nevertheless, he suffered this day many interruptions -and much kindergarten coaching from Halson and felt -himself humiliated by certain overt glances from the cast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The boobs!" thought John. "The pin-heads! -They don't know half as much as I do. They never -taught a Y.M.C.A. class in public speaking; they never -gave a lesson in elocution in all their lives, and here they -are staring at me, because I have a little trouble mastering -the mere mechanics of stage delivery. It's simple. I'll -have it by to-morrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But at the end of the rehearsal, John felt weak. Instead -of leaving the theater, he slipped behind a curtain -into one of the boxes and sank down in the gloom to be -alone and think. But he was not so much alone as he -thought. A voice came up out of the shadows in the -orchestra circle. It was the voice of Neumeyer, the -'angel' of the enterprise, who was even more -inexperienced in things dramatic than his "heavy" man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How do you think it'll go?" Neumeyer had asked -anxiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, it'll go all right," barked the whiskey-throat of -Halson. "It'll go. All that's worrying me is this blamed -fool Hampstead. How in time I sawed him off on myself -is more than I can tell. However, I've engaged a new -heavy for next week."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John groped dumbly out into the day. But in the -sunshine his spirits rallied. "They can't take this part away -from me," he exulted and then croaked resolutely: "I'll -show 'em; I'll show 'em yet. They're bound to like me -when they see my finished work."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And that was what he kept saying to himself up to the -very night of the first performance. But that significant -occasion brought him face to face with another -problem,—his make-up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The matter of costume was simple. It had been rented -for a week from Goldstein's. It was fearsomely -contrived. The trousers were red. Varnished oilcloth -leggings, made to slip on over his shoes, were relied upon to -give the effect of top boots. The coat was of yellow, with -spiked tails, with huge, leaf-like chevrons, with rows of -large, superfluous buttons, and coils on coils of cord of -gold.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But make-up could not be hired from a costumer and -put on like a mask. It was a matter of experience, of -individuality, and of skill upon the part of the actor. All -John knew of make-up he had read in the books and -learned from those experimental daubs in which his -features had been presented in his own barn-storming -productions. The make-up of Ursus had been almost -entirely a matter of excess of hair, acquired by a beard and -a wig rented for the occasion. This, therefore, was -really to be his first professional make-up, and Hampstead -was blissfully determined that it should be a stunning -achievement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In order that he might have plenty of time for -experiment, the heavy man entered the dressing rooms at six -o'clock, almost an hour and a half before any other actor -felt it necessary to appear, and went gravely about his -important task.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>First treating the pores of his face to a filling of cold -cream,—all the books agreed in this,—John chose a dark -flesh color from among his grease paints and proceeded to -give himself a swarthy Spanish complexion. Judging -that this swarthiness was too somber, he proceeded next -to mollify it by the over-laying of a lighter flesh tint; but -later, in an effort to redden the cheeks, he got on too much -color and was under the necessity of darkening it again. -Thus alternately lightening and darkening, experimenting -and re-experimenting, seven o'clock found him with a -layer of grease paint, somewhere about an eighth of an -inch thick masking his features into almost complete -immobility.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next he turned attention to the eyes, blackening the -lashes and edging the lids themselves with heavy mourning. -At the outer corners of the eyes he put on a smear -of white to drive the eye in toward the nose; between the -corner of the eye and the nose, he was careful to deepen -the shadow. This was to make his eyes appear close -together. Down the bridge of the nose he drew a straight -white stripe to make that organ high and thin and -narrow; while in the corner between the cheek and nostril -went another smear of white, to drive the nose up still -higher and sharper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the midst of this artistry, Jarvis Parks, the character -man, who had been assigned to dress with Hampstead, -entered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello," said John, with an attempt at unconcern.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hard at it," commented Parks, and began with the -ease of long practice to arrange his make-up materials -about him, after which deftly, and almost without looking -at what he was doing, he transformed himself into a -youthful, rosy-cheeked, navy chaplain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Half hour!" sang the voice of the call boy from below -stairs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John was busy now adjusting a pirate moustache to his -upper lip by means of liberal swabbings of spirit gum. -As he worked, he hummed a little tune just to show -Parks how much at ease and with what satisfied indifference -he performed the feat of transposing his fair Saxon -features into the cruel scowls of a villainous Spanish -colonel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But catching the eye of Parks upon him for a moment, -Hampstead was puzzled by the expression, although he -reflected that it was probably admiration, since he -certainly had got on ever so much better than he expected. -It surely was a fine make-up—a brilliant make-up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fifteen minutes," sang the voice of the call boy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead could really contain his self-complacency -no longer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," he exclaimed, turning squarely on Parks, -"what do you think of it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now if John had only known, he disclosed his whole -amateurish soul to wise old Parks in that single question, -for a professional actor never asks another professional -what he thinks of his make-up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Great!" responded Parks drily, but again there was -that look upon his face which Hampstead could not quite -interpret.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Five minutes!" was bellowed up the stairway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead drew on his coat of brilliant yellow, buckled -on his sword, and had opportunity to survey himself again -in the glass and bestow a few more touches to the face -before the word "overture", the call boy's final scream of -exultation, echoed through the dressing rooms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The corridor outside John's door was immediately filled -with the sound of trampling feet, of voices male and -female, some talking excitedly, some laughing nervously, -every soul aquiver with that brooding sense of the ominous -which sheds itself over the spirits of a theatrical company -upon a first night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Parks, with a final touch to his hair and a sidewise -squint at himself, turned and went out. The footsteps -and voices in the corridor grew fainter and then came -trailing back from the stairway like a chatterbox -recessional.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was quiet in the dressing rooms, except for a droning -from across the way, and John knew what that was; for -the sweet little ingenue had told him in a moment of -confidence: "On first nights I always go down on my knees -before I leave my dressing room." There she was now, -telling her beads.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall I pray, too?" he asked, and then answered -resolutely, "No! Let's wait and see what God'll do to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His throat was arid. His lips, from the drying spirit -gum and the excess of grease paint, were stiff and -unresponsive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Eternal Hammering is the Price of Success</em><span>" he muttered -thickly, trying to brace himself. "Now for a great -big swing with the hammer." But his spirits sagged -unaccountably, and he turned out into the corridor as if for a -death march.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this moment the area between the foot of the stairs -and the wings of the stage was a weaving mass of idling -scene-shifters, hurrying, nervous, property men, and a -horde of supernumeraries made up as American sailors, -Spanish soldiers, and Cuban natives. All was movement -and confusion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The principals had drifted to their entrances and taken -position in the order in which they would appear; but they -too were restless; nobody stood quite still; at every -movement, at every loud word, everybody turned or looked or -started. The hoarse voice of Halson and his assistant, -Page, repeatedly resounded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Hampstead descended the stairs upon this strange, -moving picture, it appeared to him to organize into a -ferocious, misshapen monster that meant him harm; or a -python coiling and uncoiling its gigantic, menacing folds. -The thing was argus-eyed, too, and every eye stabbed him -like a lance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Emerging upon the floor, John paused uncertainly -before this hostile wall of prying scrutiny. Somebody -snickered. A woman's voice groaned "My Gawd!" and -followed it with a hysterical giggle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Could it be that they were laughing at him? John felt -that this was possible; but he stoutly assured himself that -it was not probable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, just as his features passed under the rays of a -bunch light standing where it was to illumine with the -rays of the afternoon sun the watery perspective of a -jungle scene, he came face to face with the stage manager. -Halson darted one quick glance, and then a look of horror -congealed upon his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In the name of God!" he hissed huskily. "Hampstead, -what have you been doing to yourself?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Doing to myself?" exclaimed John, trying for one -final minute to fend off fate. "Why? What do you mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Halson's voice floated up in a half humorous wail of -despair, as he rolled his eyes sickly toward the flies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do I mean?" he whined. "The man comes -down here with his face daubed up like an Esquimaux -totem pole, and he asks me what do I mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Halson was interrupted by a sudden silence from -the front. The orchestra had stopped. The curtain was -about to rise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Page! Page!" groaned Halson in a frantic whisper, -"Hold that curtain! Signal a repeat to the orchestra! -Here, you!" to the call boy. "Run for my make-up box. -Quick!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John's knees were trembling, and he felt his cheeks -scalding in a sweat of humiliation beneath their blanket of -lurid grease, as Halson turned again upon him with:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You poor, miserable, God-forsaken amateur!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Amateur! There, the word was out at last, and it was -terrible. No language can express the volume of -opprobrium which Halson was able to convey in it. To -Hampstead it could never henceforth be anything but the most -profane of epithets. As a matter of fact, he was never -after able to hate any man sufficiently to justify calling -him an amateur.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While the orchestra dawdled, while the company of -"supers" crowded close, and the principals looked sneeringly -on from all distances, Halson made up the heavy's -face for the part he was to play, thereby submitting John -Hampstead to the bitterest humiliation of his dramatic -career.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet once engaged upon this work of artistry, the stage -manager's wrath appeared to soften. Half cajoling and -half pleading, he whined over and over again, "If you -had only told me, Mr. Hampstead! If you had only told -me, I would have helped you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I only had told him," reflected John, beginning all -at once to like Halson, and never suspecting that the man -in his heart was hating him like a fiend, and that his fear -that the amateur would go absolutely to pieces under the -strain of the night was the sole reason for soothing and -encouraging and commiserating him by turns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But now the orchestra grew still again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aw-right," husked Halson, and Hampstead heard that -ominous, sliding, rustling sound which to the actor is like -no other in all the world.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-demonstration-from-the-gallery"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A DEMONSTRATION FROM THE GALLERY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Every chair in the orchestra of the People's Theater -was taken; the boxes were occupied, and as for the odd -rectangular horseshoe of a gallery, with its advancing -arms reaching forward almost to the proscenium arch, -while its rearward tiers rose and faded into distance like -some vast enclosed bleachers, it seemed a solid mass of -humanity. The curtain rose on critical silence. The -repetition of the overture had given a hint that all was not -running smoothly, and at the first spoken word a jeer came -from the gallery. The actor stammered and made the -foolish attempt to repeat his words, but the attempt was -lost in a clamor of voices. Feet were stamped, hats were -waved, peanuts and popcorn balls were thrown. The -actors braced themselves and went on doggedly, but so did -the balconies, and it presently appeared that something -like a demonstration was in progress. Swiftly an -explanation of the great masses in the gallery and their -behavior was passed from mouth to mouth behind the -scenes. It said they were six hundred south-of-Market-Street -hoodlums who had been hired by a rival theatrical -manager to come and break up the performance. -Whether this was true, or whether the outbreak in the -gallery was merely the unsuppressible spirit of turbulent -youth, it stormed on like a simoon, gaining in volume as -it proceeded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a while the people down-stairs, having paid their -thirty cents to witness a theatrical performance, protested; -but they appeared soon to conclude that the show in the -gallery was the more worth while. Ceasing to protest, -they began to applaud the trouble-makers and even to abet -them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Behind the scenes panic reigned. The actors at their -exits bounded off, panting in terror, as if pelted by bullets. -Those whose cues for entrance came, snatched at them -excitedly, and like gladiators rushing into the arena, -plunged desperately upon the stage. The face of the -leading lady was white beneath her make-up as she almost -tottered upon the scene. Some instinct of chivalry led -the mob to desist for a minute while she delivered her -opening lines. But the demonstration broke out afresh -as the leading man entered, though he wore the uniform -of a lieutenant in the navy. His every speech was jeered. -The excitement grew wilder; not a word spoken upon the -stage was heard, even by the leader of the orchestra.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My God, what they will do to you, Hampstead!" exclaimed -Halson fiercely, as a detachment in the gallery -began to march up and down the aisle, the rhythm of their -heavy steps making the old house shiver like a ship in a -storm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet of all the actors trembling behind the scenes, it is -possible that Hampstead was the very coolest. He had -been the most perturbed, the most distraught; but this -counter-disturbance made his own distressing situation -forgotten. No eyes were riveted on him now. No -thoughts were on him and the terrible humiliation he had -publicly endured or the wretched failure he was going to -make. The best, the most experienced, were in the most -complete distress—clear out of themselves. The leading -man had become angry, had lost his lines, and did not -know what he was saying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stanley's lost; he's ad-libbing to beat the band," John -heard Page remark.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">Ad-libbing</em><span>! It was a new word. In the midst of all -this confusion, John took note of it and next day learned -of Parks that it was a stage-participle made from </span><em class="italics">ad -libitum</em><span>. An actor ad-libbing was an actor talking on and -on to fill space in some kind of a stage wait or because, as -with Stanley, he had forgotten his lines.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Neumeyer, the "angel", came in from the front and -added his white, agitated face to the awed groups standing -about the wings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They've lost half the first act," he groaned, through -chattering teeth. "Even when they wear 'emselves out, -the piece is ruined because the people down-stairs have -missed the key to the plot."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your cue is coming," bawled Page to John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't worry, though," croaked Halson in Hampstead's -ear, still fearful that his man would collapse. -"The piece is going so rotten you can't make it any worse. -Cut in!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But to his surprise, Hampstead's eye glinted with the -light of battle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Worry?" he exclaimed excitedly. "Watch me. -I'm going to get 'em!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Halson gazed in pure pity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Get 'em," he gutturaled. "You poor, God-forsaken -amateur!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the cue had come. Colonel Delaro, his sword clattering, -his buttons flashing, his tall figure aglow with color, -leaped through the entrance and took the center of the -stage—so clumsily that he trod on Stanley's favorite corn -and hooked a spur in the mantilla trailing from the arm of -Miss Constance Beverly, the mislaid daughter of a -millionaire yachtsman; but nevertheless, Hampstead was on. -He had seized the center of the stage and he filled it full, -as with an ostentatious gesture, he swept off his gold lace -cap before Miss Beverly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What star's this?" shrieked a voice on one side the -gallery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No star at all. It's a comet!" bawled a man from the -other side, cupping his hands to carry his second-hand wit -around the auditorium.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Spanish War was not then so far back in memory -that the sight of the uniform did not speedily kindle a -little popular wrath upon its own account, and the -demonstration began again and rose higher, but Hampstead -became neither flustered nor angry. He maintained his -character and his dignity. He remembered his speeches, -and delivered them in stentorian tones that sounded -vibrantly above the general clamor. When the gallery -discovered to its surprise that here was a voice it could not -entirely drown, it stopped out of sheer curiosity to see -what the voice was like and found it as attractive as it was -forceful. Moreover, there was a kind of special appeal -in it. It was the voice of a real man; if they had only -known it,—of a man at bay. He was not Colonel Delaro, -plotting against the liberty and affections of a lady. He -was John Hampstead, fighting,—with his back to the -wall,—fighting for his opportunity, for an accredited position -in this poor, cheap misfit company,—a position which -seemed to him just now the most desired thing in all the -world. Furthermore, he was fighting to justify his own -faith in himself and the faith of Dick and Tayna; yes, -and the faith of Bessie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead was, moreover, used to rough houses. He -had faced them more than once on his own barn-storming -one-night appearances.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The way to get an audience like this he knew was to -play it like a fish, to get the first nibble of interest and -then hold it motionless with the lure of some kind of -dramatic story. The situation called for a skilled, -dramatic </span><em class="italics">raconteur</em><span>, and in truth that was what -Hampstead was,—not an actor but a recitationist. Also his -talks in church circles had given him skill in extemporaneous -speaking. It happened that his speeches in this first -act completed the introduction of the plot, but they were -meaningless without a clear knowledge of what already -had been said. Now Hampstead began, at first instinctively -and then deliberately, as he played, to gather up -these lost lines of half a dozen actors and weave them into -his own. The fever of composition seized him. He used -the people on the stage like puppets. He made them help -him re-lay the plot while he struggled to grasp the -attention of the mass child-mind out there in front and enthrall -it with a story.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No better way could have been devised of making -Hampstead overcome his terrible faults of action and -delivery. With marvelous intensity came more repose. -His eyes had been changed by the deft hand of Halson till -they no longer looked like holes in a blanket; and he shot -out his speeches, never once in that rhythmic, preaching -tone, but rapidly, jerkily, plausible or menacing by turns, -but all the while convincingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Within a few minutes the audience was captured. It -lost its enthusiasm for riot and sat silent, following first -the story as Hampstead had retold it and then the action -which thereafter began to unfold. It was the sheer -strength of the personality of the man which made this -possible. In his strength, too, the other players took -courage; and soon the action was tightly keyed and -moving forward to a better conclusion of the act than any -rehearsal had ever promised.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the fall of the curtain, an avalanche leaped upon -Hampstead, an avalanche which consisted solely of -Halson. He seemed to have a thousand hands. He was -slapping John on the back with all of them, in fierce, -congratulatory blows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Man!" he exclaimed. "Man! You saved it! You -saved it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Neumeyer was capering about deliriously, while tears -of joy were trickling from his eyes. Others crowded -round: Stanley, who had the lead, amiable old Parks, -Lindsay, Bordwell, Miss Harlan, and the rest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The audience, too, was excitedly expressing itself with -hand-clappings and foot-stampings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Scatter!" bawled Page.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The stage swiftly cleared of people as the curtain began -to rise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Harlan!" Page was shouting. "Mr. Stanley! -Mr. Hampstead!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the order named, the three emerged and took their -calls, but the heartiest applause was for the big man in -yellow and red, who, quite ignoring the orchestra circle, -showed all his teeth in a cordial and understanding grin -to the galleries, which thereupon broke out in that -hurricane of hisses which is the heavy's hoped-for tribute.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Throughout the remainder of the performance, the yellow -and scarlet figure of Delaro, with his great, sweeping -gestures and his vast, bellowing voice, moved, a unique and -dominating figure; no doubt the first and last time in -which a villain who as a character was without one -redeeming quality was made the hero of the gallery gods.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With the final fall of the curtain, Hampstead climbed -to his dressing room, tired but gloriously happy. All the -company knew his shame, the shame of being an amateur; -but all, too, knew his power, the power of a man who -could rise to emergency, who had commanding presence -and constructive force.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The dressing rooms were mere partitions open at the -top, so that everybody could hear what everybody else was -saying, or could have heard, if only they had stopped to -listen. But apparently nobody listened. The strain was -over, and everybody talked as if the joy were in the -talking and not in being heard. Yet after the first few -minutes of excited blowing-off of steam, there came a lull, -as if all had stopped for breath at once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Into this lull, Dick Bordwell, the juvenile man, as he -wiped the grease paint from his face, lifted his fine tenor -voice in the first half of a queer antiphonal chant, by -inquiring loudly above his four wooden walls toward the -common ceiling over all:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Who is the greatest leading woman on the American -stage?</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Louise Harlan!" chanted every voice on the floor, -their tones mingling merrily, as if they were playing a -familiar game.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right-o," sang Dick, and chanted next: "</span><em class="italics">Who is -the greatest leading man on the American stage?</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Billie Stanley!" chorused the voices, with shrieks of -laughter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And who," inquired Dick, with an insinuating change -in his voice, "</span><em class="italics">who is the greatest juvenile man in -America?</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rich-a-r-r-r-d Bordwell!" screamed the magpies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right-o-right!" echoed Dick, with a grunt of -immense satisfaction; and then he went on piping his -interrogatories, as to the rest of the company, desiring to be -informed who was the greatest character old man, -character old lady, soubrette, light comedian and stage -manager, concluding yet more loudly with:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">And who is the greatest amateur heavy on the American -stage?</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As if they had been waiting for it, the voices burst out -like a college yell:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">John Hampstead! John Hampstead, is the greatest -amateur heavy on the American stage!</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The spirit of fun and hearty good will with which this -initiation ceremony had been performed was salve to the -bruised, excited soul of John. Besides an ever present -sense of meanness and hypocrisy from the concealment he -had practiced, John had suffered a feeling of extreme -loneliness that had at no time been so great as now, when, -the strain of the play over, all these children of the stage -were romping joyously together. Now they had included -him in the circle of their magic fellowship. True, they -had used the hateful word amateur, but that was in play, -and he was sure they would never use it again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And he was right—from that hour some of them who -liked him showed it; some who disliked him showed that; -some merely revealed themselves as cool toward him or -appeared ill at ease in his presence; but never one of them, -by word or act, failed from that moment to recognize his -standing as a man entitled to all the free masonry of -their unique and fascinating profession.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the climax of this climactic night for John was -reached when, descending the stairway, Halson honored -him with an astounding confidence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Marien Dounay joins the People's to-morrow," he -whispered excitedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fact!" he affirmed in response to John's look of sheer -incredulity. "She's a spitfire and a genius. She can do -what she likes. She's quarreled with Mowrey. She's -coming here to spite him. Pie for us while it lasts, huh? -She opens as Isabel in </span><em class="italics">East Lynne</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John knew that Mowrey had come up from Los Angeles -and was just opening a long season at the Grand Opera -House; but Marien Dounay—almost a star!—in that -thread-bare play, </span><em class="italics">East Lynne</em><span>, in this out-at-elbows -company, and in this old barn of a house! Impossible!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was what John was thinking, but he was too weak -to give it utterance. He wanted Halson's information to -be true whether it was or not. Yet in the midst of the -elation which began to kindle swiftly, he remembered what -Halson had said to Neumeyer on Saturday in the dark of -the orchestra: that a new man had been engaged to play -the heavies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A wave of bitterness surged over him; and yet, he -reflected, things must be changed. They would scarcely -let him go after to-night, so he mustered courage to -inquire:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By the way, Halson, what do I play in </span><em class="italics">East Lynne</em><span>?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You play the lead," affirmed Halson, with dramatic -emphasis.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The lead?" John gulped, struggling as if a cobblestone -had just been tossed into his throat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sure! You'll get away with it, too," declared the -stage manager with over-enthusiasm, slapping John -heavily upon the back as the big man turned away quickly, -utterly unwilling that any save two or three not there to -look should see into his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It would scarcely have diminished his joy to know that -he was getting the lead simply because Archibald Carlyle -was such an unredeemed mollycoddle that the leading man -usually chose to enact the villain, Levison.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-stage-kiss"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER X</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A STAGE KISS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>For the strange freak of Miss Marien Dounay in joining -The People's Stock Company, the papers found ready -explanation in artistic temperament. The brilliant young -actress, so the story ran, taking umbrage because Miss -Elsie McCloskey, twin star of the Mowrey cast, was -chosen to play a part for which Miss Dounay deemed herself -specially fitted, had resigned in a huff; and thereupon, -to spite Mowrey, had signed with this obscure stock -company playing a dozen blocks away, where it was believed -her popularity would be sufficient to punish the well-known -manager in his one vulnerable spot, the box-office.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But there was one person interested who did not care a -rap why Marien Dounay was playing Isabel Carlyle, the -wife of Archibald Carlyle at the People's Stock this week, -in the time-frazzled drama of </span><em class="italics">East Lynne</em><span>, and that was -the man to play Archibald. She was there, and that was -enough for him, swimming into his ken at the first -rehearsal like a vision of some glory too entrancing to belong -to anything but a dream.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Had she changed much in the four months since he -had held her in his arms? Not at all, unless to grow more -beautiful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet if that crude actor fancied himself on terms of more -than bare acquaintance with this exquisite creature, his -imagination presumed too far. Miss Dounay's bearing -made it instantly apparent that she gave herself airs. One -comprehensive glance was bestowed upon the semicircle -of the company. Hampstead's portion was more and less, -a look and a nod. The nod said: "I know you, puppet." The -look warned: "But do not presume. Stand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John stood, wondering. As rehearsals progressed, his -wonder grew into bewilderment. Miss Dounay treated -the whole company cavalierly, but she treated him disdainfully. -Her feeling for the others was simply negative; -for him it appeared to be positive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As an actress, it developed that she was "up" in the -part of Isabel, having played it many times. She had, -moreover, ideas of how every other part should be played -and was pleased to express them. Nobody protested, -Halson least of all. She was a "find" for the People's. As -a director, too, Miss Dounay was masterful. A languid -glance, a single word, a very slight intonation, had more -force than one of Halson's ranting commands. And she -was instinctively competent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead, despite his own sad experience, watched -her open-mouthed. This young woman, it appeared, was -an intellectual force as well as a magnetic one. She cut -speeches or interpolated them, altered business, and in one -instance rearranged an entire scene, while in another she -boldly reconstructed the conclusion of an act. The storm -center round which much of this cutting, slicing, and -fattening took place was Hampstead. She heckled him -unmercifully about the reading of his lines, ridiculed his -gestures, and badgered him to madness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the fourth day of this, John moped out of the -theater, head down, reflecting bitterly upon the illusory -character of woman, of which he knew so little,—moped -so slowly that Parks overtook him on the first -corner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This woman is a friend of yours," Parks proposed -tentatively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought she was," sighed Hampstead weakly, "but -she keeps cutting my speeches. By the end of the week, I -won't have any part left at all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Parks indulged a self-satisfied chuckle at the keenness of -his own discernment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't you see," he explained, "she's cutting the stuff -you do badly. She took away from you a situation in -which you were awkward and unreal. She changed that -scene around and left you with a climax in which you are -positively graceful as well as forceful. You'll get a big -hand in it. She studies you. I've watched her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Old man," blurted Hampstead, with sudden fervor, -"it would make me the happiest man in the world if I -thought that you were right. But you are wrong, and -her badgering has begun to get on my nerves. Say!" and -he interrupted himself to ask a question not yet answered -to his satisfaction. "Why is she here?—with the -People's, I mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You've heard the stories," answered Parks, with a -shrug. "However, I doubt if it's any mere whim. She -appears to me to have a cool, good reason for anything -she does."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Parks turns off at Ninth Street, and John moved on -down Market. "A cold good reason for what she does," -he murmured. "What's the answer, I wonder, to what -she does to me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the days went on, John's wonder grew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now it is according to the method of dramatists that -when a husband is to be abandoned by his wife in the -second act there shall be certain tender passages between -the two in the first act, and this ancient drama was no -exception. There were contacts, handclasps, embraces, -kisses. Through all of these at rehearsal time the two -went mechanically. Miss Dounay apparently treated -Hampstead with mere indifference, but actually she found -a thousand little ways to show utter repugnance. After -the first shock, John's combative instinct and his pride led -him to face this situation, so difficult for a gentleman, -unflinchingly. Taking her hands, pressing her to him, -patting her cheek, playing with the wisps of hair upon her -temple, he conscientiously rehearsed the part of the -affectionate, doting husband. His very sincerity, it would -seem, must have been a rebuke to the woman. She must -have seen that his heart was stirred by an unexplained -feeling toward her, and might have observed in his -determined bearing under the galling fire of her man-baiting -something noble.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here, if she could only perceive it, was a man who had -turned his back on at least one of the kingdoms of this -world to become an actor; a man who would endure -anything, suffer anything to add to his knowledge and skill in -that difficult and all demanding art; which, indeed, was -why he laid himself open to her polished ridicule by -over-playing every scene, overemphasizing every word, -over-expressing every gesture and emotion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she never relented, not even on the night of the first -performance. Instead she became more aggressive in her -antagonism, her method changing from subtle scorn to -open derision.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now among experienced actors there are a great many -things which may take place upon the stage unsuspected of -the audience. On this night, all through the tender -exchanges of that first act, Miss Dounay seized upon -intervals when her back was to the front to throw a grimace at -John,—to do, or </span><em class="italics">sotto voce</em><span> to say, something irritating or -ludicrous that would throw him out of character, or, as -the profession puts it, "break him up." John steeled -himself against all of this and went on playing with that -dignity of earnestness which seemed to characterize all -his life, until it would appear the climax of malice was -reached when, as Miss Dounay hung about his neck, she -laughed in the midst of one of his tenderest speeches, and -whispered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is a daub of smut on the end of your nose."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To John this communication was an arrow poisoned by -the subtle power of suggestion. Was there smut upon his -nose? If there were and he touched it with a finger, it -would smear and ruin his make-up. If he did not remove -it, the audience would observe it the first time he came -down stage and laugh. On the other hand, he did not -believe that there was smut upon his nose. How could it -get there? In no way unless some joker had doctored the -peephole in the curtain just before he peered out at the -audience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Smutted or not smutted? To touch his nose or let it -alone? That was the maddening question. The puzzle -and the doubt disconcerted him. His memory faltered, -his tongue stumbled, and a feeling of awful helplessness -came over him. He </span><em class="italics">was</em><span> breaking up! He </span><em class="italics">was</em><span> out of -character! This devilish woman had succeeded. She -saw it, too. John read the exultation in her eyes, and it -filled him with indignation until a wave of wrath surged -over his great frame like a storm. Miss Dounay saw his -eyes grow suddenly stern with a light she had never noticed -in them. One arm was encircling her in a caress, the -other hand rested upon her shoulders. For one instant -she felt this embrace tighten into a python grip that was -terrifying. The man's position had not changed. To the -audience it was still a mere pose, an expression of endearment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But to Marien Dounay it was an ominous hint that this -great amiable child had in him the primal elements of a -brutal strength. A look of alarm shot into her face, and -she whispered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't, John! Don't."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The tone of her voice was pleading. She, the proud, -had cringed. She had called him John. She had surrendered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was just a mean little fib," she whispered, and for -a moment clung to him helplessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, greatly surprised, was not too much surprised to -feel the exultant surge of victory. For one moment he -had lost control of himself, but in that moment he appeared -to have gained control of Marien.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The strangest thing was that Miss Dounay seemed -rather happy about it herself; and the wide range of the -woman's capacity was revealed by her swift transition to a -mood of purring contentment and a spirit of affectionate -camaraderie that presently reached a surprising climax.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The act ended in the garden, with Isabel seated on a -rustic bench, and Archibald bending over her. As the -curtain descended, he was to stoop and print a kiss of -tenderest respect upon her forehead. But now, as the -curtain trembled, Miss Dounay lifted not her forehead but her -lips, and held them, warm and clinging, to his for an -instant that to Hampstead seemed a delicious, thrilling -eternity, from which he emerged like a man newborn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the male instinct to gloat was the first clear thought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You do like me, don't you?" he breathed exultantly, -while the curtain was down for an instant. Marien -answered with her eyes and a quick affirmative nod, -before the curtain bounded upward again for a last picture -of husband and wife gazing into each other's eyes with a -look expressing an infinitude of fondness. But John had -ceased to be Archibald. What his look expressed was an -infinitude of mystery and joy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And they say there is no satisfaction in a stage kiss!" -he whispered to himself as he leaped up the stairs to his -dressing room.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="seed-to-the-wind"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">SEED TO THE WIND</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The next night Miss Dounay gave John her forehead -instead of her lips to kiss, but she heckled him no more, -and it was perfectly obvious to him, as to Parks, that she -helped him deliberately and had been helping him all along -by her stage direction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you've got her interested in you, you're fixed for -life," grumbled Parks wistfully. "That girl's going up -the line, and she's got stuff enough to take somebody else -with her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a suggestion in this which John resented.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm going up, too," he rejoined with the defiant -exuberance of youth, "but on my own steam."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Parks looked at John up and down, and laughed,—just -that and nothing more. The old man's frankness -was comforting at times; at others disagreeable. John -moved away irritated, and his head went up into the clouds -of his dreams. But there was something in what Parks -had suggested that kept coming back to his mind. True, -Miss Dounay never exchanged more than the merest -words of courtesy with John off the stage. But on the -stage and at rehearsal it really did seem as if there was a -very nice little understanding growing up between them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Off stage John dreamed of going to call upon her. In -his little room he thought of her much and hungrily. -That he should think hungrily was not strange, since he -was hungry. His salary was twenty dollars a week. To -send half to Rose, and save money to meet his wardrobe -bills, he lived on two meals a day. The morning meal, -taken at half-past nine, consisted of coffee and cakes, and -cost ten cents. The evening meal was taken at half-past -five. It was a grand course dinner that went from soup -to pie, and its cost was fifteen cents. The tip to the -waitress was a smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When one goes supperless to bed, dreams come lightly -and are fantastic. John's dreams were of banqueting -after the play with Marien Dounay. Greenroom gossip -had it that Marien lived royally but in modest thrift; -that her French maid, Julie, was also cook and -housekeeper; that Marian's disposition was domestic and yet -convivial. That instead of a supper down town in one -of the brilliant cafés, she preferred the seclusion of her -small but cozy apartment, and the triumphs of Julie at a -tiny gas grill, supplemented and glorified by her own -skill with the chafing dish. That there were nights when -she supped alone, but others when a lady or two, or much -more likely a gentleman, or mayhap two gentlemen were -honored with invitations to this feast of goddesses; for -tiny, efficient, ambidextrous Julie was in her way as much -of an aristocrat as her mistress, and as skillful in -imparting the suggestion that she was herself of some -superior clay. Subject to the whims of her mistress, she, -too, had whims, and made men—and women—not only -respect but admire them. Rumor said that if an invitation -to one of these midnight revels with toothsome food -under the personal direction of this flashing beauty ever -came, it was on no account to be despised, especially if a -man were hungry either for beauty or for food.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John Hampstead was hungry for food, and now he -began to feel hungry also for beauty. This last was -really a new appetite. John, through all his struggling -years, had of course his thoughts of woman as all men -have, but vaguely, as something a long way off, -indefinitely postponed. Yet ever since he carried Lygia -in his arms, these thoughts of woman had been recurring -as something nearer, more tangible, and more necessary -even. As for that kiss in the garden scene of </span><em class="italics">East -Lynne</em><span>! Well, there was something wonderfully -awakening in that kiss. It was worlds different from that -brotherly, sympathetic little kiss he had given Bessie -yonder upon the rocks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the way,—why did Bessie cry? He used to -wonder sometimes why she did! And why did Marien -Dounay taunt him till he was angry enough to beat -her,—and then kiss him?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Women were hard to understand. They seemed to -do things that had no meaning; to use words not to -convey but to conceal thought; and they spoke half their -speeches in riddles. However, John reflected that when -he had been with women more, he would know them -better. And in the meantime he supplemented his -professional contacts with Marien by thinking of her -constantly, even to the point where his absorbing interest -led him to follow her home at night after the play,—keeping -always at a safe distance behind,—and to stand -across the street and watch till the light went on in that -third-story bay-window on Turk Street near Mason; and -then still to stand, trying to interpret the meaning of -shadows moving across the window for uncounted hours, -till the light went out, sometimes at two and sometimes -later, or until a policeman bade him move on. If any -one had told John that he was falling in love with Marien -Dounay, he would have indignantly rejected the idea. -She held a fascinating interest for him,—that was all. -Something basic in him was attracted by something basic -in her, and he yielded to it wonderingly, experimentally -almost, and that was all it amounted to.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But on the night that Miss Dounay completed her -engagement at the People's, for her tiff with Mowrey was -over in just four weeks, the opportunity came to John to -submit his feelings to more searching experimentation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It had been his custom to wait in the shadowy wings -each night to see the object of his solicitous interest -depart, supposing himself always to be unobserved. But -on this last night Marien surprised him into nervous thrills -by walking over into the shadow with the cool assurance -of an autocrat, and saying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come home to supper with me, John."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the same time Miss Dounay took the big man's arm -as comfortably as if the matter had been arranged the -week before last, and John walked out as if on air, but -hurriedly. That soft touch upon his arm made him -hungry with indescribable anticipations. Moreover, he -was stirred by an itching curiosity concerning the whole -of the intimate personal life of Marien Dounay. Who -was she? What was she? </span><em class="italics">How</em><span> was she?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet on the very threshold of the little apartment, his -sense of what was conventional in the world out of which -he had come halted him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Should I?" he asked huskily, as the door stood -open. "Would it be—proper?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Most particularly proper, innocent!" laughed Marien. -"At the theater Julie is my maid; at home she is my -housekeeper, my social secretary, my companion, and -chaperone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While the light of reassurance kindled on John's face, -Marien gently drew him inside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Behold!" she exclaimed with a stage gesture, when -the door was closed behind him. "My temporary home; -my balcony window overlooking the street, my alcove -wherein I sleep, the kitchenette in which we cook; -behind that the bath, and back of that Julie's own room. -Isn't it dear?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear!" That was a woman's word. Bessie said -that about her invitation paper for the Phrosos.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear?" he breathed, comparing it in one swift estimating -glance to his own barren cell. "It's a paradise!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So much more seclusion than in hotels," declared -Marien, and then went on to say in that sort of tone -which belongs to an air of frank and simple -comradeship: "So much less expensive, too. Do you know -what saves a girl in this business? Money! Ready -money. And do you know what ruins her? -Extravagance—debt. We are very economical, Julie and I. -We have what crooks call 'fall money', laid by for any -emergency. That's what you'll need to do. Save half -your salary every week. There'll be weeks you don't -play, weeks when you have to go to expense. You may -be ill or have an accident, or your company will close -unexpectedly. Save. Save your money!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marien uttered these bits of practical wisdom, which -were to John the revelation of an unthought-of side of -this exquisite young woman's character while she was -conducting him toward the window.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit here," she commanded. "Look straight down -Turk. See the lights battling with the fog. Listen to -the waning music of the night in this noisy, cobbly, clangy -city. Don't turn your head till I say!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The lights were indeed beautiful, each with its halo -of mist. The clanging bells of cars, and even the horrible -squeak of the wheels as they turned a curve, with the -low singing of the cables that drew them, did rise up -like the orchestration of some strange new motif of the -night that lulled him till he was only faintly conscious -of the opening and closing of doors and a rustling at the -other end of the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now!" called the voice of Marien cheerily, -awakening him with a sudden thrill to the realization of her -presence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She stood at the far end of the room, surveying -herself in a long mirror. Her figure was draped rather -than dressed in a silken, shimmering texture of black, -splashed with great red conventional flowers. The -garment flowed loosely at neck, sleeves, and waist, and the -fabric was corrugated by a succession of narrow, -vertical, unstitched pleats, which gave an illusory effect of -yielding to every movement of the sinuous body and yet -clinging the closer while it yielded. As John gazed, -Marien belted this flowing drapery at the waist with a -knot of tiny crimson cord, and then released her coils -of rich dark hair so that they fell to her hips in a -fluttering cascade as silky as the texture of her robe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When she advanced to him, the shimmering, billowy -movements of the gown matched the rhythmic sway of her -limbs as completely as the red splashes upon it matched -the color of her cheeks. She came laughing softly, and -bearing in her hand a pair of tiny red and gold slippers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A low divan ran along one side of the room, piled -high with gay cushions. Near the foot of it was a Roman -chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit here," said Marien, indicating the chair; and -John, as if obeying stage directions, complied, while his -hostess sank back luxuriously amid the cushions and by -the same movement presented a slim, neatly booted foot -upon the edge of the divan, so very near to the big man's -hand as to embarrass him. At the same time she held -up the slippers to his notice and observed with a nod -toward the boot:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As a mark of special favor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment John's face reddened, and he looked the -awkwardness of his state of mind, his eyes shifting from -the boot to Marien's face and back again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her face took on an amused smile, and the boot wiggled -suggestively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh," exclaimed John, blushing with fresh confusion -at his own dullness as he bent forward and began to -struggle with the buttons of the boot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You see," he explained presently, still worrying with -the combination of the first button, "you see—well, I -guess I don't know women very well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marien laughed happily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stage women!" John added, as if by an afterthought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stage women," affirmed Marien loyally, "are no -different from other women—only wiser." Then she -tagged her speech sententiously with, "They have to be. -Careful! You will tear the buttons off. And -you—you are pinching me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I beg your pardon," stammered John. "But there -are so very many of these buttons."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After an interval during which Marien had appeared -to watch his labors with amused interest, she asked, with -mocking humor:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you hurrying or delaying? I can't quite make out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But John was by this time enjoying the to him novel -situation, and merely chuckled happily in reply to this -thrust. When the shoes were off, by a mystifying -movement Marien snuggled first one stockinged foot and then -the other into the gold embroidered slippers and with a -sigh of contentment appeared to float among her pillows, -while she contemplated with smiling attention the face of -Hampstead. Presently she asked smiling:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you a man or a boy, I wonder?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Feeling himself drifting farther and farther under the -personal spell of this magnetic woman, and entirely willing -to be enthralled, John answered her only with his eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's the Ursus look," she laughed softly, as if it -pleased her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A silver cigarette case was on a tabaret within reach of -her hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have a cigarette!" she proposed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John declined, a trifle embarrassed by the proffer. Miss -Dounay lighted one and puffed a small halo above her -head before she looked across at him again and asked -quizzically:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You do not smoke?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I do not think women should," Hampstead -replied, with level eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a horrid habit," she confessed, "but this -business will drive women to do horrid things. Listen, -Hampstead. It's hard for a man; you've found that out, -and you're only beginning. It's harder for a woman; -the despairs, the disappointments, the bitter -lonelinesses,—the beasts of men one meets! But—" With a shrug -of her shoulders she suddenly broke off her train of -thought, and turning an inquiring glance on Hampstead -asked:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You never smoked?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes," confessed John, "but I quit it. I decided -it would not be good for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She regarded him narrowly, and asked:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You would not do a thing which did not appear good -for you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was just a little accent on the "good."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have tried to calculate my resources," John -confessed, resenting that accent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again Miss Dounay contemplated him in silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are a singularly calculating young man, I should -say," she decreed finally. "And how long, may I ask, -have you been living this calculating life?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marien was making a play upon his word "calculate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Seven years, I should say," replied John, thinking -back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Seven years?" she mused. "Seven! And you feel -that it has paid?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Immensely," replied John aggressively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By the way, how old are you, Ursus?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was what the old actor had asked. People were -always asking John how old he was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Twenty-five," John answered a trifle apologetically. -"I got started late. And you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The question was put without hesitation, as if it were -the next thing to say.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A man does not ask a woman her age in polite -conversation," suggested Marien tentatively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He does not," replied John quickly, "if he thinks the -answer is likely to be embarrassing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marien's face flushed with pleasure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, hear him!" she laughed. "This heavy man is -not so heavy, after all; but," she added, with another -insinuating inflection, "he is always calculating." Then -she went on, "You are right. The confession to you at -least is not embarrassing. I am twenty-four years old, -and I, too, have been living a calculating life for seven -years."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For seven years. How odd!" remarked John, rather -excited at discovering even a slight parallel between -himself and this brilliant creature.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," Marien replied. "I ran away from home at -sixteen. I have been on the stage eight years. The -first year was a careless one. The other seven have -been—</span><em class="italics">calculating</em><span> years."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John could think of no words in which to describe the -sinister significance which Marien now managed to get -into her drawling utterance of that word "calculating." She -made it express somehow the plotting villainies of an -Iago, of a Richard the Third and a Lady Macbeth, and -then overlaid the sinister note with something else, an -impression of lofty abandon, of immolation, as if, in -calculating her life, she had laid upon the altar all there was -of herself—everything—in order to attain some supreme end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, staring at her, got a sudden intuitive gleam of -a woman who was not only ambitious as he was ambitious, -but wildly, dangerously ambitious, with a danger that -was not to herself alone, but to any who stood near -enough to be trampled on as she climbed upward,—dangerous -to one who might love her, for example!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He got the thought clearly in his mind, too; yet only -for a moment, and to be crowded out immediately by -another thought, or indeed, a succession of thoughts, all -induced by the picture she made amid her cushions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How beautiful she was! How very, very beautiful! -And how magnetic! How she had made the blood run -in his veins when she lay upon his breast as Lygia, their -hearts beating, their souls stirring together!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And now she had resigned herself for an hour to his -company, had given him her confidence, was awaiting, as -it seemed, his pleasure,—while the color came and went -in her cheeks, while subdued lights danced in the dark -pools beneath lazily drooping lashes, and the filmy gown -which sheathed her body stirred with every breath as if a -part of her very self.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lying there like this, her presence ceased soon to -induce thoughts and began to stimulate impulses. -Hampstead longed to reach out and lay a hand upon her. She -was so alluring and so, so helpless.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For weeks now he had allowed himself to dream of -her as possibly the woman of his destiny,—not admitting -it, but still dreaming it. Here in his presence, she -suddenly ceased to be even a woman. She was just Woman; -and the primal attraction of the elemental man is not for -the woman. Fundamentally, it is just for woman. And -here was Woman, the whole race of woman, beautiful, -bewitching, compulsive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An odor began to float in from the kitchenette, an odor -that was not of coffee and cakes, nor of grease upon the -top of a range in a dirty little restaurant. It was savory -and fragrant, and it filled his nostrils. It reminded him -of all the appetizing meals he had ever eaten. It made -him hungry with all the hungers he had ever known; his -brain was reeling; he was going to faint,—and with mere -appetite. Yet the appetite was not for food.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a kind of shock he recognized the nature of his -appetite. The shock passed; but the hunger remained. -John felt that he himself was somehow changed. He -was not the Chairman of the Prayer Meeting Committee -of the Christian Endeavor Society, not a Deacon of the -grand old First Church. He was instead the man that -the Reverend Charles Thompson Campbell feared for and -prayed for. He was the man whose heavy ridged brows -had indicated to the shrewd old actor a nature packed full -of racial dynamite.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Woman was fulminating the dynamite. Deliberately—or -recklessly—or innocently; but none the less -surely. Her lips were pliant. Her form was plastic. The -smouldering light in the eyes, the lashes drooping lazily, -the witchery of a dark tress which coiled upon the white -soft shoulder, all combined in the appeal of physical -charm. To this, Woman added the subtle, maddening -witchery of silence,—breathing, watchful, waiting quiet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This silence continued until it became oppressive, -explosive even.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Would she not speak? He could not. Would she not -move? He dared not.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As if in response to this frenzy of thought, the ripe lips -parted in a smile that added one more lovely detail to the -picture by revealing rows of pearly, even teeth, and her -hand began to move toward him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't touch me—don't," he found himself pleading -suddenly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But already the hand was laid tenderly upon his own, -and Hampstead returned the clasp like one who holds the -poles of a battery and cannot let go.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Laughing softly, Woman drew Man gently to her, his -eyes gazing fascinated into the depths of hers, his body -bending weakly, nearer and nearer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John!" she breathed softly, "John!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But at the first warmth of breath upon his cheek, the -explosion came. He snatched her in his arms as if she -had been a child, and pressed her to his heart rapturously, -but violently. And then his lips found hers, vehemently, -almost brutally, as if he would take revenge upon them -for the passion their sight and touch had roused in him. -She struggled, but he pressed her tighter and tighter, till -at length she gave up, and he felt only the rhythmic -pulsing of her body.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When at length he released the lips and held the face -from him to gaze into it fondly, her eyes were closed, and -the head fell limply over his arm with the long tresses -sweeping to the floor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In sudden compunction he placed her tenderly upon -the divan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have hurt you, Marien; I have hurt you. Forgive -me; oh, forgive me!" he implored in tones of deep feeling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When she remained quite motionless, he asked, foolishly, -"Marien, have you fainted?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Slowly her bosom rose with a respiration so deep and -long that it seemed to stir every fold of her pleated gown -and every cushion on the divan, while with the eyes still -closed the face moved gently from side to side to convey -the negative.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank God!" he groaned, dropping to his knees beside -her, where, seizing her hand, he began to press his -kisses upon it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently disengaging the hand, Marien lifted it, felt -her way over his face and began to push back the towsled -mop of hair from his brow, and to stroke it affectionately.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought I had hurt you," he crooned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You did," she murmured.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I am so, so sorry," he breathed, seizing her hand -once more and pressing it against his heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not think I am sorry," she sighed contentedly, -and was still again, the lashes lying flat upon her cheeks, -the long tresses in disarray about her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lying there so white and motionless, she looked to John -like a crushed flower. Her very beauty was broken. As -he gazed, remorse and contrition overcoming him, her lips -parted in a half smile while she whispered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The—the calculated life cannot always be depended -upon, can it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Innocently spoken, the words came to John with the -force of a reproach, which hurt all the more because he -was sure no reproach had been meant. She had trusted -him, and he had failed. His sense of guilt was already -strong. At the words he leaped up and rushed toward -the hat-tree upon which his hat and coat had been -disposed. Yet before he could seize them and start for the -door, Marien was before him, barring his way, looking -pale but majestic, like a disheveled queen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me go," he said stubbornly. "I am unworthy to -be here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stay," she whispered, in a tone sweeter, tenderer, -than he had ever heard her use before. "It is my wish. I -do not," and she hesitated for a word, "I do not -misunderstand you—poor, lonely, hungry man!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Supper, Madame!" piped the voice of Julie.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-thing-incalculable"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A THING INCALCULABLE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>One whole month passed before John sat again at -midnight in the Roman chair with Marien </span><em class="italics">vis-à-vis</em><span> upon her -heaped-up cushions. Many things may happen in a -month. Many did in this. For John it was a month of -progress in his art. Though the People's Stock Company -had passed out of existence within two weeks after Marien -Dounay's departure from it, John had done so well that -he found no difficulty in securing an engagement as heavy -man across the bay in Oakland with the Sampson Stock, -the grade of which was higher and its permanency well -established.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was also a month of progress in his passion for -Marien Dounay, although during all those thirty days -he did not see her once. In the meantime imagination -fed him. Every memory of that night and every deduction -from those memories fanned the flame of his infatuation. -Each in itself was slight, but they were like a -thousand gossamer webs. Once spun, their combined holding -power was as the strength of many cables.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Take, for instance, the environment in which he found -her. It spoke gratifyingly to him of a genuinely good, -modest nature to see that she shrank away from the garish -theatrical hotels to this quiet nest with Julie. It revealed -a true woman's instinct for domesticity not only surviving -but flourishing in this vagabond life to which her -profession compelled her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And yet how unlike the life of the fine women he had -known in the old First Church. It would have so shocked -them,—this roving, Bohemian life that turned the night -into day, the deep-sleep time from twelve to three into -the leisure, happy, carefree hours that were like the sun -at noon instead of the dark of midnight. How -unbecoming it would have been in those coddled home-keeping -women of the First Church, this reversal of life,—how -immoral even! Yet to her it was natural. In her -it was moral. It did pay a proper respect to those -conventions which protect the character and happiness of -woman. It was not prudish. It was better than prudish, -it was good. Her virtue was not forced. It was hardy, -indigenous, self-enveloping. Yes, this whole mode of -life became her in her profession.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And the thought that he was of her profession threw -him into raptures. Hers was a life into which he could -enter,—had entered already, by reason of the favor she -had shown him. What could that favor mean? Nothing -else but love. She had given him too much, forgiven him -too much in that one evening for him to question that at all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And he loved her! Doubt on that score had vanished -so many days ago that he could not remember he had ever -doubted it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That the partnership could not at first be equal, he was -humiliatingly aware; but the development of his own -powers would soon balance the inequality. However, it was -something else that for the moment wiped out of mind the -enormity of his presumption, and this was that memory -of unpleasant experiences at which she had hinted. The -thought of this beautiful, ambitious, devoted creature -battling her way alone among selfish, brutal, designing -men was maddening to him. The chivalrous impulse to -be with her, to protect her, to battle for her, made him -forget entirely considerations of inequality, and he -prepared to offer himself boldly. If she did not invite him -again soon, he meant to seek her out; but the invitation -came before his processes had reached that stage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John was impatiently prompt. His eyes leaped upon -her eagerly as if to make sure she was still real, still the -flesh and blood confirmation of his passion. She was,—not -a doubt of it. Her eye was bright; the clasp of her -hand was warm. Her personal power was never more -evident, its whimsical manifestations never more varied, -interesting, or captivating than now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To John, no longer quite so hungry, for his salary was -larger now, that supper was not so much a meal as a series -of delightful additions to his impressions of the finer -side of the character of Marien. But with the supper -despatched, and his beautiful hostess again lolling in -luxurious relaxation, it was her personality once more rather -than her character which began to play upon him like an -instrument with strings. Lazily she brooded and mused, -talked and was silent, drifting from momentary vivacities -to periods of depressed abstraction. Again and again -John felt her eyes upon him scrutinizingly, estimatingly -almost, it seemed to him. Because it was a supremely -blissful experience to submit himself thus to the play of -her moods, John postponed the declaration he felt -impelled to make until it burst from him irresistibly, like a -geyser.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Listen!" he broke out excitedly, and began to pour -out impetuously the tale of his swiftly ripened infatuation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marien did listen at first as if surprised, and then with -a flush of pleasure that steadily deepened on her cheeks. -Even when he had concluded she sat for a moment with -lips half parted, eyes half closed, and an expression of -enchantment upon her face as if listening to music that she -wished might flow on forever.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do not speak!" John protested suddenly, as her -expression appeared to change. "The picture is too beautiful -to spoil. Let me take from your lips in silence the -kiss that seals our betrothal."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Marien held him off with sudden strength.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Marien, I love you. I love you," he protested vehemently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," Marien replied, lifting herself higher amid the -pillows and speaking alertly as if she had just been given -words to answer. "You do not love me. You love the -thing you think I am."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John's blond brows were lifted in mute protest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Listen!" she exclaimed. "You compelled me to -listen. Now I must compel you to listen—mad, impetuous -man!" and she seemed almost resentful. "In what you -have just been saying, you have written a part for me. -You have given me a character. If I could play that part -always, I should be what you are in love with, and you -would love me always; but I cannot play it always; I can -play it seldom. I play it now for an hour and then -perhaps never again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never again?" Hampstead gasped, something in the -finality of her tone thrilling him through with a hollow, -sickening note.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her eyelids narrowed as she replied: "You forget -that I, too, live the calculating life."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was again that mysteriously sinister meaning in -her utterance of the word "calculating."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The key to my life is not love; it cannot be love," she -went on. "I am not the purring kitten you have -described. It angers me to have you think so. I am not -a thing to love and fondle. I am a tigress tearing at one -object. I am," and in the vehement force of her -utterance she seemed to grow tall and terrible, "I am an -ambitious woman! An unscrupulous, designing, clambering, -ambitious woman!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I love you, Marien," John iterated weakly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is no place for love in the calculating life," she -rejoined unhesitatingly. "Love is a thing incalculable." Yet -as she uttered this sentence, her tone softened, and -her eyes had a look of awe and hunger oddly mixed in -them; but immediately the expression of resolute -ambition succeeded to her features.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When I am at the top," she proposed loftily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But the better part of life may be gone then," John -protested bitterly. "The top! When shall we reach the top?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall reach it in a bound when my opportunity -comes," Marien answered with cool assurance. "Nobody, -not even myself, knows how good I am. Any night -some man may sit in front who has both the judgment -to see and the money to command playwrights, theaters, -New York appearances to order. When they come, I -shall conquer. Oh," and her eyes sparkled while she -shivered with a thrill of self-gratulation, "it is wonderful -to feel the great potential thing inside of you, to know -that your wings are strong enough to fly and you only -wait the coming of the breeze. It is dazzling, intoxicating, -to think that within three months I may be a Broadway -star; that within a year the whole English-speaking -world may recognize that a new queen of the emotional -drama and of tragedy has been crowned. Until that -hour," and she lowered her voice as she checked the -exaltation of her mood, "until that hour a lover would be a -millstone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," exulted John, "you are not at the top yet. I -may arrive first!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marien looked him up and down and laughed, just -laughed,—about the look and laugh that Parks had given him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead's eager face flushed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You do not think that possible," he challenged aggressively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, dear boy," replied the woman, her tone and -manner swiftly sympathetic, "I know it is not possible. -You do not realize how far you have to go. If you -have genius, you do not show it. You have talent, -temperament, intelligence, application; these may win for -you, but the way will be long and the compensation -uncertain. If you persist for ten, fifteen, maybe twenty -years, till some of your exuberance has died, till -experience has rounded you off, till you have learned from -that great big compelling teacher out there in front, the -audience, what is art and what is not; while you may -not be accounted a great star, yet the world will -recognize your craftsmanship and concede you a place of -eminence upon the stage, a position well worth occupying, -but one for which you will pay long years before you get it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But our love," John protested helplessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who said 'our love,'" Marien declaimed almost -petulantly. "I have not confessed to any love."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But—but," and John's eyes opened widely, "you -would not permit—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I did not permit," she flashed. "You took, and I -forgave because I told you I could understand. Can you -not, blind man, also understand? If man is sometimes -man, will not woman also sometimes be woman?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did it mean—no more than that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John's eyes searched hers accusingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her answer was to scorn to answer. She made it -seem that she was dismissing him, exactly as any -heartless woman might dismiss a favorite who had amused -her for an hour, but whose antics and cajoleries had now -begun to pall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dazed and dumb, Hampstead seemed to feel his way -backward toward the door, where Julie came mysteriously, -unsummoned, to help him on with his coat and -thrust his hat into his hand. When John turned for a -last look, Marien's back was turned, and though the head -was bowed and the side of the face half concealed, he -thought he saw a look of agony upon it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Marien," he murmured hoarsely, with sudden emotion. -"Marien!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But on the instant she raised her face to him, and it -was the old face, wonderful and witching, beaming with -a happy, cordial smile as she laid her hand in his without -a sign of restraint of any sort. The very heartlessness -of it completed his bewilderment. Did the woman not -know that she was breaking his heart? It killed his -hope; it cowed him and threw him into a sullen mood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-by, Miss Dounay," he said huskily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her eloquent eyes shot him a look in which reproach -and tenderness mingled, while her hand pulsed quickly -like a heart beating in his palm. What mood of sullenness -could withstand that look? Not his. He smiled, -as if a ray of sunshine played upon his face, and amended -with:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good night, Marien."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-by, John," she answered sweetly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The door was closed behind him before John realized -that with all her sweetness, she had said good-by, and -the emphasis was on the "by."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the corner the bewildered man turned and looked -up. He could see the lace curtain at the window, but he -could not see the pillows on the divan quivering with -sobs from a soft burden that had flung itself among -them when the door was closed.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-scene-played-out"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE SCENE PLAYED OUT</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Marien Dounay loved him, but for the sake of her -own ambition was trying to kill that love. This was -the explanation which the sleepless, tossing hours fed -again and again into John Hampstead's mind until he -accepted it as the demonstrated truth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As for himself, he could no more have killed his love -for Marien than he could have killed a child. He -determined deliberately to match his will against hers and -break it; to see her again immediately, to meet her -arguments with better arguments, her firm rejections with -firmer affirmations; to melt her resolution with an appeal -to her heart; in short, and by some means not now -clear, to overmaster her purpose for the sake of her own -happiness as well as his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But a thought of Bessie Mitchell came crowding in. -Now this was not altogether strange, since John had -half-consciously cherished the notion that he would some -day love Bessie, and he reflected now that she must have -had a feeling of the same sort toward himself. Perhaps -this was why she cried that day upon the rocks; perhaps, -too, that was why he kissed her, for he was beginning -now to understand some things better than he -had before. Conscience demanded therefore that he -write Bessie a tactful letter which, while vague and -general, would yet somehow reveal the tremendous change -in the drift of his affections.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just that much, however, was going to be hard—a -brutal piece of work—to merely hint that some other -woman might be coming more intimately into his life -than this trustful, jolly-hearted companion. But it was -honest and it must, therefore, be done.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead summoned grimly all his resolution and -dipped his pen in ink.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear Bessie," he wrote, and then his pen stopped, -and an itching sensation came into the corners of his -eyes and a lump into his throat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently he laid the pen down as resolutely as he had -taken it up. He could not write Bessie out of his life, -after all; at least not like that. Instead he wrote a letter -that was a lie, or that started out to be a lie; but the -surprising thing to Hampstead was that while he wrote, -visioning Bessie at home in Los Angeles, rose-embowered, -or walking to school beneath rows of palms, he was -himself transported to Los Angeles, and the letter was not -false. He was back again in the old life, and Bessie was -an interesting and necessary part of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet he found he could not seal himself into the old -life when he closed the flap of the envelope. The -moment the letter was mailed, his mind went irresistibly -back to Marien, whom it was a part of his plan to see -that very day. This was possible because Mowrey -rehearsals were long and somewhat painful affairs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hurrying from the Sampson Stock, at the end of his -own rehearsal, John was able to cross the bay and reach -the Grand Opera House while Mowrey's people were -still wearily at work, and to make his way apparently -unseen through the huge, gloomy auditorium to a box -which was deep in shadow, as boxes usually are at -rehearsal time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marien was "on", and the big fellow's heart leaped -at the sound of her voice; yet presently it stood still -again, for his jealous ear had detected a disquieting note -in her utterance, a sort of cajoling purr which the lover -recognized instantly. It was not Marien Dounay in -rehearsal, nor yet in "character"; it was Marien herself -when in her most ingratiating mood, and was meant -neither for the rehearsal nor for the character, but for -the actor who played the opposing rôle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Who, by the way, was this handsome man, with the -rare, low voice that combined refinement and carrying -power, so absolutely sure of himself, whose every move -betokened the seasoned, accomplished actor, and who -displayed to perfection those very graces which John -himself hoped some day to exhibit?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the box in front of Hampstead was another ghostly -figure, also watching the rehearsal. John reached -forward and touched him on the shoulder, whispering -hollowly: "Who is the new leading man?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Charles Manning of New York," was the reply; -"specially engaged for this and three other rôles."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," said John, swallowing hard, for now -he understood perfectly the disagreeable meaning of those -cajoleries. They represented just one more element in -Marien Dounay's calculating life. This New York -actor might go back and drop the word that would bring -her opportunity, the thing her vaulting ambition coveted -more than it coveted love. Therefore she was taking -deliberate advantage of these situations to kindle a -personal interest in herself, for which, once her object was -gained, she would refuse responsibility as heartlessly as -she had tried to reject the big man who just now started -so violently as he watched her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Look at that now! The stage direction had required -Manning to take Marien in his arms for a minute. -Hampstead ground his teeth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, why didn't they separate? What was she clinging -to him so long for? Why, indeed, if it were not -for this same reason that to John, stewing in jealous -rage, seemed despicable and base. This was not nice; -it was not womanly; it was not a true reflection of -Marien's character. It was, he assured himself hotly, -one of the things from which he must save her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he had no opportunity to begin his work of salvation -that afternoon, for rehearsal ended, Marien walked -out with Charles Manning so closely in her company -that Hampstead could not so much as catch her eye, and -his emotions were in such a riot that he dared not trust -himself to accost her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When John had walked the streets for an hour, with -the storm of his feelings rising instead of settling, he -resolved upon a note to Marien and went to the office -of the </span><em class="italics">Dramatic Review</em><span> to dispatch it.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Dear Marien," he wrote. "I must see you to-night. -I will call at twelve. JOHN."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The brevity of this communication was deliberately -calculated to express his headlong mood and the depths -of his determination. He had not asked an answer, but -waited for one, assuring himself that if none came he -would call just the same. Yet the answer was ominously -prompt. John tore it open with brutal strength and saw -Marien's handwriting for the first time. It was vigorous -and rectangular, but unmistakably feminine, and there -was neither salutation nor signature.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Stupid!" the note began abruptly. "I saw you in -the box to-day. I will not have you spying upon me. -You must not call. I have tried to make you understand. -Why can you not accept the situation? Or are -you mad enough to compel me to stage the scene and play -it out for you?"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>John read the note twice, crumpled it in his hand, -and walked slowly down Geary Street to Market and -down Market Street to the ferry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the second act that night he forgot to take on the -knife with which he was to stab his victim, and nearly -spoiled the scene, through having to strangle him -instead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Stage the scene and play it out for you?</em><span>" What -could she mean by that.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Determined to find out, John hurried from the theater -at the close of the performance, with his lips pursed -stubbornly, and at exactly twelve o'clock Julie was answering -his ring at the door of the little apartment on Turk -Street.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah!" she exclaimed, smiling cordially. "It is the -big man again. No, Madame is not in. She is having -supper out to-night. With whom? La! la! I should -not tell you that," and Julie shrugged one shoulder only, -after a way of hers, and made a movement to close the -door; but something in John's eyes induced her to add, -with both sympathy and chiding in her tone: "You -must not come to see Madame when Madame does not -want you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I must see her, Julie!" John pleaded huskily, -rather throwing himself upon the mercy of the little -French woman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Julie gazed at him doubtfully. She had fended off -the attentions of many an importunate suitor from her -beautiful mistress but never one who engaged at once -so much of her sympathy and respect as he. In her -mind she was weighing something; reflecting perhaps -whether it was not kindness to this big, earnest man to -let his own eyes serve him. Her decision was evidently -in the affirmative.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you go quickly to the entrance of Antone's," she -suggested hurriedly, "you will see Madame arriving -presently in an automobile."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Stubborn as John was in his purpose, he nevertheless -flushed that even Julie could think him capable of -standing at the door of a French restaurant at midnight -waiting to catch a glimpse of the woman he loved in the -company of another man. Yet pride was so completely -swallowed up in jealousy and passion that another five -minutes found him loitering before the entrance to -Antone's, resolving to go, to stay; to look and not to look; -feeling now weakly ashamed of himself and now meanly -resolute.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The place was half underground, with a gilded and -illumined entrance that yawned like the mouth of a -monster. John was sure from its outward look that -Antone's was no more than half respectable. The fragrance -of the food which assailed his nostrils was, he felt equally -sure, an expensive fragrance. A meal there would cost -as much as a week of meals where he was accustomed -to take his food. Manning, of course, had a fine -salary. He could afford to take Marien for an -automobile ride and to Antone's for supper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead's envious rage flamed again at this thought, -but at the moment the flash of a headlight in his eyes -called attention to an automobile just then sweeping in -toward the curb. However, instead of the stalwart, -graceful figure of Manning, there emerged from the car -a squat, oily-faced man, huge of paunch, with thick lips, -a heavy nose, pouched cheeks, and small, pig-like eyes, -upon whose broad countenance hung an expression of -bland self-complaisance. By an odd coincidence, this -man was also connected with the stage. John knew -him by sight as Gustav Litschi, and by reputation as a -very swine among men, utterly without scruple, although -endowed with an uncanny business sense; a man who -had money and whose theatrical ventures always made -money, though often their character was as doubtful as -himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Disappointed, Hampstead nevertheless experienced a -feeling of curiosity as to Litschi's companion, and before -drawing back, followed the gross glance of the gimlet -eyes within the car to where they rested gloatingly upon -a woman in evening clothes, who was gathering her train -and cloak about her preparatory to being helped from -the car. To John's utter amazement the woman was -Marien.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment he stared as if confronted with a -specter, then felt his great hands itching while he wavered -between a desire to leap upon this coarse creature and -tear him to pieces, and the impulse to accost Marien with -reproaches and a warning. But the swift reflection that -she probably knew the man's character perfectly well -prompted John instead to the despicable expedient of -deliberately spying upon her. Turning impetuously, he ran -quickly down the steps in advance of the couple.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One?" queried the headwaiter, with a keen estimating -glance under which John ordinarily would have -felt himself to shrivel; but now a frenzy of jealousy and -a sense of outrage had made him bold.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he replied brusquely; "that seat yonder in the -corner where I can see the whole show."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a lonely and undesirable table, smack against -the side of the wall, along which ran a row of curtained, -box-like alcoves that served as tiny private dining rooms. -John could have it and welcome. He got it, and as he -turned to sit down, his eye scanned the interior swiftly -for Marien and Litschi. To his surprise they were -coming straight at him, Marien leading. Certain that she -had seen him and was going to address him, John -nevertheless determined to await a look of recognition before -arising. To his further surprise, no such look came. -Coldly, icily beautiful to-night, the glitter in her eyes -was hard and desperate, with a suggestion of menace in -it, reminding John of that momentary intuition he had -once experienced, that this woman could be dangerous. -Her note had warned him not to spy upon her, he recalled. -It must be that her discovery of his presence had -roused a devil in her now. So strong did this feeling -become that he felt a relief as great as his surprise -when she brushed by as if oblivious of his presence and -passed from view into the nearest box, the curtain of -which a waiter was holding aside obsequiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the screening curtain dropped, swinging so near -that John could have reached across his table and touched -it with a hand, he had a sense of sudden escape, as if -a tigress, sleekly beautiful and powerfully cruel, had -over-leaped him to tear a richer prey beyond. The swine-like -Litschi, waddling after her into the box, was the chosen -victim. Yonder by the curb John had feared for Marien; -now, repulsive as the creature was, he felt a kind of pity -for Litschi.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet with the curtain drawn, Hampstead's emotion -passed swiftly back to love and anxiety for her. She -had not seen him, that was all. The supposed look of -menace was the product of his imagination and his jealousy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the minutes passed unnoted, this anxiety grew again -into sympathy and consideration. Marien had complained -to him of the hard things she had to do. This -supper with Litschi was merely one of them. That scene -with Manning was another. He reflected triumphantly -that she had not welcomed Litschi to her apartment; but -compelled him to bring her to this public place. Poor, -brave girl! She had to play with all these men; to warm -them without herself getting burnt; to woo them -desperately upon the chance: Manning that he might -somewhere speak the fortunate word, Litschi that in some -greedy hope of gain he might be induced to risk his -money on the venture that would give Marien the -opportunity for which she had been calculating indomitably -for seven years.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But what was that?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John's hand reached out and clutched the table violently, -while his body leaned forward as if to rise. What -was that she had said so loudly he could hear, and so -astonishing that he could not believe his ears?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had been sitting there such a long, long time, thinking -thoughts like these, stirred, soothed, and stirred again -by the sound of her voice, heard intermittently between -the numbers of the orchestra. He had ordered food and -eaten, then ordered more and eaten that,—anything to -think and wait, he did not know for what.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Waiters bearing trays had come and gone unceasingly -from behind the curtain four feet from his eyes, and he -knew that they had borne more bottles than food. -Several times he had heard a sound like "shots off-stage." This -sound always succeeded the entry of a gold sealed -bottle. Evidently they were drinking heavily behind the -curtain, Litschi's voice growing lower and less coherent, -and Marien's louder and less reserved, till for some time -he had been catching little snatches of her conversation. -She had been talking about her future, painting a picture -of the success she would make when her opportunity -came; but now she had said the thing that staggered him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What?" he came near to saying aloud; and at the -same time he heard the drink-smothered voice of Litschi -also with interrogative inflection. Litschi, too, wanted -to be sure that he had heard aright.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I say," iterated the voice of Marien deliberately, as -if with calculated carrying power, "that a woman who -is ambitious must be prepared to pay the price -demanded—her heart, her soul—if need be—</span><em class="italics">herself</em><span>!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She plumped out the last word ruthlessly, and broke -into a half-tipsy laugh that had in it a suggestion -unmistakable as much as to say:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You understand now, don't you, Gustav Litschi? -You realize what I am offering to the man who buys me -opportunity?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her heart—her soul—herself! Hampstead, having -started up, sat down again weakly, the cold sweat of -horror standing out upon his brow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So this was what she had meant all the time in her -speech about the calculating life. She could not give -herself up to love him or any one, because she was -dangling herself as a final lure to the man who would give her -opportunity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, this woman was spiritually—morally—potentially, -a—" he could barely let himself think the hateful -word. To utter it was impossible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps she was worse! A choking, burning sensation -was in his throat. He tore at it with his hands, gasping -for breath. He wanted to tear at the curtain—at the -woman! How he hated her! She had no longer any -fineness. She was a coarse, designing, reckless—</span><em class="italics">prostitute</em><span>! -There! In his agony, the word was out. He sent -it hurtling across the stage of his own brain. It flew -straight. It found its mark upon the face of his love and -stuck there blotched and quivering, biting into the picture -like acid. It ate out the eyes of Marien Dounay from -his mind; it ate away her pliant ruby lips, her cheeks and -her soft round chin, and it left of that face only a -grinning hideousness from which John Hampstead shrank -with a horrible sickness in his heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this moment the curtain rings clicked sharply under -the sweep of an impetuous arm, and with the suddenness -of an apparition, Marien stood just across the table from -him. Her face was highly colored, but the preternatural -brightness of the eyes had begun to dull, and there was a -loose look, too, about the mouth, the lips of which were -curled by a mocking smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, John Hampstead!" she sneered, with a vindictive -look in her eyes, insinuating scorn in her tones. -"Now that I have played out the scene, do you think you -understand?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John had risen stiffly, every fiber of him in riot at the -horror he had heard and was now seeing; but his -self-control was perfect, and a kind of dignity invested him -for the moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he said, meeting her gaze unflinchingly, "I -understand!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The tone of finality that went into this latter word was -unescapable. As it was uttered, Marien attempted one of -her lightning changes of manner but failed, breaking -instead into a fit of hysterical laughter, during which, -with head thrown back, her body swayed, and she -disappeared behind the curtain, where the laughter ended -abruptly in something like a choke, or a fit of coughing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But John's indignation and disgust were so great that -he did not concern himself as to whether Miss Dounay's -laughter might be choking her or not. Embarrassed, too, -by the number of eyes turned curiously upon him from -the nearer tables where the diners had observed the -incident without gathering any of its purport, his only -impulse was to pay his bill and escape, before the building -and the world came clattering down upon him.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-method-of-a-dream"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE METHOD OF A DREAM</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>So paralyzing to a man of Hampstead's sensitive nature -was the effect of Marien Dounay's startling disclosure -that he experienced a partial arrest of consciousness, the -symptoms of which hung on surprisingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Somehow that night he got back to Oakland, and the -next morning was again about his work; but the days went -by mechanically—days of risings and retirings, eatings -and sleepings, memorizing of lines, mumbling of speeches, -sliding into clothes, slipping into grease paint, walkings -on and walkings off. Through all of these daily -obligations the man moved with a certain absent-minded -precision, like a person with a split consciousness, who does -not let his right lobe know what his left lobe is thinking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He knew, for instance, that a telegram came to him one -day with the charges collect, and that he paid the charges -and signed for the message, but he did not know that the -message lay unopened on his dresser while he spent all -his unoccupied time sunk in a stupor of meditation upon -the thing which had befallen him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Most astonishing to John was the fact that while he -felt rage and humiliation at having so duped himself over -Marien Dounay, he had no sense of pain. He was like a -man run over by a railroad train who experiences no throb -of anguish but only a sickish, numbing sensation in his -mangled limbs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Recognizing that his condition was not normal, -Hampstead wondered if he could be going insane. He was -eating little; he was taking no interest in his work. He -went and came from the theater automatically, impatient -of company, impatient of noise, of newspaper headlines, -of interruptions of any sort, anxious only to get to his -room, to throw himself into a chair or upon a bed, and -relapse into a state of mental drooling. After several -days he roused from one of these reveries with the clear -impression that some presence had been there in the room, -had breathed upon him, had touched his lips, and spoken -to him. He leaped up and looked about him. He opened -the door and scanned the corridor. No one was there,—no -echo of corporeal footsteps resounded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Realizing that it must have been his own dream that -waked him, he came back sheepishly and tried again to -induce that state of mental dusk in which the odd -sensation had been experienced. Soon he roused again with -the knowledge that the presence had been with him and -had departed; but this time a clear picture of the vision -remained. It was a woman,—it was like Marien. It -was, he told himself, the image of his Love. He entertained -it sadly, like an apparition from the grave. The -vision came again, but with repeated visits, its form began -to change, until it no longer resembled the form of Marien.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was exciting; the image might change still further -till it definitely resembled some one else.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This surmise proved correct. It did change more and -more until identity was for a time completely lost, but as -days passed, the features ceased to blur and jumble. The -eyes were now constantly blue; the complexion was -consistently pink and white; the hair was brown and began -to appear crinkly; the lips grew shorter, and of a more -youthful red; the chin broadened and appeared fuller and -softer. One morning these rosier lips smiled with a -rarer spontaneity than the vision had ever shown before, -and with the smile came two dimples into the peach-blow -cheeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bessie!" John cried, with a welcoming shout of -incoherent joy. "Bessie!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But his joy was speedily swallowed up in the gloom of -mortifying reflections. Could it be that his love was so -inconstant as to transfer itself in a few days from Marien -Dounay to Bessie Mitchell, and if it did, what was such -love worth? Besides, how could he love Bessie as he -had loved Marien. There was no fire in her. As yet, -she was only a girl. But at this juncture a memory came -floating in of that day on the Cliff House rocks, when -some vague impulse, which he thought to be sympathy, -had made him draw Bessie's face up to his and kiss it. -Now, as he recalled it, the touch of her lips was the touch -of a woman; and her look that puzzled him then,—why, -it was the look of love!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead leaped up excitedly. Bessie was a woman, -and she loved him! And he loved her! But how could -he have been such a fool as to think that he loved Marien?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Passion," he told himself scornfully, "mere passion."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She was the first ripe woman I ever touched, and I -fell for her! That's all," he muttered. "But, how -could I ever, ever, ever have done it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Heaping bitter self-reproaches, he took his bewildered -head in his hands, while he wrestled with the humiliating -chain of ruminations. Naturally enough, it was the -memory of a speech of Marien's which afforded him his -first clue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In what you have just been saying, you have given me -a character," she had replied to one of his advances. "If -I could play that part always, I should be what you are in -love with, and you would love me always; but I cannot -play it always; I can play it seldom. I play it now for an -hour and then perhaps never again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This speech, vexatiously enigmatic then, sounded -suddenly rational now. It meant that he had unconsciously -bestowed upon her his idealized conception of womanhood. -This was made comparatively easy because in the -plays Marien almost invariably enacted the heroines, -always sweet, always gentle, and almost always good; or, -if erring, they were more sinned against than sinning. -Most of these piled-up virtues of her rôles John dotingly -had ascribed to her, and his professional contacts -afforded few glimpses of the real Marien by which his -drawing could be corrected.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Atop of this had come those few hours of delicious -intimacy in her apartment, when she had deliberately played -the part she saw that he would like. This had sufficed -to make his illusion complete.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Still John had no reproaches for the actress. Instead, -he found within him a renascence of respect for her, -particularly for her frankness. Most women—most men, -too, for that matter, he thought—play the hypocrite with -themselves and with others. He must do her full credit. -She had not done so. She might have ruined him. He -owed his escape to no discernment of his own. When -he had not understood, she had resolutely played the -scene out for him—to the uttermost. It must have cost -a woman, any woman, something to do that, he reasoned. -Under this interpretation, Marien was no longer repulsive -to him. Instead, he found in her something to admire. -Her courage was sublime. Her devotion to her god, -ambition, if terrible, was also magnificent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yet, why," he asked himself, "did she let me take her -in my arms? Sympathy," he answered at last. "She -never loved me. A woman who loved a man could not -do what she did in the restaurant. She was very sorry -for me, that was all. She let me kiss her as she would let -a dog lick her hand." And then he remembered another -speech of hers: "If a man is sometimes man, may not -woman be also sometimes woman?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This helped him finally and completely, as he thought, to -understand; but it left him with a still deeper sense of his -own weakness and humiliation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marien Dounay had roused the woman want in him -and while she was near, her personality had been strong -enough to center that want upon herself. But when she -shook his passion free of her, it turned, after circling like -a homing pigeon, due upon its course to Bessie. John -saw that this was all logical and psychological. Patently, -it was also biological.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But it was mortifying beyond words. He felt that he -had dishonored himself and dishonored Bessie. He had -supposed himself strong; he found himself weak. He -had been swept off his feet and out of his head. He was -ashamed of himself, heartily. Bessie, the good, the pure, -the noble! Why, he could not think of her at all in the -terms in which he thought of Marien Dounay. His -instinct for Marien had been to possess. For Bessie it was -to revere, to worship—and yet—and yet—he wanted -her now with an urge that was stronger than ever he had -felt for Marien.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Still, he had no impulse to rush to Bessie. He felt -unworthy. He could not see himself taking her hand, -touching her lips, declaring his love to her now. It -seemed to him that he must test his love for Bessie before -he declared it, and purify it by months—years, perhaps,—of -waiting, as if to expiate the sin of his weakness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But in the meantime, Bessie loved him, and would be -loving him all the time. And he could write to her! Ah, -what letters he would write, letters that would not only -keep her love alive but fan it, while he punished himself -for his insane disloyalty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Disloyalty! Yes, that was the very word. He knew -as he reflected that he had been disloyal ever to yield to -the spell of Marien Dounay. He had been disloyal to -Bessie, to his ideals, and to himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned to where a few days before he had pinned -his old Los Angeles motto on the wall of his Oakland -room: "Eternal Hammering is the Price of Success."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hammering, he decided, was the wrong word. It was -not high enough. He stepped over to the wall and -changed it to the new word so that it read:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eternal </span><em class="italics">Loyalty</em><span> is the Price of Success."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He liked that better; so well, in fact, that he lifted his -hand dramatically and swore his life anew, not to hammering -but to Loyalty,—loyalty to himself, to Bessie, to -Dick and Tayna, and to God!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This gave him a feeling of new courage. He turned -away as from a disagreeable experience now forever -past. His eyes wandered about the room exactly as if he -had returned from an absence, taking in detail by detail -the familiar, scanty furniture, the hateful spring rocker, -the washstand, the bed, the torn, smoke-soiled curtains at -the window, the picture of Washington at Valley Forge -upon the wall, and the dresser with its cheap speckled -mirror.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His glance had just paused mystified at the sight of the -unopened telegram upon the dresser when there was a -knock at the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a stride, John turned the key and swung open -the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bud, the fourteen-year-old call boy of the Sampson -Theater, entered; a breathless, self-important youngster -with freckles and a stubby pompadour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Cohen's says yer better write a letter ter yer -sister," the lad blurted, while his eyes scanned the room -and the actor, where he stood reaching in a dazed sort of -way for the telegram.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hey," exclaimed Hampstead, looking up sharply, -"my sister?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ye-uh," affirmed Bud stoutly. "Mr. Cohen's got a -letter from her, and she wants to know if yer sick 'r -anything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By jove, that's right, Bud," confessed John with -sudden conviction. "I've had my mind on something of -late, and guess I've rather overlooked the folks at home. -I'll write to-day. Awfully kind of you, old chap, to come -over. Here!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Hampstead, now with the telegram in his hand, -attempted to cover a feeling of confusion before these -bright, peering eyes by a pilgrimage to the closet, from -which he tossed Bud a quarter. The lad accepted the -quarter thankfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Say, Mr. Hampstead," he broke out impulsively, with -an embarrassed note in his voice, "I'm sorry you got your -notice!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Got my notice?" asked John a bit sharply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. Yer let out," announced Bud, with unfeeling -directness, though consideration was in his heart. "You -been good to me, Mr. Hampstead, and I'm sorry you're -goin'. Some of the others is, too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But John was roused now, thoroughly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Bud, what are you talking about?" he demanded, -turning accusingly to the boy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For the love of Mike," exclaimed Bud, advancing a -little fearsomely and studying the face of Hampstead -with new curiosity, "Yer let out and don't know it! -What'd I tell 'em? Why, there it is," and he snatched -up a blue, thin-looking envelope from the dresser. "Y' -got it a week ago when you got yer pay. Y' ain't opened -it even."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead took the blue envelope from Bud's hand, -an awful sense of weakness running through him as he -read that his services would not be required after the -customary two weeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What did I get this for, Bud?" he asked, sensing the -uselessness of dissimulation before this impertinent child.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Y' got it fer bein' dopey," answered Bud reproachfully. -"Y' ain't had no more sense than a wooden man -fer ten days. Say, Mr. Hampstead," he ventured -further with sympathetic friendliness, "yer a good actor -when you let the hop alone. Why don't you cut it? -You're young yet. You got a future, Mr. Cohen says, -if you'll let the dope alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead's face took on a queer, half-amused look.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that what he said?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's what he said," affirmed Bud aggressively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, then, all right, Bud. I will cut it out. Here's -my hand on it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bud took the hand, a trifle surprised and feeling a little -more important than usual. "Say," he added confidentially, -"wise me, will y'; what kind have you been takin'? -Mr. Cohen says he's never seen nothin' like it, and he -thought he'd seen 'em all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, it's a little brand I mixed myself," confessed -John. "But I'm done with it. Run along now, Bud. -You've been a good pal," and he gave the lad a pat on -the shoulder and a significant shove toward the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Glad I came over," reflected Bud at the door, jingling -the quarter in his pocket. "Better write yer sister, or -she'll be comin' up here. Say," and Bud returned as if -for a further confidence, "y' never know what a woman's -goin' to do, do y'? Las' fall a woman shot our leadin' -juvenile in the leg—because she loved him. Get that? -Because she loved him!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bud's drawling scorn was inimitable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Y' can't figger 'em, can yuh? Some of 'em wants to -be called, and some of 'em don't. Some of 'em wants -their letters before the show, and some of 'em after. -Some of 'em is one way one day and the other way the -next day. If I ever get my notice,—if I ever lose my -job it'll be about a woman. I never seen a man yet that -I couldn't get his nannie. I never seen a woman yet that -couldn't get mine and get it fresh every time I run a step -fer her. Say! Mr. Hampstead—honest—ain't they -the jinx?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bud had got his hand on the door, but getting no -answer to this very direct and to him very important -question, he turned and scrutinized the face of the big -man curiously at first and then with amazement, as he -exclaimed: "Fer the love of Mike! He ain't heard -me. Say, Mr. Hampstead! Say!" Bud went back -and shook the big man's arm, with a look of apprehension -on his face, and shouted very loud, as if to the deaf: -"Say! Come out of it, will y'? Don't write. Telegraph -her. Gosh! She might blame me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After which parting gun in behalf of duty and of -prudence, with a sigh and the air of having done a man's -best, the lad got hastily through the door and slammed -it after him very loudly.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-catastrophe"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE CATASTROPHE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Bud was right. John had not heard him. He stood -with the telegram torn open in his hand.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Charles fell from El Capitan," it ran. "Body -brought here. ROSE."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>For a moment the man gazed fixedly, deliberately but -absently crushing the envelope in one hand, while the -other held the open message before him. Then his lips -moved slowly and without uttering a sound, they framed -the words of his thought: "Charles!—Dead!—Merciful God!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a reflective interval the gray, startled eyes set -themselves on distance and then turned again to the message. -It was dated April 4.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>April 4? What day was this?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the dresser was an unopened newspaper. John -remembered now he had bought it yesterday, or rather he -assumed it was yesterday. The date upon the paper was -April 14. If it were yesterday he bought that paper, -to-day was the 15th, and Charles had been dead eleven days! -What had they thought—what had they done without a -word from him in this crisis? What had become of them?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And there were unopened letters on the dresser, three of -them, all from Rose. John tore them open, lapping up -their contents with his eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor, poor Rose!" he groaned. "What must she -think of me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The first letter told of the death of Charles and the -lucky sale of "Dawn in the Grand Canyon" which afforded -money for the recovery of the body and its decent -interment, but little more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The second letter was briefer and expressed surprise at -not hearing from him in response to her message, which -the telegraph company assured her had been delivered to -him in person. This letter showed Rose bearing up -under her grief and stoutly making plans for taking up -the support of her children.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The third letter was addressed by the hand of Rose, -but the brief note enclosed was penned by the kind-hearted -Doctor Morrison, the railroad's "company" physician, -to whom, as a part of his outside practice, Rose would -have applied in case of illness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your sister," Doctor Morrison wrote, "has suffered -a complete nervous breakdown. Long rest with complete -relief from financial care is imperative."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This letter stirred John to immediate action. He -rushed to the long-distance telephone. The telegraph was -not quick enough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please reassure my sister immediately," John -telephoned to Doctor Morrison. "Every provision will be -made for her care and that of the children." Not satisfied -with this, John sent a telegram to his sister direct and -to the same effect.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These messages were dispatched as the first and most -natural impulses of the brother's heart, without pause to -consider the responsibilities involved; and then, having no -appetite for breakfast, John returned to his room to write -to Rose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Poor Rose! And poor old Charles! Such an end for -him. No great pictures painted; no roseate successes -gathered; just to follow his vision on and on until in -absent-minded admiration of a sunset glow he stepped off -the brow of El Capitan in Yosemite and fell hundreds of -feet to death. Yet John's grief was strangely tempered -by the thought that somehow this death was fitting. It -was like the man's life. In art he had tried to walk the -heights with no solid ground of ability beneath, and he -had fallen into the bottomless abyss of failure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment John pitied Charles greatly; yet when -he thought of Rose, prostrated, as he was sure, not by -grief, but by long anxieties, his feeling turned to one of -reproach. When he thought of the children left fatherless, -with no provision for their future or that of Rose, -the reproach turned to bitterness. He found himself -judging Charles very sternly, and a verse from scripture -came into his mind,—something about the man who -provides not for his own being worse than a murderer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But in the midst of this condemnation, Hampstead's -jaw dropped, and he sat staring at the pen with which he -was preparing to write. The expression on the man's -face had changed from concern to one of agony. When -the pain passed, his features were gray and tenantless, -almost the look of the dead; for John Hampstead had -suddenly perceived that </span><em class="italics">his stage career was ended</em><span>!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rose, Dick and Tayna were now "his own." To give -Rose the best of care, upon which his heart had instantly -determined, he must have what were to him large sums -of money weekly and monthly; money for nurses, money -for doctors, for sanitariums possibly; and perhaps Dick -and Tayna must be sent to boarding-school or some place -like that for the present, while their higher education must -also be considered and provided for.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John knew he could never do these things and follow -the stage. He could succeed upon the stage; he had -proven that, to his own satisfaction at least; but he could -not make money there yet, not for years and years. Marien -was right. If he persisted, rewards would come and -affluence. But they would come at the other end of life. -He must have them now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps hardest of all to John was the hurt to his pride, -to his self-confidence, the reflection that, having set his -eye upon a shining goal, he must abandon the march -toward it unbeaten, with his strength untested, or with the -tests so far made distinctly in his favor. It was hard to -think himself a "quitter." And yet he could feel the -stir of a noble satisfaction in being a "quitter" for duty's -sake. He remembered with a certain sad pleasure how -almost prophetically he had told Mr. Mitchell that it would -only be something that would happen to Dick and Tayna -that could keep him from going on with his ambition. -Now exactly that had come to pass; yet to make immediate -surrender of the ambition to which he had devoted -himself with such enthusiasm seemed impossible. He -knew what he should do—what he intended to do—but -he lacked the resolution for the moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If Bessie were only here!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And yet if she were, he would shrink from her -presence. He felt just now unworthy to look into those -trusting eyes of blue. This time he must face his destiny -alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His head sank low. His hands were clasped above it, -as they had been that night when he was stricken blind. -The world was dark before him. Now, as then, he felt -sorry for himself. In a very few months a great many -things had happened to him that had wrenched him -violently. He had been racked by doubts and inflamed -by mysterious emotions. He had hoped and he had -dared; he had struggled; he had gained some things and -lost some; but he had survived, and on the whole was -conquering. Now came the heaviest blow, as it seemed, -that could possibly fall upon his head,—and just in the -very hour when the upward way was clearing!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His face was flat upon the page he had meant to fill with -words of love and help to Rose. Above him, on the wall, -was the sheet of faded yellow paper that bore his just -amended motto. Two pins, loosened no doubt when he -changed the word on the legend, had been whipped out -by the breeze which swept in through the open window, -and this breeze now fluttered the free end of the yellow -sheet insistently like a pennant, so that the distracted man -lifted his clouded eyes and read once again, as if to make -sure:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eternal Loyalty is the Price of Success."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Loyalty to what?" he demanded fiercely of himself. -To his ambition? Or to two little growing lives that -trusted and believed in him?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To put the question like that was to answer it. John -rose abruptly, snatched the legend from the wall, crumpled -it as he had the envelope, and cast it on the floor. He -didn't need it any more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And yet," he reflected after a moment, "why not?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Uncle John, when will you be president?" Tayna -had asked him that one night, and he smiled as in fancy -he felt her arms again about his neck, her bare feet -cuddling in his lap. The thought roused him. He was not -surrendering all ambition when he surrendered a stage -ambition. He was a man of greatly increased ability now -as compared with then. Surely a man was pretty poor -stuff if, having been defeated in one desire through no -fault of his own, he could not carve out another niche for -himself somewhere in the wide hall of achievement. -John stooped and recovered the crumpled square of -yellow, smoothed its wrinkles reverently, and fastened it -again and more securely upon the wall above him.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>That night John Hampstead went to the theater as -usual, but entered the dressing room like a man going -into the presence of his dead. Throughout the -performance he made his entrances and exits solemnly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The play for this, his final week, was </span><em class="italics">Hamlet</em><span>, and -John's part was the King. Every night as the Prince of -Denmark killed him with a rapier thrust, John enacted -that spectacular and traditional fall by which, since time -forgotten, all Kings in </span><em class="italics">Hamlet</em><span> go toppling to the floor, -where they die with one foot upraised upon the bottom-most -step of the throne, as if reluctant even in death to -give up the perquisites and preeminence of royalty. So -hour by hour John felt that he was killing the King in -his soul, but the King died reluctantly, always with one -foot on the throne.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The last night came, and the last hour. Methodically -the man assembled his make-up materials, his grease -paints, his hare's feet, and the beard he had himself -fashioned for the King to wear, and put them away, with -their sweetish, unmistakable odor, in the old cigar box, -to be treasured henceforth like sacred things, symbols of -a great ambition which had stirred a young man's breast, -and remembrances of the greatest sacrifice it seemed -possible aspiring youth could be called upon to make.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But no one was to know that it was a sacrifice; not -Rose, not Dick nor Tayna even. They were to think he -did it happily and because "The stage—the stage life, -you know! Well, probably there are better ways for a -man to spend his energies."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But, really, in his heart of hearts, Hampstead knew he -would love the drama always. He owed it a debt that -he could never repay, and some day when he had achieved -a brilliant success in another walk of life—when Dick -and Tayna were grown and far away perhaps—he would -take out the old cigar box and gather his children around -him, if he should have children, and tell them the story -of his first divinest ambition as one tells the story of one's -first love; and of the great sacrifice he had made in the -cause of duty, fingering the while these crumbling things -as one caresses a lock of hair of the long departed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look, Bud, here's a box of cold cream—nearly full. -You can get a quarter for it from somewhere along the -line," suggested John, nodding toward the row of -dressing rooms as he walked away, his overcoat over his -shoulder, a suitcase in his hand.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-king-still-lives"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE KING STILL LIVES</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>To make money quickly and steadily and in considerable -amounts, was his immediate necessity. He remembered, -naturally, that only seven months ago William -N. Scofield had offered him a salary of twelve thousand -dollars a year, and he went to see that gentleman promptly. -But while the Traffic Manager's eye lighted at sight of -him, the light faded. Scofield did not refer to the offer -he had made or the things he had talked about that night -in the Pacific Union Club. He only said absently: "I -will speak to Parsons." The next day Parsons offered -Hampstead a position in the rate department at one -hundred dollars per month. John was not greatly surprised. -He knew the world was like that.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course, he might have gone next to Mr. Mitchell, -but did not. In the first place John knew that no -position which that kind-hearted gentleman might offer could -pay as much money as he must have. In the second -place, he felt himself big with a sense of new-grown -powers, of personality that he wanted to capitalize, not for -some employer, but for himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Seems to me," he communed, as he walked down -Market Street, "that I could sell real estate, or stocks, or -bonds; that I could promote enterprises, work with big -men, put through their deals, and make a lot of money. -I believe I will try it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An advertisement which seemed to promise something -like this was answered by him in person, but it proved -instead a proposition to sell books. John revolted at the -idea, but the books interested him greatly. The set was -designed for self-improvement, and the price was thirty -dollars.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Every time you sell a young man or woman a set of -these, you do them good," he suggested to the manager, -with a glow upon his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Exactly," assented that suave gentleman, sighting two -prime essentials of a salesman, faith in his article and a -missionary enthusiasm. "You could make a hundred a -week selling 'em!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One hundred dollars a week! John looked his incredulity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What were you doing before?" inquired the manager.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Acting!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Selling books is like acting," mused the manager. -"If you are a good actor, you could make a hundred a -week easy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Because John needed one hundred dollars a week, and -reflected that the experience would be good training for -that higher form of salesmanship upon which he meant -to embark, he took his prospectus and started out. The -first week his commissions were $7.50. He had made one -sale. But he needed one hundred dollars worse the -second week, and set forth with greater determination. -That week he made two sales. "I've almost got it," he -assured himself, gritting his teeth desperately. And the -third week he did get it. His commissions for six days -were $74.50, for the next week $112.50, for the fifth week -$145.00. John Hampstead was successfully launched -upon an enterprise that would care for all his money wants.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And the work itself was happy work. It was no -foot-in-the-door, house-to-house campaign on which he had -entered. Ways were found of gathering lists of persons -likely to be interested. He called upon these people like -a gentleman; he was received and entertained like one. -His self-respecting manner, his stage-trained presence, -his growing store of personal magnetism, his strong, -interesting face, with the odd light of spiritual ardor in his -eyes, and the little choke of enthusiasm that came into his -voice, all helped to make his presence welcome and his -canvass entertaining. He became an adept in reading -character and in playing upon the springs of desire and -resolution.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He discovered, too, something to interest and admire in -nearly every one upon whom he called. He was surprised -to find how nice people were generally. He had before -known people mainly in the mass, as publics, as audiences, -or congregations. Now he began to know them as -individuals, and to like them, to conceive a sort of social -passion for them, and to desire fervently to do all men good. -With this went the knowledge that he was becoming -socially very skillful, and a sense of still increasing -personal power peppered his veins with the sparkle of new -hopes. Ambition flamed once more. The king in his -soul was alive again. He could not only meet people, but -handle them. He felt that as a politician he could win -votes, as a lawyer he could sway juries.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He might even turn again to the stage, with the -prospect of swifter and surer success; but he had begun to -discover that one cannot go back, that no life ever flows -up-stream.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet the thing which really made the stage career no -longer possible was this sense of new powers grown up -within him that were not mimetic, but creative and -constructive, and which would insistently demand some other -form of expression.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Besides, the perspective of his life was now long enough -for him to look back and see how all his experiences had -enriched him. His very awkwardness, his temporary -blindness, his dramatic ambition, the calamity which -shattered that career and made him a seller of books, each -had been a step into power. His passion for Marien even, -while it was a fall, was a fall into knowledge, which -taught him self-control and made his love for Bessie a -tenderer and, as he fancied, a stauncher devotion than it -could otherwise have been.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This gave him a feeling, half-superstitious and -half-religious, that his existence was being ordered for him by -a power above his own. The effect of this was to -increase his eager zest for life itself. He lived excitedly, -hurrying continually, to see what would leap out at him -from behind the next corner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meantime, he was making money. Within six months -all the bills were paid and he had more than a thousand -dollars in the bank. Rose was out of the sanitarium and, -with Dick and Tayna, was housed in a cottage on the -slope of a hill in western San Francisco, where the setting -sun flashed its farewell upon the windows, and the wide -ocean rolled always in the distance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John was beginning, too, to feel that the time had come -when he could go back to Bessie and tell her of his love. -The past seemed very far past indeed. The memory of -those whirlwind hours of passionate attachment to Marien -Dounay was like a distorted dream of some drug-induced -slumber into which he had sunk but once, and from which -he had awakened forever.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Letters had passed frequently between himself and -Bessie. On his part, these were carefully studied and -almost devoutly restrained in expression; but none the -less freighted in every line with the fervor of his growing -devotion to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On her part, the letters were as frankly and impulsively -rich with the essence of her own happy, effervescent self -as they had always been. She had expressed a loyal -sympathy with him in the shattering of his stage career, but -had commended him for his renunciation, while through -the letter had run a note of relief, which led John to -discover for the first time that Bessie's concurrence in his -dramatic ambitions was never without misgivings. True, -she had told him this once, but it was when he had been -too deaf to hear. What pleased John most in this -correspondence was a pulse of happiness, quickening almost -from letter to letter, which the big man felt revealed her -perception of his growing love for her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps it was this that put the past so far behind, that -made it seem as though his love for Bessie had always -been a part of his life, and the impulse to declare it a -legitimate ripening of fruit that had grown slowly towards -perfection.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In this mood a day was set when John would go to -Los Angeles to visit Bessie. As the time approached, he -could think of nothing else. On the morning of that -day, the evening of which was to mark his departure, he -was canvassing in Encina, a beautiful section of that urban -population of several hundred thousand people across the -Bay from San Francisco, the largest municipal unit of -which is the City of Oakland. But thoughts of Bessie -crowding in, so filled the lover's mind with rosy clouds -that he had not enough of what salesmen call "closing -power."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As it happened, a tiny park was just at hand, two blocks -long and half a block wide, curved at the ends, dotted with -graceful palms, with tall, shapely, shiny-leaved acacias, -and covered with a thick sod of grass, laced at intervals by -curving walks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Upon a bench in the very center of this park -Hampstead dropped down and gave himself up to blissful -meditations. Across the street from him was a block of -happy-looking cottage homes, the homes of the great -middle-class folk of America, the one class that John knew well -and sympathetically, for he himself was of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the corner directly before him was a grass-sodded -lot, larger than the others, holding in its center, not a -cottage, but a structure of the country schoolhouse type, -painted white, and with a small hooded vestibule out in -front. Over the wide doors admitting to this vestibule -was a transom of glass, on which was painted in very plain -letters the words: CHRISTIAN CHAPEL.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The house of God does not look so happy as the -homes of men hereabout," Hampstead remarked, and -just then was surprised out of his own thoughts by seeing -the door of the deserted looking chapel open and two men -come out. One was tall and heavy, gray of moustache -and red of face, wearing a silk hat, a white necktie, and -a full frock coat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An ex-clergyman," voted Hampstead shrewdly, because, -aside from his dress, the man looked aggressively -unclerical.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The other was slender, with a black, dejected moustache -and also frock-coated, but the material of the garment was -gray instead of black, and the suit rubbed at the elbows -and bagged at the knees. This man carried a small -satchel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Some sort of a missionary secretary, I'll bet you," -was John's second venture at identification.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Another incongruous thing about the man with the -clerical dress was that he had a carpenter's hammer in his -hand. Dropping this tool upon the wooden landing, -where it clattered loudly, he drew a key from his pocket -and locked the door, shaking it viciously to make sure that -it was fast. Then, descending the steps, with the claw of -the hammer he pried loose a plank, some six or eight feet -long, from the wooden walk that ran across the sod to -the concrete pavement in front. The missionary secretary -took one end of this, and the two raised it across the door, -where the ex-clergyman disclosed the fact that his bulging -left hand contained nails, as with swinging blows, he began -to cleat the door fast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nailing up God!" commented John, whose mood had -become sardonic.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the story, I wonder," he remarked next, and -rising, sauntered across the narrow street and up the -wooden walk, till he stopped with one foot on the lower -step, gazing casually, with mild curiosity expressed upon -his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The missionary secretary had noted John's advance and -appeared to recognize that his chance interest was -legitimate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A miserable, squabbling little church," the man -remarked, an expression of pain upon his face. "A -disgrace to the communion. I'm the District Evangelist. -I've had to step in from the outside and close it up, in -the interest of peace. Brother Burbeck, here, is a leader -of one of the wings. He has tried to bring peace in -vain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have stood up for the Lord against the disturber," -announced Brother Burbeck over his shoulder, while he -dealt a vicious blow, as if the head of the nail were instead -the head of the malefactor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And who was the disturber?" queried John. "A -man of bad character, I suppose."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, you couldn't call him that, could you, Brother -Burbeck?" ventured the District Evangelist. "Just a -young man from the Seminary, with his head overflowing -with undigested facts."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Near facts, they was—</span><em class="italics">only</em><span>," interjected Brother -Burbeck sententiously, as he held another nail between a -hard thumb and a knotted finger, and tapped the head -gently to start it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rather undermining the faith of the people in the old -Gospel," went on the Evangelist.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Takin' away what he couldn't never put back," -amended Brother Burbeck, between blows, and then added -accusingly: "He had no respect for the Elders, not -a bit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Brother Burbeck's tones, as he contributed this -additional detail, were as sharp as his blows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were one of the Elders?" inquired John, in an -even voice that might have been construed to mean -respect for the eldership.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am one of 'em," corrected the driver of nails. "I -preached the old Jerusalem Gospel myself for twenty -years," he affirmed proudly, "until my health failed, and -I went into undertaking."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You appear to have got your health back," observed -John dryly, noting marks of the hammer upon the plank -where the nail heads had been beaten almost out of sight -by his slashing blows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yep," admitted that gentleman, just as dryly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Looking at Elder Burbeck's large head, with its iron-gray -hair, at the silk hat, which stuck perilously, but -persistently, to the back of it; noticing the folds of oily flesh -on his bullock neck, the working of his broad, fat shoulders, -and the sweat standing out on his heavy jowls, as if -protesting mutely this unusual activity discharged with -such vehemence, John made up his mind that he could -never like Elder Burbeck. In his heart he took the part -of the disturber.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know what this reminds me of, somehow?" he -asked, with just a minor note of accusation in his tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not being a mind reader, I don't," replied Elder -Burbeck, turning on John a look which showed as plainly as -his speech that in the same interval of time when John -was deciding he didn't like Burbeck, Burbeck was -deciding he didn't like John. "What does it?" and the -Elder-undertaker stared fiercely at the book agent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nailing Jesus to the Cross," replied John, shooting a -glance at Burbeck that was hard and beamlike.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hey!" exclaimed Burbeck, his red face reddening more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," explained the Secretary, interjecting himself -anxiously, as a man not too proud of his duty that day, -"it is in the interests of peace. We expect to give time a -chance to heal the wounds. In six months the disturbing -element will have gone away or given up, and then we can -open the doors to peace and the old faith."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I see," said John, as instinctively liking the -Missionary Secretary as he instinctively disliked Brother -Burbeck, "it is a movement in behalf of the </span><em class="italics">status quo</em><span>?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," replied the Secretary, smiling faintly, as he -noticed the shaft of humor in John's eye.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And Brother Burbeck?" John twitched his chin in -the direction of the tipsy silk hat and the vehemently -swinging hammer. "He is the apostle of the </span><em class="italics">status quo</em><span>?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," assented the Missionary, smiling yet more -faintly, after which he countered with: "Are you a -Christian, my brother?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was a Deacon in the First Church, Los Angeles," -answered John, "but I've been traveling round for a year -or so. Hampstead's my name."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Secretary's face lighted with unexpected pleasure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How do you do, Brother Hampstead," he exclaimed, -putting out his hand quickly. "My name's Harding."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Glad to meet you, Brother Harding," said John; "I've -seen your name in the church papers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Brother Burbeck, this is Brother Hampstead, of the -First Church, Los Angeles," announced Harding, when -that gentleman, having driven his last nail and smashed -the plank a parting blow with his hammer, turned to them -again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elder Burbeck's manner instantly changed. "Oh, one -of our brethren, eh, Hampstead? Why, say, I remember -hearing you talk one night down there in Christian -Endeavor when I was down at the Undertakers' Convention. -They told me you were going on the stage. That's how I -remember you so well, I guess."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I got over that nonsense," said John easily. "Sorry -to hear you've been having trouble in your little church."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's been a mighty sad case," sighed the Elder, -heaving his ponderous bosom and mopping his red brow and -scalp, for the removal of his hat revealed that his -iron-gray hair was only a fringe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By the way," asked John, who was contemplating the -bulletin board, "what about the Sunday school? I see -it's down for nine forty-five."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dwindled to a handful of children," declared Burbeck, -as if a handful of children was something entirely -negligible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John had a reason for feeling especially tender where -the feelings of children were concerned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But they'll come next Sunday, and they'll be terribly -disappointed," he urged. "It will shake their faith in -God himself. They won't understand at all, will they?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I reckon they will when they see the church nailed -up," answered Burbeck grimly, quite too triumphant over -spiking an enemy's guns to consider the mystified, -wondering soul of childhood as it might stand before that -nailed door four mornings forward from this, for the day -of the crucifixion of the door was Wednesday.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Their task completed, the Elder and the Evangelist -were turning toward the street. "Good-by, Brother," -said Harding, again shaking hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, good-by, Brother Hampstead," exclaimed Burbeck, -turning as if he had forgotten something, and offering -his stout, once sinewy palm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John gave it a grip that shook the huge frame of Elder -Burbeck, and made him feel, as he seldom felt about any -man, that here was a personality and a physical force at -least as vigorous as his own.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-by, Brother Burbeck," John responded, with an -open smile; and then while the two men took themselves -down the street in the direction of the car line, the -book-agent went back and sat contemplatively in the park.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a marvelously pleasant day. A few fleecy clouds -were drifting overhead, revealing patches of the unrivaled -blue of California's sky above them. The sun shone -warmly when the clouds were not in the way, and when -they were, the lazy breeze made its breath seem cooler -and more bracing, as if to compensate for the absence. -Down the street two or three blocks Hampstead could see -the Bay waters dancing in the sunlight. The cottages on -both sides of the park were embowered with vines, roses -mostly, white roses and red, with here and there a giant -bougainvillea, some of its lavender, clusterlike flowers -abloom, and some of them still sealed in their transparent -pods that looked like envelopes of isinglass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>High in the blue an occasional pigeon circled; off to the -left a kite appeared, sailing high, and bounding vigorously -when the upper air currents freshened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On John's own level, the world was faring onward -very happily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>About every cottage there was an air of nature's cheer -and a suggestion of blooming activity. Only the little -church looked hopeless and abandoned of men, the letters -of its name staring out big-eyed and lonely from above the -glass transom, while the plank of the </span><em class="italics">status quo</em><span>, nailed -rudely across its front, was a brutal advertisement of its -dishonored state.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Some day," mused John, "I think I'll build a church, -and I believe I'll build it to look like a cottage, with roses -round it and bougainvilleas and palms, with broad verandas, -inviting lawns, and bowering vines. I'll make it the -most homey looking place in the whole neighborhood, with -a rustic sign stuck up somewhere that says 'The Home -of God', or something like that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Still musing, the scornful words spoken to John by -Scofield more than a year ago on the steps of the Pacific -Union Club, came idling into his mind: "Remember! -You're not an actor! You're a preacher." He smiled -as he recalled Scofield's irritation at the idea, and his -own. How ridiculously impossible it had seemed then -and seemed to-day! And it was still so irritating as to -stir him into getting up and walking away from the little -chapel in the direction of the street car. Yet his mind -reverted to the closed door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Won't they be disappointed, though? Those children!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the corner he turned and looked back as if to make -sure. Yes, there was the weather-worn streak upon the -door, at that reckless angle which proclaimed the mood of -the man who placed it there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And they nailed up God!" Hampstead commented -grimly, swinging upon his car.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That afternoon at five o'clock he left for Los Angeles.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="when-dreams-come-true"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was three o'clock on Thursday afternoon, and John -was sitting happily in the Mitchell living-room in Los -Angeles, waiting for Bessie to come from school. Mrs. Mitchell -stood on the threshold, dressed for the street save -for her gloves, at one of which she was tugging.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have always felt, Mr. Hampstead, that you were a -very good influence for Bessie," she was saying guilefully, -"and I do wish you would talk her out of that university -idea. She graduates from High in June, you know; and -she talks nothing, thinks nothing, dreams nothing but -university, university, uni-v-e-r-s-i-t-y!" Mrs. Mitchell's -elocutionary climax was calculated to convey a very fine -impression of utter weariness with the word and with the -idea; but John, who had flushed with gratification at the -crafty compliment, would not be swerved by either guile -or scorn from an instinctive loyalty to Bessie and her -ideals.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm afraid I couldn't do that," he said soberly. "My -heart wouldn't be in it. Bessie has a wonderful mind. -You should give her every advantage."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, talk her out of Stanford, then," compromised -Mrs. Mitchell, as if in her mind she had already -surrendered, as she knew she must. "She's determined to go -there. Stanford is a kind of man's school, from what I -hear. Lots of the Phrosos are going to U.C."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But if I rather favor Stanford myself?" suggested -Hampstead, feeling his way carefully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The front door opened and closed, and John's heart -leaped at the sound of a light footstep in the hall. As -if hearing voices, the owner of the footsteps turned them -towards the living room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Book strap in hand, wearing a white shirt waist and -skirt of blue, with the brown crinkly hair breaking out -from under a small straw hat worn jauntily askew, Bessie -paused upon the threshold, her eyes a-sparkle with expectancy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John!" she exclaimed, with a little shriek of joy. -"You—you old dear!" and she came literally bounding -across the room to greet him as he rose and advanced -eagerly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead thought he had never seen such a glowing -picture of animal health and exuberance of life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well!" exclaimed Mrs. Mitchell, addressing her -daughter with chiding in her tones. "Why don't you -throw your arms around him and be done with it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie blushed, but John covered her confusion by -exclaiming:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I almost did that myself, Mrs. Mitchell, I was so glad -to see her!" Whereupon he laughed hilariously, it was -such a good joke; and Bessie laughed, turning her face -well away from her mother, while Mrs. Mitchell laughed -most heartily of all at the thought of John Hampstead -putting his arms around any woman, except, of course, -as he might have done in the practice of his late profession.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And now," declared Mrs. Mitchell, as she managed -the last button of her glove, "I must abandon you to -yourselves; but don't sit here paying compliments. Get out -into the air somewhere."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, let's," assented Bessie, with animation. "Only -wait till I change my hat!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't," pleaded John. "I like that one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I have another you'll like better," called Bessie -over her shoulder, for already she was racing out of the -room past her mother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-by. Have a good time!" Mrs. Mitchell lifted -her voice toward her daughter racing up the stairs, and -then turning, waved her ridiculous folding sunshade at -John as she adjured: "Give her your very best advice!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never doubt it," echoed John, with the sudden feeling -of a man who is left alone in a house to guard great -riches.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"How do you like it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie had taken a whole half-hour to change her hat, -but her dress had been changed as well, to something white -and filmy that reached below the shoe-tops and by those -few inches of extra length added a surprising look of -maturity to the pliant youthfulness of her figure. This -was heightened by a surplice effect in the bodice forming -a V, which accentuated the rounded fullness of the bosom -and gave a hint of the charm and power of a most -bewitching woman, ripening swiftly underneath the artless -beauty of the girl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wonderful!" John exclaimed rapturously, rising as -she entered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie's mood was lightly happy. His was deeply -reverent, and there was a world of devotion and tenderness -in the look he gave her, which thrilled through the -girl like an ecstasy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All the past was coming up to John's mind, all the long -past of their friendship with its gradual ripening into -normal, all-comprehending love, but still he was searching -her uplifted face as if for a final confirmation of the -oneness of the vision of his love with this materialization of -youth and woman mingling; for he must make no mistake -this time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yes, the confirmation was complete. It was the true -face of his dream. In it was everything which he had -hoped to find there. Marien Dounay had made woman -mean more to him than woman had ever meant before. -But here in the upturned, trusting face of Bessie, with -its sparkle in the eyes and its sunny witchery in the -dimples, there was something infinitely richer and more -satisfying than experience or imagination had been able -to suggest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here, he told himself reverently, was every blessing -that God had compounded for the happiness of man. And -it was his,—modestly, trustfully his. Every detail of -her expression and her beauty, every subtly playing -current of her personality, made him know it. He had but -to declare himself and reach out and take her like a -lover.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But, strangely, he could do neither. An awe was on -him. He felt like falling down upon his knees and -thanking God, but not like taking her; not like touching her -even, though he could not resist that when Bessie extended -frankly both her hands, quite in the old manner of cordial, -happy comradeship. John took them in his, and as she -returned his touch with the warm frank clasp that was -characteristic of her hearty nature, he got anew the sense -of the woman in her. It swept over him like an intoxication -that was rare and wonderful, like no rapture he had -ever known before—half-spiritual but half wholly -human—therefore with something in it that frightened him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bessie," he asked, abruptly, "could we get away from -here quickly—in a very few minutes—away from men -and houses and things?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie looked surprised. "Of course; we're going out, -aren't we?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But quickly," urged John, "just a mad impulse, just -a romantic impulse; the feeling that I want to get you out -of doors. You are like a flower to me, just bursting into -beautiful bloom. Better still, a wonderful fruit, which -in some sheltered spot has grown unplucked to a rich -tinted ripeness. You are so much a part of nature, so -utterly unartificial, that it seems I must see you and enjoy -you first in a setting of nature's own."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was the frankest acknowledgment of her beauty -and its appeal to him that John had ever made. It seemed -to Bessie that he made it now rather unconsciously; but -she saw that he felt it and was moved by it. To see this -gave her another delicious thrill of happiness. Indeed -her girlish breast was all a-tremble with joys, with -curiosities, with expectancies. She, too, felt something -wonderful and intoxicating in this slight physical contact of -her lover's fingers. She felt herself upon the verge of -new and mysterious discoveries and recognized the -naturalness of the instinct to meet them under the vaulted blue -with the warm sun shining and the tonic breezes blowing past.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your impulse is right, John," Bessie answered, with -quick assent and an energetic double shake of the hands -that held her own, and they went out into the sunny -street.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not far from the Mitchell residence, on the western -hills of Los Angeles, is a little, painted park, with a -maple-leaf sheet of water embanked by closely shaved terraces -of green, and once or twice a clump of shrubbery crouching -so close over graveled walks as to suggest the thrill -of something wild. From one of these man-made -thickets a toy promontory juts into the lake. Upon this -point, as if it were a lighthouse, is a rustic house, -octagonal in shape, with benches upon its inner circumference. -Embowered at the back, screened half way on the sides, -and with the open lake before, this snug structure affords -a delicious sense of privacy and elfin-like seclusion, -provided there be no oarsmen pulling lazily or tiny sailboat -loafing across the watery foreground.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This day there was none. The stretch of lake in front -stared vacantly. The birds twittered in the boughs -behind, unguardedly. The perfume of jasmine or orange -blossoms or honeysuckle or of love was wafted through -the rustic lattices; and here John and Bessie, seated side -by side, were able to feel themselves alone in the universe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But it was so delightful just to have each other thus -alone and know that at any moment the great words so -long preparing might be spoken, that instinctively they -postponed the blissful moment of avowal, with vagrant -talk on widely scattered subjects. Indeed, it seemed to -each that any word the other spoke was music, and -anything was blissful that engaged their minds in mutual -contemplation. But nearer and nearer to themselves the -subjects of conversation drew until they talked of their -careers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, they agreed, was going to be something big,—very, -very big; though he still did not know what, and in -the meantime he was going to make money, yet not for -money's sake.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As for Bessie, she, too, had developed an ambition and -surprised John into delightful little raptures with her -statement of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This country has been keeping bachelor's hall long -enough," she dogmatized, placing one slim finger -affirmatively in the center of one white palm. "Women are -going to have more to do with government. Here in -California we'll be voting in a few years. When it comes, -John, I'm going to be ready for it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The idea seemed so strange at first,—this dimpled -creature voting,—that John could not repress a smile. -But Bessie, her blue eyes round and sober, was too earnest -to protest the smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Father's going up the line; you know that, of course," -she affirmed. "He'll be a big man and rich almost before -we know it; but they're not going to make any social -buzz-buzz out of little Bessie. That's why I'm aiming at -Stanford. I'm going in for political economy. When -woman's opportunity comes, there are lots of women that -will be ready for it. I'm going to be one of them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie nodded her head so emphatically that some -crinkly brown locks fell roguishly about her ears, and -John was obliged to smile again; but for all that the big -man was very proud of the purpose so seriously -announced. Besides, with Bessie's manner more than her -words there went an impression of the growing depth and -dignity of her character that was to John as delightful as -some other things his eyes were boldly busy in observing. -But presently these busy observations and reflections -kindled in him again an overwhelming sense of the wealth -of woman in this aspiring, dimpled girl. With this went -an exciting vision of the bliss which life holds in store for -any mutually adapted man and woman where each is -consumed with desire for the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bessie!" he broke out impulsively, arising quickly and -looking down into her upturned, intent face. "Doesn't -everything we've just been talking about seem unimportant?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie's features expressed wonder and delightful -anticipation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Beside ourselves, I mean," John went on, and then -added impetuously: "To me, this afternoon, there is -just one fact in the universe, Bessie, and that fact is YOU!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The light of a shining happiness kindled like a flash on -the girl's face, and she threw out her hands to him in the -old impulsive way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just one thing I feel," John rushed along, seizing the -outstretched hands and playfully but tenderly lifting her -until she stood before him, "just one thing that I want to -do in the world above everything else, and that is to love -you, Bessie, to love you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The words as he breathed them seemed to come up out -of the deeps of a nature rich in knowledge of what such -love could mean.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie, her face enraptured, did not speak, but her -dimples behaved skittishly, and there was a sharp little -catch of her breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just one ambition stands out above every other," -continued the man with a noble earnestness—"the ambition -to make you happy—to protect you, to worship you, and -to help you do the things you want to do in the world. -For marriage isn't a selfish thing! It doesn't mean the -extinction of a woman's career in order that a man may -have his. It is the surrender of each to the other for the -greater happiness and the higher power of both."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly a choke came in the big man's voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's what I feel, my dear girl," he concluded -abruptly, with an excess of reverence in his tones, "and -that's what I want to do!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he spoke, John had lifted her hands higher and -higher till one rested on each of his shoulders. Man and -woman, they looked straight into each other's eyes, as they -had that day upon the cliff, but this time it was his lip that -quivered and his eyes that misted over.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie, sobered for a moment almost to a sense of -unworthiness, as she felt all at once what it meant for a -great-hearted man to so declare himself to a woman, saw -something in that growing mist which impelled her to -immediately reward the tenderness of such devotion with -a frank confession of her own.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," she breathed naïvely, "you have my permission -to do all those things. I'm sure, John, the biggest -fact, the biggest love, the biggest career in the world for -me is just you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie accompanied the words with an ecstatic little -shrug of the shoulders and a self-abandoning toss of the -head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Reverently John pressed his lips upon hers and held -her close for a very, very long time; while a thrill of -indescribable bliss surged over and engulfed him. His -embrace was gentle, even reverent; but it seemed he could -not let her out of his arms. Here at last was one -treasure he could never surrender; one renunciation he could -never make.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And to think," sighed Bessie, after a long and blissful -silence, finding such rapture in nestling in those strong -arms that she was still unwilling to lift her head from -where she could feel the beating of his happy heart, "to -think how long we have loved each other without -expressing it; how loyal we have been to each other's love -even before we had grown to recognize it for what it -truly was."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie looked up suddenly. It seemed to her that -John's heart had done a funny thing; that it staggered -and missed a beat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But John ignored her look. His face was set and -stubborn. He changed his position slightly and gathered -her yet more determinedly in his arms, so that Bessie felt -again how strong he was, and how much it means to -woman's life to add a strength like that.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know, John," she prattled presently, out of -the deepening bliss which this enormous sense of -security inspired, "do you know that I used to fear for -you? For me rather! To fear," she exclaimed with a -happily apologetic little laugh, "that you might fall in -love with Marien Dounay!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the laugh ended in a choke of surprise, when -Bessie felt the body of the big man shiver like a tree in a -blast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why? Why? What is the matter, John?" she -asked in helpless bewilderment, for the odd face with a -profile like a mountain had taken on a look of pain, and -while she questioned him, he put her from him and -with a low groan sank down upon the bench.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The little summer house was still undisturbed by the -rude, annoying outer world; but its atmosphere had -subtly changed. A chill wind blew through the -shrubbery and the fragrance of bush and flower was gone. -Even the sun, as if he could not bear to look, had dropped -behind the hill; for something had edged between the -lovers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie's artless words made John remember as very, -very near, what, during this delicious hour in her -presence, had seemed to be worlds and worlds behind him, -in fact made him feel his shame and guilt so deeply that -he could no longer hold her in his arms. Then the -story of his infatuation for Marien Dounay came out, as -he had always felt it must, sometime, for the purging -of his own soul, even if it were she who would suffer -most,—the old, old law of vicarious suffering again!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie listened with white, set face, while John resolutely -spared himself nothing in the telling, but when the -look of hurt and pain took up its abode permanently in -those mild blue eyes, a feeling of yet more terrible -misgiving overtook him and he would have checked the -story if he could. But once started, his natural -shrinking from hypocrisy compelled him to tell the truth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can never know how I have reproached myself -for it," he concluded. "I have suffered agonies of -remorse. Wild with love of you, and the impulse to -declare that love, I have stayed away six months. It -seemed to me at first that I could hardly get my own -consent to come at all from her to you; that I must doom -myself to perpetual loneliness to expiate my sin. And -yet, Bessie," John made the mistake of trying to -extenuate, "it was probably not altogether unnatural, -knowing man as I begin to know him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To the young girl, facing the first bitter disillusionment -of love, it came like a flash of intuition that this -last was true; that men were like that—all men! They -were mere brutes! This intuition maddened the girl, -and her disturbed emotions expressed themselves in a -burst of flaming anger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You may go back to Marien Dounay," she exclaimed -hotly. "I do not want her left-overs."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," protested John, with something of that sense -of injury which a man is apt to feel if forgiveness does -not follow soon upon confession, "you do not understand!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I understand," retorted Bessie with blazing sarcasm, -"that you fell hopelessly in love with this woman; that -you embraced her, kissed her, worshipped the ground she -trod on; that you proposed to marry her almost upon the -spot; that she refused you and drove you from her; that -for a month you wrote me letters of hypocritical -pretense; that when she finally not only repulsed you but -revealed herself to you as a woman without character, you -considerately revived your affections for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John felt that in this storm of words some injustice -was being done him; yet he could not deny that such an -outburst of wrath upon Bessie's part was natural, and he -humbled himself before the blast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the vehemence of her demonstration, Bessie had -arisen, and after the final word stood with her back to -her lover, looking out upon the little lake which suddenly -seemed a frozen sheet of ice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bessie!" John murmured huskily, after an interval.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't speak to me, don't!" she commanded hoarsely, -without turning her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John obeyed her so humbly and so completely that she -began to wonder if he were still there, or if he had sunk -through the ground in the shame and mortification which -she knew well enough possessed him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When she had wondered long enough, she turned and -found him not only there but in a pose so abject and -utterly remorseful that her heart softened until she felt -the need of self-justification.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were my god," she urged. "You inspired me! -I worshipped you! I thought you were as fine a man as -my own father—and finer because you had a finer -ambition. I thought you were grand, noble, strong!" Bessie -stopped with her emphasis heavy upon the final word.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is not the strong man the one who has found in -what his weakness lies?" John pleaded humbly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But as before, his attempt at palliation seemed to anger -her unaccountably, and she turned away again with -feelings too intense for utterance—with, in fact, a dismal -sense of the futility of utterance. She wanted to get -away from John. She wished he would not stand there -barring the door. She wished he would go while her -back was turned. A sense of humiliation greater than -had possessed him, she was sure, had come over her. If -the lake in front had been sixty feet deep instead of six -inches, she might have flung herself into it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you love me!" pleaded John from behind her, -his voice coming up out of depths.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think I would care how many actresses you -lost your dizzy head over if I didn't?" retorted Bessie -petulantly, and instantly would have given several worlds -to recall the speech.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No! No!" she continued, stamping her foot angrily, -"I don't love you, I love the man I thought you were."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All the same, I love you," groaned John, rising up -to proclaim his passion hoarsely and then flinging -himself again upon the bench, where with head hanging -despondently, he continued: "I love you, and I don't -blame you for hating me, and you can punish me as long -as you want and in any way you want. You can even -try to fall in love with some one else if you like. Marry -him if you want to. I love you, and I'll keep on loving -you. No punishment is too great for the thing I've done."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The effect of this speech on the outraged Bessie was -rather alarming to that indignant young lady. When -John began to heap the reproaches higher upon himself, -she felt a return to sympathetic consideration for him -that was so great she dared not trust herself to hear more -of them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Take me home!" she commanded hurriedly, walking -swiftly by him, but with scrupulous care that the -swish of her white skirts should not touch the bowed -head as she passed, and no more trusting herself to a -second glance at that dejected tawny mop of hair than -to hear more of his self-indictment.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-house-divided"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE HOUSE DIVIDED</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>After parting from Bessie at her father's door, John -spent twenty-four hours in dumb agony at his hotel, -devoting much time to uncounted attempts to frame a letter -to her. But the one which finally went by the hands of -a messenger was a mere cry that broke out of his heart. -All it brought back was an answering cry,—four pages -with impetuous words rioting over them. There were -splotches of ink where the pen had been urged too recklessly, -and as John held it up to the electric light, he tried -to imagine there were watery stains upon it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That night Hampstead left Los Angeles for San -Francisco and spent an aimless Saturday brooding upon the -ocean beach, needing no sight of the jutting Cliff House -rocks upon which his lips had first touched Bessie's to -embitter his reflections. Sunday morning, however, as -early as nine o'clock, found him threading the graveled -paths of the little park in Encina, and taking his place -upon the rustic bench across from the dingy chapel. The -cleat remained on the door. God was still nailed up!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John could not help thinking that he, too, was rather -nailed up. Drawing Bessie's last letter from his pocket, -he held it very tenderly for a time in his hand, then opened -it to the final paragraph, which his eyes read dimly -through a mist that overspread his vision like a curtain of -fog.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall always love you, John," her pen had sobbed, -"—always; or at least, it seems so now. But you have -hurt me in what touches a woman nearest. I have tried -to understand—I think I have forgiven—but that full -confiding trust!—Oh, John!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The letter didn't cut off hope exactly; but it didn't -kindle any bonfires, either. As John read it, he felt -forlorn and helpless, and perceived that he had made rather a -mess of things generally.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And, in the meantime, there was absolutely nothing -more important for him to do than to sit on the park bench -before this wretched-looking, dishonored little church -and watch to see whether any children came to Sunday -school.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yes,—two were coming now. One was a little girl -of six or seven, in a smock immaculately white. She was -bareheaded, but her flaxen locks were bound with a bright -blue ribbon that just matched the blue of her eyes. Her -stockings were white, and her shoes were patent leather -and very shiny. She walked with precise, proud steps, -and looked down occasionally at the glinting tips of her -toes to make sure that they were still unspotted. Once -she stopped and touched them daintily with the handkerchief -she carried in her hand, and then glanced up and -around swiftly with a guilty look.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By her side walked little brother. He might have been -four. He might have been wearing his first pants; his -feet might have been uncomfortable; the elastic cord on -his hat might have been pinching his throat most -irritatingly, and probably was; but for all of that he trudged -along sturdily, as careful of his four-year-old dignity as -his sister obviously was of her motherly office.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stretched his legs, too, to take as long steps as she, -which was not so difficult, because his sister minced her -gait a little.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Together they swung around the corner, and their -feet pattered on the board walk leading across the sod -to the chapel. Involuntarily they stopped a moment -where Elder Burbeck had borrowed the plank, then -stepped over the hole and mounted with confident, straining -steps to the platform. The sister was now a little in -advance, one hand holding her brother's and lifting -stoutly as he struggled to surmount the unnatural height.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the door of the church was closed. This nonplussed -the little lady for just a second, after which she -thrust up her chubby hand and gave the knob a turn. The -door did not respond. She rattled the knob protestingly, -and then, looking higher, saw the plank nailed across.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this the small miss stepped back confounded, to the -accompaniment of childish murmurings. Little brother -did not understand. He clamored to be admitted to his -"Sunny Kool." The little woman tried again, but the -door baffled her most indifferently. However, after a -moment of wondering dismay, this tiny edition of the -feminine retreated no farther than to turn and sit down -upon the steps, first dusting them carefully, and inducing -little brother to sit beside her. Strength had been baffled, -but faith was still strong.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The eternal woman!" commented John reverently. -"So Mary waited at the tomb."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But other children were coming, and soon a fringe of -little bodies was sitting around the platform, and soon a -border of little feet decorated the second step, the girls' -feet neatly, daintily composed; the boys' feet restless, -clumsier, beating an insistent tattoo as they awaited the -appearance of some grown-up who could admit them or -explain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Teacher! Teacher!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One little girl set up the shout, and like a bevy the -smaller children swarmed across the street and into the -park to meet a very slender girl, perhaps sixteen years of -age, with her light brown hair in half a dozen long, -rolling curls that, snared at the neck by a wide ribbon, hung -half way down her back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Attended eagerly by this childish court, the babble of -their voices rising about her, the girl mounted the steps, -stood a moment in confusion before the locked and barred -door, then looked about her helplessly, almost as the -children had done.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is my cue," John declared with decision, rising -from his seat and crossing to the chapel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My name's Hampstead," he began, taking off his hat -to the girl. "I belong to the First Church, Los Angeles."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How do you do, Brother Hampstead," she responded, -in a voice that expressed instant confidence, while her -large eyes, blue as the sky, lighted with pleasure and -relief. "I am Helen Plummer, teacher of the infant class."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You seem to be embarrassed," John proceeded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whatever shall I do?" confessed the young lady, -looking at the barred door, at her charges about her, and -at John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John laid his hand upon the plank at the end where it -projected beyond the edge of the little, coop-like vestibule, -and gave it a tentative pull. It did not spring much. -Burbeck's nails had been long, and he had driven them -deep. But John was strong. He swung his weight upon -the end of the plank and it gave a little. He swung -harder, and it yielded more. Presently he heard a -squeaking, protesting sound from the straining nails, and -increased his efforts till the veins knotted on his forehead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bet y' he can't," speculated an urchin whose chubby -toes were frankly barefoot and energetically digging into -the sod of the lawn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bet yuh he will," instantly countered another, shifting -his gum.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I do hope you can!" sighed the fairy thing -with the curls down her back and the eyes like the sky.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That settled it for John. This plank was coming off. -Nevertheless, there was a pause while he mopped his -brow and considered. The result of these considerations -was to fall back for reinforcement on two cobbles of -unequal size chosen from the gutter, the larger of which he -used as a hammer while the smaller served as a wedge, till, -with a final wrench, the plank came free.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Elder Burbeck had locked the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A hairpin?" queried John of the sky blue eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have not come to hairpins yet," blushed the teacher -of the infant class.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John remembered the buttonhook on his key ring, and -after a few moments of vigorous attack with that humble -instrument the bolt shot accommodatingly to one side and -the door swung open.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you so much!" exclaimed the blue eyes, though -the red lips of pliant sixteen said never a word, but framed -themselves in a very pretty smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John acknowledged the smile with one of his broadest. -At the same time, he reflected that Miss Helen's failure to -regard as seriously unusual either the barred door or -its violent opening was significant of the state to which -affairs in the little church had come; and it was with a -grim sense of duty well performed that the big man -followed the trooping children into the chapel and looked -about him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The building was small, yet somehow it appeared larger -inside than out. The utmost simplicity marked its -furnishings. The seats were divided by two aisles into a -central block of sittings and two side blocks. The pulpit -was a mere elevated platform at one side, flanked by lower -platforms, one of which supported a cabinet organ. The -dull red carpet upon the floor was dreary looking; but the -walls and ceilings were neatly white, giving a suggestion -of lightness and cheer quite out of harmony with the -circumstances under which John had entered it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The twenty or more children massed themselves, as if -by habit, upon the front seats, and presently, with Helen -at the organ, Hampstead had them singing lustily one -song after another, while the size of the audience -increased by occasional stragglers until, during the fourth -song, two women appeared, each rather breathless, and -one with unmistakable evidences of having got hurriedly -into her clothes. John felt the eyes of the women upon -him suspiciously, and noticed that neither spoke to the -other, and that they took seats on opposite sides of the -church.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the end of the song, he walked over to the older of -the two ladies, who somehow had the look of a wife and -mother in Israel, and said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My name's Hampstead,—First Church, Los Angeles."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm Sister Nelson," replied the lady, a trifle stiffly. -"I teach a class of boys. But I thought the church was -closed till I heard the organ. Are you a minister?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Me? No!" And John smiled at the thought, but -he also smiled engagingly. Mrs. Nelson instantly liked -and accepted him and allowed her stiffness to melt somewhat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I just happened in," John explained, as he turned to -cross toward the young lady on the other side, who -appeared, he thought, to eye him rather more suspiciously -after such cordial exchange with Mrs. Nelson.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My name's Hampstead," he began. "First Church, -Los Angeles. I just happened in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm Miss Armstrong," replied the lady, with -conviction, as if it were something important to be Miss -Armstrong. "I was teaching a class of girls before Brother -Aleshire left; or rather, was driven away!" and the lady -darted a look that ran across the little auditorium like a -silver wire straight at the uncompromising figure of Sister -Nelson. "I thought there wasn't to be any Sunday -school until I heard the organ."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Guess I'm responsible for that," replied John. "I -just kind of butted in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Armstrong did not ask John if he were a minister. -She knew it was unnecessary after he said "butted in." But -she also felt the warmth of his engaging smile and -yielded to it after a searching moment, for he really did -look like a well-meaning young man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before the pulpit, and in front of the central block of -chairs where the children were gathered, was a huge -irregular patch in the carpet. This patch was about -mid-way between the two outer plots of chair-backs, in the -midst of one of which, like a solitary outpost, sat the -watchful Mrs. Nelson, while Miss Armstrong performed -grim sentinel duty in the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To this patch in the carpet, as to the security of neutral -ground, John returned after establishing his identity and -status with the two ladies, and from that safely aloof -position, after a moment of hesitancy, ventured to announce:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Since we seem somewhat disorganized this morning, -I suggest that Sister Nelson take all the boys, and Sister -Armstrong take all the girls, while Miss Helen will take -the little folks, as usual."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was evident from their respective expressions that -Mrs. Nelson did not know about this idea, and that Miss -Armstrong also had her doubts; but the children settled it. -The tots rushed for the small platform on the left of the -pulpit which had some kindergarten paraphernalia upon -it, while the larger boys charged for Sister Nelson and -began to arrange the loose chairs in a circle about her. The -larger girls made the same sort of an advance upon Miss -Armstrong.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Within five minutes, preliminaries were got out of the -way, heads were ducked toward a common center, and -there rose in the little church that low buzz of intense -interest, possibly more apparent than real, which an -old-fashioned Sunday school gives off at recitation period, -and which is like no other sound in the world in its -capacity to suggest the peaceful, bee-like hum of industry -and contentment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Standing meditatively in the center of the open space -before the pulpit, thrilling with pleasure at the situation, -feeling somehow that he had created it, John heard with -apprehension a quick heavy step in the little entry, saw -the swinging inside doors give back, and observed the -stern, red face of Elder Burbeck confronting him across -the backs of the middle bank of chairs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Elder had a fighting set to his jaw; he had his -undertaker hat upon his head; and he glared at John -accusingly as if he instantly connected him with the policy of -the open door. But as if to make sure first just what -mischief had resulted, Elder Burbeck's glance swept the -room, taking in by turns Miss Armstrong with her girls, -Sister Nelson with her boys, and Miss Helen with her -kindergarteners.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the Elder gazed, his expression changed perceptibly, -and he reached up and took off his high hat, lowering it -slowly, but reverently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, who had been standing perfectly still upon the -patch, meek but unabashed, experienced an odd sensation -as he witnessed this manoeuvre. It was dramatic and as -if some presence were in the room which the Elder had -not expected to find there. Yet, notwithstanding this, the -apostle of the </span><em class="italics">status quo</em><span> turned level, accusing eyes upon -John across the tiers of chairs, and began to advance -down the aisle upon the right where Sister Nelson had -seated herself. John, at the same moment, began a -strategic forward movement upon his own account, so -that the two met midway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You broke open the house of the Lord," charged -Elder Burbeck sternly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You nailed it up," rebutted John flatly, his features -grave and his whole face clothed in a kind of dignity that -to Elder Burbeck was as disconcerting as it was impressive.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 82%" id="figure-39"> -<span id="you-nailed-it-up-rebutted-john-flatly"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""You nailed it up," rebutted John flatly." src="images/img-194.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"You nailed it up," rebutted John flatly.</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Elder opened his mouth to speak but closed it again -without doing so. Something in the very atmosphere was -a rebuke to him. Perhaps it was the presence of the -Presence! He had indeed nailed up the house of the Lord! -He thought he had done a righteous thing, but under this -young man's eyes, burning with an odd spiritual light, -before his calm, strong face, and in the presence of these -children, the accusation smote the Elder deep. He began -to suspect that he had done a doubtful act.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Keep back thy servant also from presumptuous sins," -piped a high voice sharply at his elbow, and Elder Burbeck -started guiltily, as if his conscience had shouted the -sentiment aloud. It was only one of Sister Nelson's boys -singing out the text; nevertheless, the Elder was as shaken -as if he had heard a voice from on high.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But at this juncture John Hampstead put out his hand -cordially. Elder Burbeck took it—tentatively, almost -grudgingly,—and was again dismayed to feel how strong -that hand was and to observe how, without apparent -effort, it shook him all over, as it had shaken him that day -upon the walk outside. Yet the Elder mustered once -more the spirit of protest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The church was closed by order of the District -Evangelist," he urged, but his urging, even to himself, -sounded strangely lacking in force.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was opened in the name of Him who said 'Suffer -little children to come unto me and forbid them not,'" -replied the interloper, quietly and emphatically, but not -offensively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the meanwhile the subtle cordiality of John's -manner did not abate but seemed rather to grow, for, still -clinging to the Elder's hand, Hampstead walked with him -back down the aisle to the open space before the pulpit. -Burbeck felt himself strangely subdued. He was minded -to rebel, to flame up; but somehow he couldn't. Yet -Sister Nelson's eye was upon him, and it would imperil his -own leadership to appear beaten by this mild-mannered -young man who assumed so much so coolly and executed -his assumptions so masterfully. The alternative strategy -which suggested itself to the mind of the Elder was to -take the lead in showing that he recognized the intrusion -of Hampstead as somehow an intervention from which -good might come. To make this strategy effective, -however, action must be immediate; but the shrewd Elder was -easily equal to that. Sniffing the air critically for a -moment, he announced, loudly enough to be heard by all, -even by Sister Nelson, busy with her boys:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You need some windows open, Brother Hampstead! -You go on with your superintending; I'll attend to that -myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Immediately the Elder laid his tall hat upon the pulpit -steps and busied himself with opening the windows at the -top.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John watched him with carefully concealed amazement, -until an unmistakable awe settled in upon him; for here -was obviously the exhibition of a mystery,—the -demonstration of a power within him not his own. Here was -something he had not done; yet which had been done -through him, through the presence of the Presence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the lesson hour proceeded, a trickling stream of -adults began to filter in. Their attitude, any more than -Burbeck's had been, was not that of people who enter a -house of worship. Surprise, excitement, conflict was -written on their faces. They took seats in one side -section with Elder Burbeck and Miss Nelson, or upon the -other side with Miss Armstrong; and then, between fierce -looks across the abyss of chair-backs at the "disturbing -element,"—the other side in a church quarrel is always -that,—they bent a curious watchful eye on Hampstead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At first the notes of the organ had notified those in the -immediate neighborhood that the house of God was no -longer nailed up. Members of each party, fearful that -the other might gain an advantage, began at once to spread -the news in person and by telephone, so that now all over -Encina women were struggling with hooks and eyes and -curling irons, and men were abandoning Sunday papers -and slippers on shady porches, shaving, dressing, and -rushing in hot haste to the battle line.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the children filed out, the opposing groups of -adults remained buzzing among themselves like angry -hornets, but with no more communication between the two -ranks than bitter looks afforded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John, extremely desirous of getting well out of the zone -of hostilities, was actually afraid to leave these belligerent -Christians alone together. He thought they might break -into pitched battle; the women might pull hair, the men -swing chairs upon each other's heads. His fears were -abruptly heightened by a series of violent bumps on the steps -outside, followed by a trundling sound in the vestibule as -if a cannon were being unlimbered. Instantly, too, every -face in the little chapel turned at the ominous sounds, but -John was puzzled to observe that the expression of even -the bitterest was softened at the prospect.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was explained in part when there appeared through -the swinging inner doors not the muzzle of a fieldpiece, -but a lady in a wheel chair, who, though her dark hair had -begun to silver, was dressed in youthful white and had -about her the air of one who refused to allow mere -invalidism to triumph over the stoutness of her spirit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her vehicle was propelled by a solemn looking Japanese, -and as if by long understanding, one man slipped -forward immediately from each faction, and the two -made a way among the chairs for the Oriental to roll his -charge to the exact center of the unoccupied middle bank -of sittings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bestowing on each helper a look of gratitude from her -dark eyes, which were large and luminous, the lady sent -a benignant smile before her round the church like one -whose presence sweetens all about it. Evidently she was -one member of the congregation who observed a scrupulous -neutrality while holding the affection and regard of all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Angel of the Chair!" murmured Miss Plummer -in John's ear, as she passed to a seat with Miss -Armstrong.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John looked again at the form in the chair, so frail and -orchid-like, with its delicately chiseled face and its -expression of courageous spirituality. Remembering how the -features of all had softened at the sound of the wheels, -he felt that she well deserved the title. This impression of -her saintly character was somehow heightened by a chain -of large jet beads ending in a cross of the same material, -which the whiteness of the gown outlined sharply upon -her breast; so that John found himself instinctively -leaning upon her as a possible source of inspiration and -relief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From her position of carefully chosen neutrality, the -Angel of the Chair immediately beckoned Miss Armstrong -to her from one side and Elder Burbeck from the other. -Each approached, without in any way recognizing the -presence of the other; and Miss Armstrong was apparently -asked to detail what had happened, Burbeck's part, -it would seem, being to amend if the narrative did his -faction less than justice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The story finished, and the Elder nodding his assent to -it, the Angel of the Chair dismissed her informants and -turned a welcoming glance on John, who advanced with -extended hand, but judging that his formula of -introduction was now unnecessary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am Mrs. Burbeck," the lady said pleasantly in a rich -contralto voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead all but gasped. This delicate, spirituelle -creature that hard, red-faced partisan's wife! It seemed -impossible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Mrs. Burbeck was composedly taking from her lap -a twist of tissue paper from which she unrolled a simple -boutonniere, consisting of one very large, very corrugated -and very fragrant rose geranium leaf, upon which a -perfect white carnation had been laid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know, Mr. Hampstead," she went on placidly, -"what I am going to do?" and then, as John looked his -disclaimer, continued: "I have always been allowed the -privilege of bringing a flower for the minister's -button-hole. Brother Ingram would never take his flower from -any one else. When the rain kept me away, he would not -wear a flower at all. Brother Aleshire also took his -flower from me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," protested John, in sudden alarm, "I am not a -minister at all, you know. I just happened in, and I -assure you that all I am thinking of now is a way to happen -out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Angel, it appeared, was a woman with deeps of -calm strength in her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have been a real minister in what you have done -this morning," she said contentedly, entirely undisturbed -by John's embarrassed frankness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But how am I going to get out from under?" gasped -the young man, feeling more and more that he could trust -this woman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Angel of the Chair smiled inspiringly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Scripture has no rule for getting out from under," -she suggested quietly, "but there is something about -not letting go of the plow once you have grasped the -handles."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Angel was looking straight up at John now, searching -his eyes for a moment, then adding significantly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not think you are a quitting sort of person."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A quitting sort! John could have blessed this woman. -In two sentences she had felt her way to the principle he -had tried to make the very center of his character,—loyalty -to duty and everlasting persistence. Some people -rather thought he was a quitting sort. John knew he -was not, and to prove it bent till his buttonhole was in easy -reach of the hands uplifted with the flower.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And what," he asked, "does the minister do when he -has received this decoration from the Angel of the Chair?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was Mrs. Burbeck's turn to feel a flush of pleasure at -this appellation from a stranger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why," she smiled, her large eyes lighting persuasively, -"he goes into the pulpit and announces a hymn."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Which I am not going to do," declared John, "because -I should not know what to do next."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In that hour it shall be given you," quoted the lady.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now it was very strange, but when Mrs. Burbeck quoted -this, it did not seem like an appeal to faith at all, but the -simple statement of a fact. It chimed in, too, with that -odd suggestion of the presence of the Presence, which had -come to John a while ago.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Feeling thereby unaccountably stronger, and endued -with a sort of moral authority as if he had just taken Holy -Orders because of the carnation which bloomed so -chastely white upon his breast, John squared his shoulders -and mounted into the pulpit. There was something that -God wanted to say to these people, and he accepted the -situation as an obvious call to him to say it, but when he -essayed to speak, awe came upon him, as it had a while -before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Brethren," he confessed humbly, in a voice barely -audible to all, "I am not a preacher. I haven't got any -text, and I don't know what to say, except just perhaps -to tell you how I happened to be here this morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he told them simply and unaffectedly but with -unconscious eloquence how he happened to see the church -nailed up and how it sounded like the echo of the blows -upon the cross; how, this morning, with a sad ache in his -own heart, the thought of the faith of little children -disturbed by that brutal plank upon the door had brought -him all the way over here from his home in San Francisco -and led him to do what he had done. He even told them -of his meditative comparison between the houses of -people that looked so happy and the house of God that looked -so unhappy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But while John was relating this modestly, yet with -some of the fervor of unction and some comfortable -degree of self-forgetfulness, he was interrupted by a sound -like a sob, and looking down beyond Elder Burbeck to -where Sister Nelson sat, he was surprised to see a -handkerchief before her eyes and her shoulders trembling. -Over on the other side, too, handkerchiefs were out, so -that John suddenly realized that he or somebody had -touched something.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Who had done it? What had caused it? Once more -there came to the young man that eerie consciousness of a -power within him not himself, and the feeling frightened -him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all I have to say, brethren," he declared -abruptly, his voice growing suddenly hollow. "I am -terrified. I want to get away!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Without even the singing of a hymn, John lifted his -hand, bowed his head, and murmured something that was -to pass for a benediction.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="his-next-adventure"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">HIS NEXT ADVENTURE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Yet once out of the pulpit, John's sense of terror -seemed to leave him. With some of the people coming -forward to press his hand and even to wring it; with the -Angel of the Chair giving him a wonderful look from her -luminous eyes, he began to feel strangely, happily satisfied -with himself,—as though adrift upon an unknown sea -but without fear and joyously eager for the next adventure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That adventure came when blue-eyed Helen of the -Infant Class said pleadingly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Brother Hampstead! Will you call on Sister -Showalter this afternoon and read a chapter? She is very -ill and lonely."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," assented John recklessly. "But explain who it -is that's coming—a book agent—to read to her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John had no idea who Mrs. Showalter was; but they -gave him a number. He had no idea what a professional -clergyman reads to a sick woman; but that afternoon he -pushed his little New Testament in his hip pocket -somewhat as Brother Charles Thompson Campbell used to do, -and went out upon his errand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A faded, hollow-eyed, middle-aged woman met him at -the door, with a face so somber that in his instant thought -and ever after, John dubbed her the Gloom Woman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My name is Hampstead," he explained. "I called to -see the sick lady."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My mother!" answered the woman, in tones as -somber as her countenance. "She has been asking for -you for an hour. She is very low to-day. The doctor is -with her and he is apprehensive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Through air that was close with a sickish, sweetish -smell, accounted for by large vases of flowers and by a -small Chinese censer with incense burning in it, past -furnishings, that were meager, stuffy, and old-fashioned, -John was conducted to a large square room with the blinds -drawn low. In the center of this room was a huge black -walnut bedstead, with the head rising pompously high. -By the far side of the bed sat a professional looking man -in the fifties, with his chin buried in his hand and his eyes -meditatively fixed upon a very old and dreary face amid -the banked-up pillows,—a face of purplish hue that -seemed without expression except for a lipless, sunken -mouth, and eyes that glowed dully under sagging heavy lids.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother!" said the woman, speaking loudly, as if to -waken a soul from the depths, "this is Brother Hampstead!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The aged eyes roamed the shadows anxiously for a -moment, while a withered purple hand felt its way about -upon the coverlet till John touched it timidly with his. -Instantly and convulsively the old fingers gripped the -young, with a pressure that to the caller was damp and -deathly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The woman appeared to John almost lifeless. He felt -embarrassment and resentment. Why didn't they tell -him she was like this?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The hand was tugging at him, too, like a sort of -undertow, pulling him down and over. The watery old eyes -were fixed upon him. John's embarrassment increased. -What did the poor creature want? To kiss him? What -does a minister do in such a case, he wondered, sweat -breaking out on his brow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think she wants to say something; bend low so you -can hear her," suggested the mournful voice of the Gloom -Woman. John bent over till he felt the patient's hectic -breath upon his cheek, and shrank from it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The minister of God!" croaked the voice so faintly -that the words barely traveled the necessary six inches to -his ear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No man ever felt less like the minister of God. Hampstead -was hot, flustered, self-conscious, almost irritated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But again he felt the hand like an undertow, tugging -him down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Read to me!" croaked the ghost of a voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was something to do. A curtain was raised -slightly so that the visitor could see, and he read the -twenty-third Psalm and the twenty-fourth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Hampstead read, his embarrassment departed. He -began to find a joy in what he was doing. He let his rich -voice play upon the lines sympathetically and had a -suspicion that he could feel the strength of the sick woman -reviving as he read.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She likes to have the minister pray with her," said -the voice of the Gloom Woman from the background, -when the reading was concluded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again John stood gazing helplessly, till the old hand -dragged him down, and sinking upon his knees beside the -bed, he found that words came to him, and he lost himself -in them. His sympathy, his faith, his own sore heart and -its needs, all poured themselves into that prayer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once or twice as words flowed on, Hampstead felt the -old hand tugging, as though the undertow were pulling at -it, and then he noticed after a time that he did not feel -these tuggings any more; but when the prayer was finished -and he rose from his knees, the grip of the hand did -not release itself. Instead, the fingers hung on, rather -like hooks, so that John darted a look of inquiry at the -purplish face upon the pillows. To his surprise, the chin -had dropped and the eyes had closed sleepily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The doctor, who had been sitting with his hand upon -the pulse, gently placed the wrist which he had held across -the aged breast and stood erect, with an expression of -decision which no one could misread.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!" sobbed a voice from the gloom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead felt a sudden sense of shock, and his knees -swayed under him sickeningly. That was death there -upon the pillow; and that was death with its bony hooks -about his palm. Sister Showalter had gone out with the -undertow that pulled at her while he was praying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John lifted his hand helplessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It—it doesn't let go," he whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The doctor glanced at the embarrassed Hampstead -searchingly, then reached over and straightened the aged -fingers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Young man," said the physician earnestly and even -reverently. "She clung to you as she went down into the -waters. For a time I felt your young strength actually -holding her back, and then your words seemed to make -her strong enough to push off boldly of her own accord. -It is a great thing, my friend," and the doctor seemed -deeply affected, "to have strength enough and sympathy -and faith enough to rob death of its terror for a feeble -soul like that—a very great thing!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The earnestness of the doctor brought a lump into -John's throat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, sir," he murmured, but immediately was -lost in looking curiously at the thing upon the pillows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have another duty," said the physician, nodding -toward the shadows at the back, where a single heart-broken -wail had been followed by a convulsive sobbing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John went and stood beside the Gloom Woman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother is go—h-h-gone!" she sobbed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Hampstead simply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And somehow he didn't feel embarrassed at all now by -the presence of death. He did not hesitate as to what to -do. He just put out his hand and laid it in a brotherly -way on the woman's shoulder, noticing as he did so that -it was a frail, bony shoulder, and that it trembled as much -from weakness as with emotion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let the tears flow, sister," he suggested, "it is good -for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And the tears did flow, like rivers, and all the while -John's speech was flowing in much the same way, and -with tears in it, until presently the woman looked up at -him, surprised both at the manner and the matter of his -speech. Was it he who had spoken,—this man who said -he was only a book agent?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John too was surprised at his words, at their tone, at -the superior faith and wisdom which they expressed. He -really did not know he was going to say them. When -spoken, it did not seem as if it could have been he that -had uttered them, and he had again that awesome sense of -a power within him not himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You </span><em class="italics">are</em><span> a minister of God!" declared the Gloom -Woman with sudden conviction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead trembled. This was what the dead had -whispered to him. It frightened him then, it frightened -him now. He was not a minister of God. He was a -man misplaced. He wanted to get out and fly. Yet -before he could check her, the Gloom Woman had raised his -hand and kissed it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This made him want to fly more than ever; but he managed -first to ask: "Is there anything more that I can do?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was, it seemed, and he did it; and then, getting -into the outside as expeditiously as possible, he filled his -lungs with long, refreshing drafts of the sun-filtered ozone -and found his footsteps leading him, as if by a kind of -instinct of their own, down one of the short side streets to -where the waters of the Bay lapped soothingly against the -sea-wall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the Bay zephyrs could not wash that series of vivid -experiences, half-ghastly and half-inspiring, out of mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had blundered, all unprepared, into the presence -of death. His sense of the fitness of things revolted. -He was unworthy—unable—unclean. He—a book -agent! a rate clerk! an actor! who had held Marien -Dounay in his arms and felt his body thrill at the -beating of her heart!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet this old woman had called him a minister of God! -This Gloom Woman too had called him the same. -Minister! Minister! What was it? Minister meant to -serve. A servant of God! But he had not served God! -At least not consciously. He had only served humanity -a little. He had served the old woman as a prop to her -fears, like an anchor to her soul when she drifted out into -the deeper running tide that ebbs but never floods. He -had served the Gloom Woman when he stood beside her -while she opened the tear-gates of her grief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was very little! Yet that much he had really served. -To reflect upon it now gave him a sense of elation greater -than when he had beaten Scofield and his tariff -department; greater than when he had quelled the mob at the -People's; greater than when he had crushed Marien in -his arms like a flower; greater even than when Bessie had -looked her love into his eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He began to perceive that his life was surely mounting -from one plane to another and reflected that he had -reached the highest plane of all to-day when the Angel of -the Chair had pinned upon his coat the badge of Holy -Orders; when this other saint, sinking into the dark tide, -had hailed him a minister of God! Highest of all, when -this Gloom Woman, out of her soul's Gethsemane, had -wrung his hand and kissed it so purely and also hailed him -as Minister of God!</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>For some weeks the little chapel in Encina, its troubles -and its troubled members, continued to exercise a strange -fascination over John. Each Sunday he shepherded the -Sunday school and talked a blundering quarter of an hour -to the older folk who gathered; while between Sundays -he devoted an astonishing portion of his time to visiting -these wrangling Christians in their homes, for the -ambition to heal this disgraceful quarrel had taken hold on -him like some knightly passion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And in the midst of all these busy comings and goings, -odd, half-humorous reflections upon his own status used -to break in upon John's mind. Not a self-respecting -church in the communion, he knew, but would have eyed -him askance because he had been an actor. Only this -little helpless church, whose condition was so miserable it -could not reject any real help, accepted him; and that -merely in a relation that was entirely unofficial and -undefined. Still a sense of his fitness for this particular task -grew upon him continually; and it was really astonishing -how every experience through which he had passed had -equipped him for his peacemaker task: most of all those -pangs endured because of his break with Bessie, which, -although eating into his heart like an acid, yielded a kind -of ascetic joy in the pain as if some sort of character -bleaching and expiation were at work within him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the meantime, an arbitration committee consisting of -the District Evangelist, Brother Harding, and Professor -Hamilton, the Dean of the Seminary, was at work upon -the affairs of the little church. Both wings consented to -this, but with misgivings, since the one man they were -really coming to trust was Hampstead himself; and when -the night for the report of the arbitration committee -arrived, each faction turned out in full strength, with -suspicions freshly roused, and all a-buzz with angry -conversation as if the church were a nest of wasps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Things are pretty hot," remarked the Dean under -his breath, coming up to read the report.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They are awful," groaned the District Evangelist.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John presided, standing carefully on his neutral patch -in the carpet, and was dismayed and sickened by this new -and terrible display of feeling. He had come to know a -very great deal about these people in the last few weeks; -he had seen how some of these men struggled to make a -living; how some of these women bore awful crosses in -their hearts; how sickness was in some houses, cold -despair in others; how much each needed the strength, the -joy, the consolation of religion, and how large a mission -there was for this church and for its minister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the Dean was reading his report now, in a high, -lecture-room voice. It was very brief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As for the matters at issue," it confessed, "your committee -finds it humanly impossible to place the responsibility -for this regretful division. It believes the only -future for the congregation is in a wise, constructive, -forward-moving leadership which can forget the past entirely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It finds that such a leadership now exists in one -thoroughly familiar with the difficulties of the situation and -enjoying the confidence of both factions; and it recommends -that this congregation make sure the future by calling -to its pastorate the one man whom the committee believes -supremely fitted for the task, our wise and faithful -brother, John Hampstead."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The congregation had not thought of Hampstead as a -minister. He had not permitted them to do so. To them -this recommendation was a surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But to John it was a shock! His face turned a faded -yellow. His eyes wandered in a hunted way from the -face of the Dean to that of the Evangelist, and then -slowly they swept the congregation to meet everywhere -looks of approval at the Dean's words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," he protested breathlessly, like a man fighting -for air, "I am not a minister. I am a book agent. I -have been an actor. I am unfit to stand before the table -of the Lord, to hold the hand of the dying, to speak -consolation to the living beside the open grave! I am -unfit—unfit—for any holy office!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But his desperate protestation sounded unconvincing -even to himself. He had been doing some of these -things already and with a measure at least of acceptation. -All at once it seemed as if there was no resisting, as if a -trap had been laid for him and for his liberties; and he -struck out more vehemently:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Think what it means, you young men! I ask you -especially—" and John held out his hands towards them, -scattered through the audience—"What it means to -abandon life and the world by donning the uniform of the -professional clergyman! Wherever you go, in a train, -in a restaurant, upon a street, you are no longer free, but a -slave—to forms and to conventions. You must live up, -not to your ideal of what a minister is, but to the popular -ideal of how a minister should appear. It is a vow to -hypocrisy!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a vow also to loneliness. The minister is cut off -from the life of other men. No man thereafter feels -quite at ease in his presence, but puts on something or puts -off something, and the minister never sees or feels the real -man except by accident.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For a few weeks," and John lowered his voice to a -more tempered note, "I have been happy to do some -service among you; but I was free! As I walked down the -street I wore the uniform of business. No man could -say: 'There goes a priest; watch him!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Listen!" In the silence John himself appeared to be -listening to some debate that went on within himself, and -when he began to speak once more it was with the chastened -utterance of one who takes his hearers into a sacred -confidence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have had ambitions, brethren, and I have given them -up. I have had a great love and all but lost it. Failures -have humbled me. Disappointment and surrenders have -taught me some of the true values of life. I have tried to -gain things for myself and lost them. When I think of -seeking anything for myself again, after my experiences, -I feel very weak and can command no resolution; but -when I think of seeking happiness for others, for little -children in particular, for wives and mothers, for all -women, in fact, with their capacity to love and trust; for -striving, up-climbing men—yes, and the weak ones too, -for I have learned that the flesh is very weak—when I -think of seeking the good of humanity at large, I feel -immensely strong and immensely determined. For that I -am ready to bury my life in the soil of sacrifice, but not -professionally!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hate sham. I hate professionalism. I am done -with part-playing. I will not do it. I cannot be your -minister!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John's last words rang out sharply, and the audience, -seeing that the heart of a man with an experience had been -shown to them, sat breathless and still expectant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the silence, the voice of the District Evangelist was -presently audible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Brother Hampstead," he was saying quietly, "is a -man I don't exactly understand, but I think in his very -words of protest he has given us the reasons why he -should be a minister, and he has revealed to us why he has -gained your confidence. Because of his humility and his -sincerity, I feel that I can trust him. You feel that you -can."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," protested John, with a gesture of desperation, -"I am not educated for the ministry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have something more needed here than education," -interjected the Dean of the Seminary, still in his -lecture-room voice. "Besides, the seminary is but ten -miles away, by street car. You may complete the full -three years' course at the same time you are making this -little church into a big one!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Something in John's breast leaped at the prospect of a -college course, and the idea of making a little church into -a big one appealed to his inborn passion for definite -achievement; yet with it all came once more the feeling -that he was being hopelessly and helplessly entangled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," he struggled, looking with moist, appealing -eyes, first at Hamilton and then at Harding, "I have not -been ordained, and I have no call!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No call?" queried Dean Hamilton, laughing nervously, -as was his way of modifying the intensity of the -situation. "Your capacity to do is your call."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Being honest with yourself, do you not believe that -you can save this church?" argued Brother Harding.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John felt that he could, but his soul still strained within -him, and his eyes roved over the audience, the corners of -the room and the very beams in the ceiling, as if seeking a -way of escape.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly a man stood up in the back of the church.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will he take a side?" this man demanded excitedly, -with hoarse impatience. "What side is he on?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The very crassness of this partisan creature, so seething -with personal feeling that he understood nothing of the -young man's agony of soul, lashed the tender sensibilities -of Hampstead like a scourge, so that all his nature rose in -protest. From a figure of cowering doubt, he suddenly -stood forth bold and challenging.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No!" he thundered. "I will not take a side! The -curse of God is upon sides, and every man and every -woman who takes a side in His church! I will take the -Lord's side. I challenge every one of you who is willing -to leave his or her petty personal feeling in this controversy, -for to-night and forever, to come out here and stand -beside me. I place my life career upon the issue. I will -let your coming be my call. If you call me, I will answer. -If you do not, God has set me free from any responsibility -to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The questioning partisan sank down abashed before -such prophetic fervor. John stood waiting. No eye -looked at any other eye but his. The silence was electric -and pregnant, but brief, broken almost immediately by a -low, rumbling sound and the rattle of wheels against -chairs. The Angel of the Chair, propelling her vehicle -herself, was coming to take her place beside John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had barely reached the front when the tall form of -Elder Burbeck was seen to advance stiffly and offer his -hand to Hampstead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The venerable Elder Lukenbill, goat-whiskered and -doddering, leader of the Aleshire faction, hesitated only -long enough to gloat a little at this spectacle of his rival, -Burbeck, eating humble pie, and then, prodded from -behind, arose and careened on weak knees down the aisle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Others began to follow, till presently it seemed that the -whole church was moving; everybody stood up, everybody -slipped forward, or tried to. Failing that, they spoke, or -laughed, or sobbed, or shook hands with themselves or -some one near; then craned on tiptoe to see what was -happening down where half the church was massed about -the two elders, about the Dean and the Evangelist and John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Abruptly the tall forms of these men sank from view; -then the front ranks of people, crowding around, also -began to sink, almost as ripe grain bows before a breeze, -until even the people at the back could see that Brother -Hampstead was kneeling, with the yellow crest of his hair -falling in abandon about his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The long, skeleton hand of Elder Lukenbill was -sprawled over John's bowed head, overlapped aggressively -by the stout, red fingers of Elder Burbeck, while the -dapper digits of the Dean of the Seminary capped and -clasped the two hands and tangled nervously in the tawny -locks themselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With this laying on of hands," the Dean was saying, -still in that high lecture-room cackle, although his tone -was deeply impressive, "I ordain thee to the ministry of -Jesus Christ!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When, succeeding this, the voice of the District Evangelist -had been heard in prayer, there followed an impressive -waiting silence, in which no one seemed to know -quite what to do, except to gaze fixedly at the face of John -Hampstead, which continued as bloodless and as motionless -as chiseled marble; until, bowed in her chair, as if she -brooded like a real angel over the kneeling congregation, -the rich contralto voice of Mrs. Burbeck began to sing:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"Take my life and let it be</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Consecrated, Lord, to Thee,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Take my hands and let them move</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>At the impulse of Thy love."</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Presently her voice changed to "Nearer My God to -Thee", while other voices joined until the whole church -was filled with the sound, and when the last note had died, -the very air of the little chapel seemed tear-washed and -clear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In this atmosphere John Hampstead arose, and when -one hand swept back the yellow mass of hair, a kind of -glory appeared upon his brow. Once an actor, once a -man of ambition, he was now consecrated to the service of -humanity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he had not surrendered his love for Bessie Mitchell, -and Marien Dounay was still in the world, mounting -higher and higher toward the goal she had imperiously -set for herself.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-woman-with-a-want"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A WOMAN WITH A WANT</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Five years walked along, and great events took place. -The earthquake seized the San Francisco Bay district and -shook it as a dog shakes a rat. Fire swept the great city -on the peninsula almost out of existence; it made rich -men poor, and hard hearts soft—for a few days at -least—and by shifting populations and business centers, -affected the east side of the Bay almost as much as the west, -so that in all that water-circling population there was no -business and no society, no man or woman or child even, -that was thereafter quite as it or he or she had been.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In this seething ferment of change nothing altered more -than the circumstances of John Hampstead. He had -buried himself and found himself. He had sought relief -in a self-abandoning plunge into obscurity, yet never had -a minister so humble gained such burning prominence. -The town hung on him. Men who never went to church -at all leaned upon him and upon the things they read about -him from day to day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had gone upon a thousand missions of mercy; he -had fought for his lambs like a lion; he had faced -calumny; he had dared personal assault. He had -triumphed in all his conflicts and stood out before this -sprawling, half metropolitan, half-suburban community of -half a million people as a man whom it trusted—too -much almost.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Under his ministry in these five years, the wretched -little chapel had grown into the great All People's Church. -To attend All People's was a fad; to belong to it almost -a fashion. The newspapers daily made its pastor into a -hero, and the moral element in the population looked upon -him as its most fearless champion and aggressive leader.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But into this situation and into All People's one -morning a woman came walking, with power to shake it more -violently than an earthquake could have done.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The choir was just disposing of the anthem. The -Reverend John Hampstead sat, but not at ease, in his high -pulpit chair, which, somehow, this morning reminded him -of the throne chair of Denmark upon its stage in that barn -of a theater which at this very instant was only five -years—and five miles—distant; the chair from which he -used to arise suddenly to receive the rapier thrust of his -nephew, Hamlet. This morning a vague uneasiness filled -him, as if he were about to receive a real rapier thrust.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister's sermon outline was in his hand, but his -eye roamed the congregation. It took note of who was -there and who was absent; it took note of who came in; -but suddenly the eye ceased to rove and started forward in -its socket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Deacon Morris was escorting a lady down the right-center -aisle. To distinction of dress and bearing the -newcomer added a striking type of beauty. Her figure -was tall, combining rounded curves and willowy grace. -In the regularity of its smooth chiseling, her profile was -purely Greek. The eyes were dark and lustrous, the -cheeks had a soft bloom upon them, the lips were ripely -red; and if art had helped to achieve these contrasts with a -skin that was satiny smooth and of ivory creaminess, it -was an art contributory and not an art subversive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"More beautiful than ever!" murmured the minister -with the emphasis of deep conviction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The lady accepted a sitting well to the front. Her head -was reverently bowed for an interval and then raised, -while the black eyes darted one illuminative glance of -recognition at the man in the pulpit, a glance that made -the minister start again and confess to himself an error -by admitting beneath his breath: "No, not more -beautiful—more powerful!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lengthened scrutiny confirmed this judgment. Soft -contours had yielded, though ever so slightly, to lines of -strength. There was greater majesty in her bearing. -She was less appealing, but more commanding. John -reflected that it was rather impossible it should be -otherwise. The man or the woman who fights and conquers -always sacrifices lines of beauty to those muscle clamps of -strength which seem to sleep but ill-concealed upon the -face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Marien Dounay had conquered! In five years she -had mounted to the top. With the memory of her latest -Broadway triumphs still ringing, this very day her name -would be mentioned in every dramatic column in every -Sunday paper in America. To have uttered that name -aloud in this congregation would have caused every neck -to crane.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alone conscious of her presence, John found himself -counting the cost of her success. Part of that cost he -could see tabulated on her face. Another part of it was -the grisly and horrible intimation to the loathsome Litschi, -which he had overheard on the unforgetable night in the -restaurant. He found himself assuming that she had -paid this latter price and experienced a feeling of revulsion -at recalling how once this woman's mere presence, the -glance of an eye, the touch of a hand, the purring tones of -her voice, had been sufficient to melt him with unutterable -emotions. This morning, gazing at her through that -peculiar mist of apprehension, almost of fear, that had been -clouding his mind since before her entry, John knew that -she was a more dangerous woman now than then; and yet -the same glance showed that she was not dangerous to -him, for the dark eyes looked at him hungrily, with -something strangely like adoration in them, and there was an -expression of longing upon the beautiful face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he stood up to preach, she followed his every -movement and appeared to drink down his utterance -thirstily. Skilled now in spiritual diagnosis, the minister -of All People's read her swiftly. She had gained—but -she had not gained all. Something was still desired, and, -he could not help but believe, desired of him. Having -coldly driven him from her with a terrible kind of -violence, she had come back humbly, almost beseechingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So marked was this suggestion of intense longing that -the feeling of horror and revulsion which had come to -Hampstead with the entry of the actress gave way -entirely to an emotion of pity and a desire to help, and he -tried earnestly to make his sermon in some degree a -message to the woman's heart.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The position of the Reverend John Hampstead in All -People's Church and in the community round about was -due to no miracle, but had grown naturally enough out of -the strong heart of the man and his experiences.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When, for instance, in the early days at the chapel, -John missed the Pedersen children from the Sunday -school, and found their mother in tears at home because -the children had no shoes, and that they had no shoes -because Olaf gambled away his weekly wage in "Beaney" -Webster's pool room where race-track bets were made, and -poker and other gambling games were played, all in -defiance of law,—and when he found the police supine and -prosecutors indifferent,—the practical minded young -divine sent Deacon Mullin—who, to his frequent -discomfiture resembled a "tin can" sport more than a church -official—into Beaney's to bet upon a horse. When the -Deacon's horse won, and Beaney all unsuspecting paid the -winnings over in a sealed envelope, the next Sunday night -John took the envelope into the pulpit and shook it till it -jingled as he told the story which next morning the -newspapers printed widely, while the minister himself was -swearing out a warrant for the arrest of Beaney.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was the beginning, but to John's surprise it was -not the end. Beaney did not plead guilty meekly. He -fought and desperately, for this meddlesome amateur -clergyman had lifted the cover on a sneaking underground -system of petty gambling, of illicit liquor selling, and of -graver violations of the moral laws, which ramified -widely. Attacked in one part, all its members rallied to a -defence of the whole that was impudent, determined and -astonishingly powerful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead was unknown, his church small and -wretched and despised. His sole weapon was the -newspapers who would not endorse him, but who would print -what he said and what he did. What he said was not so -much, but what John Hampstead did was presently -considerable, for a few public-spirited citizens put money in -his hand for detectives and special prosecutors, and he -spent more hours that year in police courts than he did in -his church.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the end he won. The lawless element, sore and -chastened, acknowledged their defeat, while the forces of -good and evil alike recognized thus early the entry into -the community of a man whose character and personality -were henceforth to be reckoned with.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But while these battlings earned John publicity and high -regard, they also won him hate and trouble. The work -cost him tremendous expenditure of energy and sleepless -nights. It made enemies of men whose friendship he -desired. It brought him threats innumerable. A stick of -dynamite was found beneath his study window. Yet -John's devotion made him careless of personal danger. -He trembled for Rose and Dick and Tayna; he trembled -for the man who had crept through the shadow of the -palms to plant that stick and time that fuse, which mercifully -went out; but somehow he did not tremble for himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Besides, out of the shadow of danger, there seemed to -reach sometimes the flexing muscles of an omnipotent -arm. As, for instance, when an arrested gambler, out -upon bail, came into his study one night with intent to kill. -At first the minister was talking on the telephone, and -some chivalric instinct restrained the would-be assassin -from shooting his nemesis in the back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next John laughed at the preposterous idea of being -killed, failing to understand that the threat was earnest -or to perceive how much his caller was fired by liquor. -Such merriment was unseemly to the man on murder bent; -he found himself unable to shoot a bullet into the open -mouth of laughter, and fumbled helplessly with his hand -behind him and his tongue shamefacedly tied until the -minister directed his mind aside with a question about his -baby, following quickly with sympathetic talk about the -man's wife and mother, until the spirit of vengeance went -out of him, and he broke down and cried and went away -meekly with a parting handshake from his intended victim.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was only after the man had gone that John felt -strangely weak with fright and bewildered by an odd sense -of deliverance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet all these battles were only a part of John's activities; -nor did they grow out of a fighting spirit, but out of -a sympathetic nature, out of his passion for the hurt and -helpless, and his brave pity for the defenceless.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His impulsive boldness, his ready tact, and his disposition -to follow an obligation or an opportunity through to -the end, no matter where it led, had made him father -confessor to men and women of every sort and the unofficial -priest of a parish that extended widely on the surface and -in the underworld of the life about him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Naturally, All People's was extremely proud of its -pastor, of his broad sympathies and his devoted activities. -Impressionable ladies felt that there was something -romantic in seeing him stand yonder in the pulpit, so grave -and priestly; in seeing him come down at the end of the -service, so approachable to all; and in taking his hand, -not knowing whether some archcriminal had not wrung it -an hour before he entered the pulpit, or whether last night -those firm fingers might not have smoothed back the hair -from the brow of some dying nameless woman in a place -about which nice people could scarcely permit themselves -to think.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was even excitement in attending the church, -because one never knew who would be sitting next,—some -famous personage or some notorious one,—for Doctor -Hampstead won his friends and admirers from the -strangest sources imaginable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As to pulpit eloquence, there was admittedly seldom a -flash of it at All People's. By an enormous digestive -feat, John had assimilated that seminary course of which -the Dean had spoken, boasting that he read his Greek -Testament entirely through in the three years, upon the -street cars that plied between his home and the seat of -theological learning. But this did not make of Hampstead -a strong preacher, although the impression that he -might be, if he chose, was unescapable. His passion, he -declared, was not to preach the gospel but to </span><em class="italics">do</em><span> the gospel. -People sat before him spellbound, not by his eloquence, -but by a sense of mysterious spiritual forces at work about -them. At times, the mere exhalations of the man's sunny -personality seemed sufficient to account for all his -influence; at others there was that mysterious feeling of the -Presence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But as the membership grew and the sphere of its -pastor's influence extended, there began to be less and -less of his personality left for expenditure upon that -"backbone of the church" which had been there longest -and felt it first.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>More than once Elder Burbeck took occasion to voice a -protest over this. John put these protests aside mildly -until one day, when the minister's nerves had been more -than usually frazzled by a series of petty annoyances, -the Elder blunderingly declared that the church paid the -minister his salary and was entitled to have his services.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that the way you look at it?" asked John sharply. -"That you pay me my salary? Then don't ever put -another coin in the contribution box. I thought you gave -the money to God, and God gave it to me. I do not -acknowledge to you or to any member of this church one -single obligation except to be true in your or their soul's -relation. I owe you neither obedience nor coddling nor -back-smoothing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you don't realize," urged the Elder. "These -things were well enough when our church was small. -But now it is big. It occupies a dignified position in the -community, and all this riff-raff that you are running -after—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Riff-raff!" John exploded. "Jesus gathered his -disciples from the riff-raff! His message was to the -riff-raff! He said: 'Leave the avenues and boulevards and -go unto the riff-raff!' What is any church but -riff-raff redeemed? What is any sanctimonious, self-satisfied -Pharisee but a soul on the way to make riff-raff of -himself again? What gave this church its dignified -position in the community? Did you, when you nailed the -plank across the door?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elder Burbeck flushed redder than ever and turned -stiffly on his heel, not only inflamed by the crushing -sarcasm of this rebuke, but stolidly accepting it as one more -evidence that in his heart this minister of All People's -was much more human and much less godlike than many -gaping people seemed to think. Both the resentment and -the inference the Elder stored up carefully against a -day which he felt that he could see advancing, while the -minister, too intent upon his work to scan the horizon -for a cloud, hurried away upon another of his errands to -the riff-raff.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With this fanatic ardor of personal service now highly -developed, it was inevitable that the appeal in the eyes of -Marien Dounay should act like a challenge upon the -chivalrous nature of John Hampstead.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-cry-of-distress"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A CRY OF DISTRESS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>At the close of the service, Doctor Hampstead moved -freely and affectionately among his people, according to -his habit. To the Angel of the Chair, who during all -these five years had been his spiritual intimate and -practical counselor, until in his regard she stood frankly -canonized, went the last hearty handclasp, after which the -minister hurried to where the actress still waited in her -pew. Save for a dapple-whiskered janitor tactfully busy -in the far-off loft of the choir, the two were alone in the -large auditorium.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Dounay," John began in sincere tones, extending -his hand cordially, "I congratulate you heartily on -the splendid success that you have won."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He felt a sense of real triumph in his heart, that after -what had passed between them he was able to greet her -like this in all sincerity, although she had helped greatly -by receiving him with that odd look of worshipfulness -which he had discerned from the distance of the pulpit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, but please do not congratulate me," the -actress exclaimed quickly, while a look of pain came -undisguised into her eyes, and with a mere shrug of those -expressive shoulders she hurled aside all pretense at formal -amenities. "Oh, Doctor Hampstead," she began, breathing -his name in tones of respect that deepened into reverence, -and frankly confessing herself a woman in acute -distress by adding impulsively:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have gained everything we once talked about, and -yet I believe I am the unhappiest woman in the world."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was almost a sob in her voice as she uttered the -words, and the minister looked at her intently, with his -face more gravely sympathetic than usual.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am trying to revive something," she hurried on, as -if there was relief in thus hastily declaring herself, -"trying to get back something. You alone can help me. -My happiness, my very life, it seems to me, depends upon -you. Will you come to see me this afternoon at the -Hotel St. Albans, say at four?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should like to," responded the minister frankly, his -desire to help her growing rapidly; "but I have a funeral -this afternoon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then to-night," the actress urged, "after your sermon -is done?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As if anxious to forestall refusal, she gave him no -chance to reply, but continued with some display of her -old vivacity of spirit: "We will have a supper, as we -did that night you came in after the play. Julie is still -with me, and another maid, and a secretary, and -sometimes my 'personal representative.' Oh, I have quite a -retinue now! Do say you will come, even though it is an -unseemly hour for a ministerial call," she pleaded, and -again her eyes were eloquent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But it was not the hour that made John hesitate. He -felt himself immune from charges of indiscretion. He -knew that despite his youthful thirty years, he seemed -ages older than the oldest of his congregation, a man -removed from every possibility of error; one whose -simple, open life of day-by-day devotion to the good of all -who sought him seemed in itself a sufficient armor-proof -against mischance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He came and went, in the upper and in the underworld, -almost as he would; saw whom he would and where he -would. Jails, theaters, hotels, questionable side -entrances, boulevards and alleys were accustomed to the -sight of his comings and goings. If the stalwart figure -of the man loomed at midnight in a dance hall on the -Barbary Coast of San Francisco or in the darkest alleys -of an Oakland water-front saloon, his presence was -remarked, but his purpose was never doubted. He was -there for the good of some one, to save some girl, to haul -back some mother's boy, to fight side by side with some -man against his besetting sin, whether it be wine or -woman, or the gaming table. Therefore he could go to -call on Marien Dounay at ten o'clock at night at the -Hotel St. Albans as freely as on a brother minister at noon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What had made him suddenly withhold his acceptance -of the invitation was the entry of something of the old -lightness of spirit into her tones for a moment, -accompanied by the suggestion of a supper. He knew enough -of the whimsical obliquities of Marien Dounay's nature -to appreciate that he must meet her socially in order to -minister to her spiritually; but he did not propose that -the solemn purposes of his call should be made an -opportunity for entertainment or personal display.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, Marien had instantly divined her mistake. -"Doctor Hampstead!" she began afresh, and this time -her voice was low and her utterance rapid. "My season -closed in New York last Saturday night. I was compelled -to wait over three days to sign the contract for my -London engagement. The moment that was out of the -way, I rushed entirely across this country to see you! I -arrived this morning. I came here at once. Oh, I must -talk to you immediately and disabuse your mind of -something—something terrible that I have waited five years to -wipe out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She clasped her hands nervously, and her luminous -eyes grew misty, while she seemed in danger of losing -her composure entirely, an unheard-of thing for Marien -Dounay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her imploring looks and the impetuous earnestness of -her appeal were already leading John to self-reproach -for the sudden hardening of his judgment upon her; but -it was the last sentence that decided him. He knew well -enough what she meant, and something in him deeper -than the minister leaped at it. If she could wipe out -that grisly memory, the earliest opportunity was due her, -and it would relieve him exactly as if a smirch had been -wiped from the brow of womanhood itself. Besides, -there had always been to him something puzzling and -incomprehensible about that scene in the restaurant, -which, as the years went by, was more and more like a -horrible dream than an actual experience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will come, Miss Dounay," he assured her gravely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I am so glad!" the woman exclaimed with a -little outstretching of her hand, which would have fallen -upon John's on the back of the pew, if it had not been -raised at the moment in a gesture of negation as he -said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But please omit the supper. I am coming at your -call—eagerly—happily—but not even as an old -friend; solely as a minister!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This speech was so subtly modulated as to make its -meaning clear, without the shadow of offense, and -Marien's humbly grateful manner of receiving it -indicated tacit acknowledgment of the exact nature of the -visit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nevertheless, the minister found that in thus specifying -he had written for himself a prescription larger than -he could fill. Between the whiles of his busy afternoon -and evening he was conscious of growing feelings of -curiosity and personal interest that threatened to engulf -the loftier object of his intended call. Old memories -would revive themselves; old emotions would surge again. -The spirit of adventure and the spice of expectancy thrust -themselves into his thought, so that it was with a -half-guilty feeling that he found himself at the hour appointed -in the hotel corridor outside her room. He was minded -to go back, but stood still instead, reproaching himself -for cowardice. His very uncertainty gave him a feeling -of littleness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Eternal Loyalty was still and forever to be his guiding -principle; and should he not be as true to this actress -who had appealed to, him, who perhaps was to tell him -something that would prove she had a right to appeal to -him, as to any other needy one? Should he shrink -because of the irresistible feeling that it was more as a -man interested in a woman than as a priest to confess -a soul, that he found himself before her door? Should -all of his experience go for nothing, and was his -character, strengthened by years and chastened by some bitter -lessons, still so undependable that he dared not put -himself to the test of this woman, even though her -mysterious power was so great that she could command a man's -love and deserve his hate, yet send him away from her -without a hurt and feeling admiration mingled with his -horror!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a man with John Hampstead's chivalrous nature -to put a question like this to himself was to answer it in -the affirmative. Temptation comes to the minister as to -other men, and it had come to John. But had not Marien -Dounay herself taught him of what weakness to beware? -That flesh is flesh? That juxtaposition is danger? -Besides, should not the disastrous consequences which had -followed from his contacts with the woman have made -him forever immune from the effect of her presence?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John approached and knocked upon the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His knock was greeted with a sound like the purr of -an expectant kitten, and the knob was turned by Marien -herself, with a sudden vigor which indicated that she had -bounded instantly to admit him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her manner, in most startling contrast to that which -she had displayed at the church, was sparklingly -vivacious; but her dress was more disconcerting than her -manner; in fact, to the minister, it seemed that very same -negligee gown whose pleats of shimmering black with -their splotches of red, had clung so closely to her form -in those never-to-be-forgotten hours in the little -apartment on Turk Street in San Francisco. Her hair, too, -flowed unconfined as then. The picture called up -overwhelming memories, against which the minister in the -man struggled valiantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have not worn it since, until to-night," the woman -purred softly, happy as a child over his glance of -recognition; but when Hampstead, in uncompromising silence, -stood surveying her critically, she asked archly and a bit -anxiously, "Are you shocked?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," he replied a trifle severely, "you must admit -that this is not sackcloth and ashes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is my soul, not my body, that is in mourning," -Marien urged apologetically, trying the effect of a -melting glance, after which, walking half the length of the -room she turned again and invited him to lay off his -overcoat and be seated. John could not resist the -playful calculation of her manner without seeming heartless; -and yet he did resist it, standing noncommittally while -his eyes sought the circumference of the room inquiringly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And look!" went on Marien enthusiastically, for -she was trying pitifully by sheer force of personality to -recreate the atmosphere of their old relationship in its -happiest moments. "See, here is the Roman chair, or -at least one like it; and there the divan, piled high with -cushions; I am as fond of cushions as ever. You shall -sit where you sat; I shall recline where I reclined. We -will stage the old scene again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not the old scene," replied the minister, with quiet -emphasis, feeling just a little as if he had been trapped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Still his strength was always sapped on Sunday night; -and no doubt in utter weariness, one's power of resistance -is somewhat lowered. Besides, Marien was so beautiful -and so winning in manner; her arms gleamed so softly -in their circle of silk and filmy lace, and there was in the -atmosphere of the room an abundance of an indefinable -something which was like a rare perfume and yet was -not a perfume at all, but that effect of lure and challenge -which her mere presence always had upon the senses of -this man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Moreover, it seemed so fitting to see this exquisite -creature happy instead of sad that it would have taken -a coarser nature than John Hampstead's to break in -brutally upon her whimsical happiness of mood. He judged -it therefore the mere part of tact to remove his overcoat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Julie!" called Marien, and there was a not entirely -suppressed note of triumph in her tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The little French maid appeared with suspicious -promptness from behind swinging portières to receive the -coat and to give the big man, whom she had always liked, -shy welcome upon her own account.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>True to her nature, Miss Dounay's every movement -was theatric. She stood complacently by until the maid -had done her service and withdrawn. Then pointing to -the Roman chair, she said to Hampstead:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit there and wait. I have something to show you, -something beautiful—wonderful—overwhelming almost!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hesitating only long enough to see that the minister, -although a bit suspicious, complied politely with her -request, Marien, with dramatic directness, and humming -the while a teasing little tune, followed Julie out through -the portières, but in passing swung the curtains wide as -an invitation to her caller's eyes to pursue her to where -she stopped before a chiffonier which was turned obliquely -across the corner of the large inner room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marien's shoulder was toward John, but the mirror beyond -framed her face exquisitely, with its hood of flowing -hair and the expansive whiteness of her bosom to the -corsage, while the long dark lashes painted a feathery shadow -upon her cheeks as her eyes looked downward to something -before her on the chiffonier. For a moment she -stood motionless, as if charmed by the sight on which -their glance rested. Then, using both hands, she lifted -the object, and instantly the mirror flashed to the watching -man the picture of a swaying rope of diamonds. They -seemed to him an aurora-borealis of jewels, sparkling -more brilliantly than the light of Marien's eyes, as she held -them before her face for an instant, and then, with a -graceful movement which magnified the beauty of her -rounded arms and the smoothly-chiseled column of her -throat, threw back the close-lying strands of her hair to -fasten the chain behind her neck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For another second the mirror showed her patting her -bosom complacently, as if her white fingers were loving -the diamonds into the form of a perfect crescent, which, -presently attained, she surveyed with evident satisfaction. -Turning, she advanced toward her guest with hands at -first uplifted and then clasped before her in an ecstasy of -delight, while she laughed musically, like a child -intoxicated by the joy of some long anticipated pleasure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Upon a man whose love of beauty was as great as John -Hampstead's, the effect was shrewdly calculated and the -result all that heaven had intended.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wonderful!" he exclaimed, leaping up to meet her as -she advanced. "Splendid! Magnificent!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Each adjective was more emphatically uttered than the last.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Satisfied beyond measure with the effect of her -diversion, the calculating woman drew close with a complete -return of all her old assurance and stood like a radiant -statue, a happy flush heightening on her cheeks, while the -minister, entirely unabashed, feasted his eyes frankly on -the beauty of the jewels and the snowy softness of their -setting. When, after a moment, Marien made use of -his hand as a support on which to pivot gracefully about -and let herself down with dainty elegance into the midst -of her throne of cushions, Hampstead stood, a little lost, -gazing downward at the vision as though spellbound by -its loveliness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment the actress was supremely confident. -Breathing softly, her dark eyes swimming like pools of -liquid light, into which her long lashes cast a fringe of -foliate shadows, she contemplated John Hampstead, tall, -strong, clean, healthful looking, his yellow hair, his -high-arched viking brows, the look of kindliness and the cast of -nobility into which the years had moulded his features, -until it seemed to her that she must spring up and drag him -down to her lair of cushions like a prize.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she made no impulsive move. Instead, she -breathed softly: "Doctor Hampstead, will you touch -that button, please?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John complied courteously, but mechanically, as if -charmed. The more brilliant lights in the room were -instantly extinguished. What remained flowed from the -shrouding red silk of the table lamp so softly that while -all objects in the room remained clearly distinguishable -even to their detail, there was not a garish beam anywhere.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a fitting atmosphere for confession, and even the -diamonds in this smothered light seemed suddenly to grow -communicative, to multiply their luster, and to break more -readily into the prismatic elements of color.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"More and more beautiful," Hampstead murmured, -passing a hand across his brow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down!" Marien breathed softly, motioning toward -the Roman chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead was surprised to find how near the divan the -inanimate chair appeared to have removed itself. Had -he pushed it absently with his leg, as he made place for -her, or had she, or had the thing itself—insensate wood -and leather and plush—felt, too, the irresistible thrall of -this magnetic, beauty-dowered creature who snuggled -amid these silken panniers?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not know diamonds very well," the minister -confessed, sinking down into the chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look at them," Marien said, with a delightful note of -intimacy in her voice, at the same time lowering her chin -close, in order to survey the jewels as they lay upon her -breast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In John's eyes, this downcast glance gave Marien an -expression that was Madonna-like and holy, and this again -deepened his feeling of pity for her heartaches, and his -anxiety to help her in what it was her whim to mask from -him for the moment with all this childish play of interest -in her jewels and in her own beauty. But it also disposed -him to humor her the more, removing all sense of -restraint when he followed the glance of her eye to where -the more brilliant stones of the pendant lay in the snowy -vale of her bosom, or when, leaning closer still, he could -see that their intermittent flashing facets were responding -to the pulsing of her heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And what is the amber stone?" he asked innocently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Amber!" Marien laughed. "It is a canary diamond, -the finest stone of all. It alone cost four thousand dollars."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Four thousand dollars!" The minister drew in his -breath slowly. "It had not occurred to me that there -were such jewels outside of royal crowns and detective -stories," he stammered. "Four thousand dollars! -What did the whole necklace cost?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Twenty-two," the actress answered almost boastfully, -again bending to survey the blazing inverted arch of -jewels.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thousand?" The minister's inflection expressed his -incredulousness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thousand," Marien iterated with a complacent drop -of the voice, and then, while the fingers of one hand toyed -with the pendant, went on: "I have a perfect passion -for diamonds! That canary stone has temperament, life -almost. Perhaps it is a whim of mine, but it seems to me -that it reflects my moods. When I am downcast, it is dull -and lusterless; when I am happy, it flashes brilliantly, like -a blazing sun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is influenced by those whom I am with. It never -burned so brilliantly as now. Your presence has an -effect upon it. Cup your fingers and hold it for a moment, -and see, after an interval, if its luster does not change."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Astonished at the feeling of easy intimacy which had -been established between them so completely that he saw -no reason at all why he should refuse, Hampstead did as -he was bidden, although to hold the brilliant stone it was -necessary for the heads of the two to be drawn very close, -so that the tawny, wavy, loose-lying locks of the minister -and the dark glistening mass of the woman's hair were all -but intertwined, while the four eyes converged upon the -diamond, and the two bodies were breathless and poised -with watching.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently the man felt his vision swimming. He saw -no single jewel, but a myriad of lights. He ceased to feel -the gem in his hollowed fingers, and was conscious instead -of a soft, magnetic glow upon the under side of his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the same instant, he became aware that Marien's -eyes no longer watched the stone, but were bent upon his -face, and he felt a breath upon his cheek as her lips parted, -and she murmured softly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This word and touch together gave instant warning to -the Reverend Doctor Hampstead of the spell under which -he was passing,—a spell mixed in equal parts from the -responsiveness of his own nature to all beauty of form, -animate or inanimate, and from the subtle sympathy which -the rich, seductive personality of Marien Dounay had -swiftly conjured. The shock of this discovery was -entirely sufficient to break the potency of the charm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It did seem to change, I thought," the minister said -casually, at the same time slipping his hand gently from -beneath the jewel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the slightly altered tone in his speech and the easy -resumption of his pose in the chair, Marien perceived that -the minister and his purpose was again uppermost in her -caller.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As for John, slightly irritated with himself, and yet -feeling it still the part of tact to show no irritation with -Marien, he guided the situation safely past its moment of -restraint.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You said there was something you wished to tell me," -he reminded her gently; then added gravely: "That is -why I came to-night. I was to be your father-confessor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The considerateness of Hampstead's tone and manner -was as impressive as it was compelling. Marien's face -became instantly sober, and she fidgeted for a time in -silence as if it were increasingly difficult to broach the -subject, but finally she labored out:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You misunderstood me horribly once—horribly!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With this much communicated, she stopped as abruptly -as she had begun, while a frightened look invaded her -liquid eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Misunderstood you," Hampstead iterated gently, but -with firmness, "I understood you so well that except -through an impersonal desire to be helpful, I should never -have come here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The very dignity and measured self-restraint of the -minister's utterance robbed the woman of her usual -admirable self-mastery. She cowered with timid face amid -her pillows, as her mind leaped back to that night in the -restaurant with Litschi, and the terrible lengths to which -she had gone to shock this same big, dynamic, ardent -Hampstead from his pursuit of her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As if it were compromising himself to sit silent while he -read her thoughts and heard again in his own ears that -terrible speech, the minister went on to say sternly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know that I shrank then, as from a loathsome -thing, at the price you were willing to pay for your -success. I must forewarn you that the memory does not -seem less abhorrent now than the fact did then."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Hampstead bit out these sentences with a fire of -moral intensity burning in his eyes, the quivering figure -upon the cushions shuddered and shrank.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, John!" a broken voice pleaded. "Did I ever, -ever say those hateful words? Can you not conceive that -they were false? That they were spoken with intent to -deceive you, to drive you from me, to leave me free to -make my way alone, unhampered, as I knew I must?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister, his face still white and stern, his gray -eyes beaming straight through widening lids, declared -hotly: "No! I cannot conceive that a good woman -would voluntarily smirch herself like that in the eyes of a -man who loved her for any other single purpose than the -one which she confessed, an ambition that was inordinate -and—immoral. That thought was in your speech, and -by Heaven"—he shook an accusing finger at her—"I -believe it was in your purpose!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The woman cowered for a moment longer before -Hampstead's gaze, then a single dry sob broke from her, -while one hand covered her eyes, and the other stretched -gropingly to him, across the pillows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I had the purpose," she admitted haltingly. "I confess -it. Is it not pitiful?" and the lily hand which had -felt its way so pleadingly across the embroidered cushions -opened and closed its fingers on nothing, with a movement -that was convulsive and appealing beyond words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pitiful," the minister groaned. "My God, it is tragic!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," she went on presently, in a calmer voice that -was more resigned and sadly reminiscent: "I purposed -it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And there she stopped. Her tone was as dry as ashes. -This man had surprised her by revealing a startling -amount of moral force, which had quickly and easily -broken down her coolly conceived purpose to make him -believe that his sense of hearing had played him false that -night in the restaurant. She had, however, confessed -only to what she knew he knew; but the roused conscience -of the preacher of righteousness detected this and was not -to be evaded. He proposed to confront this woman with -her sin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You confess only to the purpose?" John demanded -accusingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The glance of the woman fell before his blazing eye. -She had meant to answer boldly, triumphantly; but the -sudden fear that she might not be believed made her a -coward, and forced the realization that she must not -attempt to deceive this man in anything.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sometimes one says more than one is able to -perform," she whispered weakly. "Sometimes a woman -names a price, and does not know what the price means, -and when the time of settlement comes, will not pay -it—cannot pay it—because there is something in her deeper, -more overruling than her own conscious will, something -that refuses to be betrayed!" The last words were torn -out of her throat with desperate emphasis.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John sat watching the woman critically, with an all but -unfriendly eye, while she struggled over this utterance, -yet the very manner of it compelled him to believe in her -absolute sincerity at the moment. Her revelation was -truthful, no doubt, but just what was she revealing? The -substance was so contrary to his presumption that his -comprehension was slow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean," he began doubtfully—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marien took instant courage in his doubt; he was -almost convinced.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean," she exclaimed, leaping up with an expansive -gesture of her arms, while the jewels, like her eyes, blazed -with the intensity of her emotion: "</span><em class="italics">I mean that I never -paid the price!</em><span>" Her voice broke into a wild crescendo -of laughter that was half delirious in its mingled triumph -and joy. Hampstead himself arose involuntarily and -stood with a look first of amazement, and then almost of -anger, as he suddenly seized her wrists, holding them close -in his powerful grasp, while he demanded in tones hoarse -with a pleading that was in contrast to his manner:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Marien, are you telling me the truth?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The woman faced his searching gaze doubtfully for an -instant; then seeing that the man was actually anxious to -believe her, she swayed toward him, weakened by relief -and joy, as she cried impulsively:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the truth! It is the truth! Oh, God knows it is -the truth!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The fierceness of the minister's grip upon her wrists -instantly relaxed, and he lowered her gently to the cushions, -where she sat overcome by her emotions while he stood -gazing at her as on one brought back from the dead, -expressions of wonder and thanksgiving mingled upon his -face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But presently a reminiscent look came into Marien's -eyes, and she began to speak rapidly, as if eager to confirm -her vindication by the summary of her experiences.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was hard, very hard," she began. "It commenced -in that first careless, ignorant year I told you about. I -was fighting it all the time; fighting it when you were with -me. That was really why I broke out of Mowrey's -Company. Men—such beasts of men!—proffered their -help continually, but not upon terms that I could accept. -It seemed, eventually, that I must surrender. I taught -myself to think that some day, perhaps when I stood at -last upon the very threshold—" she paused and looked -over her shoulder at some unseen terror. "But the time -never came. I burst through the barriers ahead of my -pursuing fears."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The actress ceased to speak and sat breathing quickly, -as if from the effects of an exhausting chase.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead turned and walked to the window, where, -throwing up the sash, he stood filling his lungs deeply with -delicious, refreshing draughts of the outside air. Coming -back, he halted before her to say in tones of earnest -conviction:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Marien"—he had called her Marien!—"I feel as if -the burden of years had been removed. Few things have -ever lain upon my heart with a more oppressive sense of -the awful than this vision of you, so beautiful and so -possessed of genius, consecrating yourself with such noble -devotion to a lofty, artistic aim, and yet prepared -to—to—" His words faded to a horrified whisper, and -finding himself unable to conclude the sentence, he reached -down and took her hand in both of his, shaking it -emotionally while he was able presently to say reverently and -with unction:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"God has preserved you, Marien. You owe Him -everything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was you who preserved me," she amended, with -jealous emphasis and that look again of hungry devotion -which he had seen first in the church. "It is you to whom -I owe everything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I preserved you?" Hampstead asked, now completely -mystified, as he remembered with what scornful words -and looks she had whipped him from her presence. "I -do not understand. We pass from mystery to mystery. -Is it that which you said you must tell me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No. I have told you what I wanted to tell you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The woman was again entirely at her ease, shrugging -her beautiful shoulders and yawning lazily,—a carefully-staged -and cat-like yawn, in which she appeared for an -instant to show sharp teeth and claws, and then as -suddenly to bury them in velvet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister stood gazing at her doubtfully.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="pursuit-begins"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">PURSUIT BEGINS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Both recognized that the time had come to close the -interview, and each was extremely pleased with its -result. Marien had demonstrated to her complete -satisfaction that this minister was still a man; that his flesh -was wax and would therefore melt. She believed that -to-night she had seen it soften.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As for John: He believed that this evening had -witnessed a triumph for his tact and his moral force. His -sympathy was wholly with the woman. Convinced -afresh that there was something sublime in her -character, he determined to give her every opportunity to -reveal herself to him, and to spare no effort upon his -own account to redeem her life from that ingrowing -selfishness which he felt sure was making her unhappy now -and might ultimately rob her of all joy in its most -splendid achievements.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall save three o'clock to-morrow for you," Miss -Dounay proposed, as if reading the minister's purpose -in his eye.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But John Hampstead was a man of many duties, whose -time was not easy to command.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At three," he objected, "I am to address a mother's -meeting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At four then," Marien suggested, with an engaging -smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At four I have to go with a sad-hearted man to see -his son in the county jail," John explained apologetically, -as he scanned his date book.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At five!" persisted Marien, the smile giving way -before a shadow of impatience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It must seem funny to you," he declared, "but I -have an engagement at five-thirty which makes it -impossible to be here at five. The engagement itself would -seem funnier still; but to me it is not funny—only one -of the tragedies into which my life is continually drawn. -At that hour I am to visit a poor woman who lives on a -house boat on the canal. Monday is her husband's pay -day, and he invariably reaches home on that night -inflamed with liquor, and abuses the woman outrageously. -I have promised to be with her when he comes in. I -may wait an hour, and I may wait half the night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh," gasped Marien, with a note of apprehension. -"And suppose he turns his violence on you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, then I shall defend myself," John answered, -good-humoredly, "but without hurting Olaf."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am likely to spend the night on that canal boat," -he added, "and in the morning Olaf will be ashamed -and perhaps penitent. He may thank me and ask me -to meet him at the factory gate next Monday night and -walk home with him to make sure that his pay envelope -gets safely past the door of intervening saloons."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But why so much concern about unimportant people -like that?" questioned Marien, her eyes big with -curiosity and wonder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Any person in need is important to me," confessed -John modestly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But how can you spare the time from the regular -work of the church?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is my regular work."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marien paused a moment as if baffled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But—but I thought a minister's work was to preach—so -eloquently that people will not get drunk; to pray, -so earnestly that God will make men strong enough to -resist temptation."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But suppose," smiled John, "that I am God's -answer to prayer, his means of helping Olaf to resist -temptation. That is the mission of my church, at least -that is my ideal for it; not a group of heaven-bound -joy-riders, but a life-saving crew. There are twenty men -in my church who would meet Olaf at a word from me -and walk home with him every night till he felt able to -get by the swinging doors upon his own will."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marien's eyes were shining with a new light.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is practical religion," she declared.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cut out the modifier," amended John. "That </span><em class="italics">is</em><span> -religion! There are," he went on, "even some in my -congregation who would take my watch upon the canal -boat; but I prefer to go myself because—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because," Marien broke in suddenly, "because it -is dangerous." Her glance was full of a new admiration -for the quiet-speaking man before her, in whose eyes -burned that light of almost fanatical ardor which she -and others had marked before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"More because it is a delicate responsibility," the -minister amended once more. "Tact that comes with -experience is essential, as well as strength."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And do you do many things like that?" Marien -asked, deeply impressed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Each day is like a quilt of crazy patchwork," John -laughed, and then added earnestly: "You would -hardly believe the insight I get into lives of every sort -and at every stage of human experience, divorces, -quarrels, feuds, hatreds, crimes, loves, collapses of health or -character or finance—crises of one sort or another, that -make people lean heavily upon a man who is disinterestedly -and sympathetically helpful."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And your reward for all this busybodying?" the -actress finally asked, at the same time forcing a laugh, -as if trying to make light of what had compelled her to -profound thought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A sufficient reward," answered John happily, "is -the grateful regard in which hundreds, and I think I may -even say thousands, of people throughout the city hold -me: this, and the ever-widening doors of opportunity -are my reward. These things could lift poorer clay -than mine and temper it like steel. The people lean upon -me. I could never fail them, and they could never fail me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The exalted confidence of the man, as he uttered these -last words, which were yet without egotism, suggested -the tapping of vast reservoirs of spiritual force, and as -before, this awed Marien a little; but it also aroused a -petty note in her nature, filling her with a jealousy like -that she had experienced in the church when she saw -John surrounded by all those people who seemed to take -possession of him so absolutely and with such disgusting -self-assurance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Manoeuvering her features into something like a pout, -she asked mockingly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And since you would not leave your mother's -meeting and your jail-bird and your wife-beater for me, is -there any time at all when an all-seeing Providence -would send you again to the side of a lonely woman?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister smiled at the irony, while scanning once -more the pages of his little date-book. "To look in after -prayer meeting about nine-thirty on Wednesday night -would be my next opportunity, I should say," he reported -presently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wednesday!" complained Marien. "It is three -eternities away. However," and her voice grew crisp -with decision, "Wednesday night it shall be. In the -meantime, do you speak anywhere? I shall attend the -mother's meeting, if you will tell me where it is. I -shall even come to prayer meeting; and," she concluded -vivaciously; "you will be borne away by me triumphantly -in my new French car, which was sent out here -weeks and weeks ago to be tuned up and ready for my -coming."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On Wednesday night Miss Dounay made good her -word. When the little prayer-meeting audience emerged -from the chapel room of All People's, it gazed -wonderingly at a huge black shape on wheels that rested at -the curb with two giant, fiery eyes staring into the night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old sexton, looking down from the open doorway, -saw his pastor shut into this luxurious equipage -with two strange women, for Marien was properly -accompanied by Julie, and nodded his head with emphatic -approval.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Some errand of mercy," he mumbled with fervency. -"Brother Hampstead is the most helpful man in the -world."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nor was this the last appearance of Marien Dounay's -shining motor-car before the door of All People's. It -was seen also in front of the palm-surrounded cottage -on the bay front, where John Hampstead lived with his -sister, Rose, and the children, and enjoyed, at times, -some brief seclusion from his busy, pottering life of -general helpfulness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once the car even stopped before the home of the -Angel of the Chair, perhaps because Hampstead had told -Marien casually that of all women Mrs. Burbeck had -alone been consistently able to understand him, and the -actress wished to learn her secret. But the Angel of the -Chair, while quite unabashed by the glamour of the -actress-presence, nevertheless refused entirely to be drawn -into talk about Brother Hampstead, who was usually the -most enthusiastic subject of her conversation. Instead -she spent most of the time searching the depths of Miss -Dounay's baffling eyes with a look from her own -luminous orbs, half-apprehensive and half-appealing, that -made the caller exceedingly uncomfortable; so that -Marien would have accounted the visit fruitless and even -unpleasant, if she had not, while there, chanced to meet -the young man known to fortune and the social registers -as Rollo Charles Burbeck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollo was the darling son of the Angel and the pride -of the Elder's heart. Tall, blond, handsome, and -twenty-eight, endowed with his mother's charm of manner and -a certain mixture of the coarse practicality and instinct -for leadership which his father possessed, the young man -had come to look upon himself as a sort of favorite of -the fickle goddess for whom nothing could be expected -to fall out otherwise than well. Without money and -without prestige, in fact, without much real ability, and -more because as a figure of a youth he was good to look -upon and possessed of smooth amiability, Rollie, as his -friends and his doting mother called him, had risen -through the lower rounds of the Amalgamated National -to be one of its assistant cashiers and a sort of social -handy-man to the president, very much in the sense that -this astute executive had political handy-men and -business handy-men in the capacity of directors, -vice-presidents, and even minor official positions in his bank.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But there were, nevertheless, some grains of sand in -the bearings of Rollo's spinning chariot wheels.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In his capacity as an Ambassador to the Courts of -Society, he had the privilege of leaving the bank quite -early in the afternoon, when his presence at some -daylight function might give pleasure to a hostess whose -wealth or influence made her favor of advantage to the -Amalgamated National. He might sometimes place -himself and a motor-car at the disposal of a distinguished -visitor from outside the city, might dine this visitor and -wine him, might roll him far up the Piedmont Heights, -and spread before his eye that wonderful picture of -commercial and industrial life below, clasped on all sides by -the blue breast and the silvery, horn-like arms of the Bay -of San Francisco.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All these things, of course, involved expenditures of -money as well as time. The bills for such expenditures -Rollo might take to the president of the bank, who wrote -upon them with his fat hand and a gold pencil, -"O.K.—J.M." after which they were paid and charged to a -certain account in the bank entitled: "Miscellaneous." This, -not unnaturally, got Rollie, in the course of a -couple of years, into luxurious habits. After eating a -seven-dollar dinner with the financial man of a Chicago -firm of bond dealers, it was not the easiest thing in the -world to content himself the next day with the fifty-cent -luncheon which his own salary permitted. Furthermore, -Rollo, because of his standing at the bank and his social -gifts, was drawn into clubs, played at golf, or dawdled -in launches, yachts, or automobiles with young men of -idle mind who were able to toss out money like confetti. -It was inevitable that circumstances should arise under -which Rollo also had to toss, or look to himself like the -contemptible thing called "piker." Consequently, he -frequently tossed more than he could afford, and -eventually more than he had.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To meet this drain upon resources the debonair youth -did not possess, Rollie resorted to undue fattening of his -expense accounts, but, when the amounts became too -large to be safely concealed by this means from the -scrutiny of J.M., he had dangerous recourse to misuse -of checks upon a certain trust fund of which he was the -custodian. He did this reluctantly, it must be understood, -and was always appalled by the increasing size of -the deficit he was making. He knew too that some day -there must come a reckoning, but against that inevitable -day several hopes were cherished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One was that old J.M., brooding genius of the Amalgamated -National, might become appreciative and double -Rollie's salary. Yet the heart of J.M. was traditionally -so hard that this hope was comparatively feeble. In fact, -Rollie would have confessed himself that the lottery -ticket which he bought every week, and whereby he stood -to win fifteen thousand dollars, was a more solid one. -Besides this, hope had other resources. There were, for -instance, the "ponies" which part of the year were -galloping at Emeryville, only a few miles away, and there -were other race tracks throughout the country, and pool -rooms conveniently at hand. While Rollie was too timid -to lose any great sum at these, nevertheless they proved -a constant drain, and the only real asset of his almost -daily venturing was the doubtful one of the friendship -of "Spider" Welsh, the bookmaker.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie's first test of this friendship was made -necessary by the receipt of a letter notifying him that the -executors of the estate which included the trust fund -he had been looting would call the next day at eleven for -a formal examination of the account. Rollie at the -moment was more than fifteen hundred dollars short, and -getting shorter. That night he went furtively through -an alley to the back room of the bookmaker.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me have seventeen hundred, Spider, for three -days, and I'll give you my note for two thousand," he -whispered nervously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What security?" asked the Spider, craft and money-lust -swimming in his small, greenish-yellow eye.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My signature's enough," said Rollie, bluffing weakly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothin' doin'," quoth the Spider decisively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cold sweat broke out on Rollie's brow faster than He -could wipe it off.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll make it twenty-five hundred," the young man -said hoarsely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Spider looked interested. He leaned across the table, -his darting, peculiar glance shifting searchingly from -first one of Rollie's eyes to the other, his form half -crouching, his whole body alert, cruelty depicted on his -face and suggesting that his nickname was no accident -but a sure bit of underworld characterization.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Make it three thousand, and I'll lay the money in -your hand," said the Spider coldly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie's case was desperate. He drew a blank note -from his pocket, filled it, and signed it; then passed it -across the table. But with the Spider's seventeen -hundred deep in his trousers pockets, the feeling that he had -been grossly taken advantage of seemed to demand of -Rollie that his manhood should assert itself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Spider, you are a thief!" he proclaimed truculently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I guess you must be one yourself, or you wouldn't -want seventeen hundred in such a hell of a hurry," was -Spider's cool rejoinder, as he practically shoved Rollie -out of his back door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now this retort of Spider's was quite a shock to -Rollie; but there are shocks and shocks. Moreover, when -the executors upon their scheduled hour came to Rollo -Charles Burbeck, trustee, and found his accounts and -cash balancing to a cent, which was exactly as they -expected to find them, why this in itself was some -compensation for taking the back-talk even of a bookmaker.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the next day Spider Welsh's roll was the fatter by -three thousand dollars, and the trust account was short -the same amount.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thereafter, and despite good resolutions, the size of -the defalcation began immediately to grow again, -although Rollo, if he suffered much anxiety on that -account, concealed it admirably. He knew that under the -system he was safe for the present, and outwardly he -moulted no single feather, but wore his well tailored -clothes with the same sleek distinction, and laughed, -chatted, and danced his way farther and farther into the -good graces of clambering society, partly sustained by -the hope that even though lotteries and horse races failed -him, and the "Old Man's" heart proved adamant, some -rich woman's tender fancy might fasten itself upon him, -and a wealthy marriage become the savior of his -imperiled fortunes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was while still in this state of being, but with that -semi-annual turning over of dead papers again only a -few weeks distant, Rollo was greatly amazed to blunder -into the presence of Marien Dounay in his mother's -sun-room at four o'clock one afternoon, when chance had -sent him home to don a yachting costume. A little out -of touch with things at All People's, the young man's -surprise at finding Miss Dounay tête-à-tête with his own -mother was the greater by the fact that he knew a score -of ambitious matrons who were at the very time pulling -every string within their reach to get the actress on -exhibition as one of their social possessions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Because young Burbeck's interest in women was by -the nature of his association with them largely -mercenary, and just now peculiarly so on account of his own -haunting embarrassment, he was rather impervious to the -physical charms of Miss Dounay herself. He only saw -something brilliant, dazzling, convertible, and exerted -himself to impress her favorably, postponing the -departure upon his yachting trip dangerously it would seem, -had not the two got on so well together that the actress -offered to take him in her car to shorten his tardiness at -the yacht pier.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After this, acquaintance between the two young -people ripened swiftly. Because John Hampstead was so -busy, Marien had an abundance of idle time upon her -hands. Agitated continually by a cat-like restlessness, -seeking a satiety she was unable to find, the actress had -no objections to spending a great deal of this idle time -upon Rollo. He rode with her in that swift-scudding, -smooth-spinning foreign car. She sailed with him upon -the bay in a tiny cruising sloop that courtesy dubbed a -yacht. More than once she entertained Rollie with one -of these delightful Bohemian suppers served in her hotel -suite, sometimes with other guests and sometimes -flatteringly alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie enjoyed all of this, but without succumbing -seriously. His spread of canvas was too small, he -carried too much of the lead of deep anxiety upon his -centerboard to keel far over under the breeze of her stiffest -blandishments; but all the while he held her acquaintance -as a treasured asset, introducing her to about-the-Bay -society with such calculating discrimination as to put -under lasting obligations to himself not only Mrs. von -Studdeford, his friend and patron, but certain other -carefully chosen mistresses of money.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As for Marien, her triumphs were still too recent, her -vanity was still too childish, not to extract considerable -enjoyment from being Exhibit "A" at the most -important social gatherings the community offered; but her -complacence was at all times modified by moods and -caprices. She would disappoint Rollie's society friends -for the most unsubstantial reasons and appeared to think -her own whimsical change of purpose an entirely -sufficient explanation. Sometimes she did not even bother -about an explanation, and her manner was haughty in -the extreme.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her most vexatious trick of the kind was to disappear -one night five minutes before she was to have gone with -Rollie to be guest of honor at a dinner given by -Mrs. Ellsworth Harrington. The hostess raged inconsolably, -taking her revenge on Rollie in words and looks which, -in her quarter, proclaimed thumbs down for long upon -that unfortunate, adventuring youth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Take me about nine hundred and ninety-nine years -to square myself with that double-chinned queen," -muttered Rollie, standing at eleven o'clock of the same -night upon the corner opposite the Hotel St. Albans -and looking up inquisitively at the suite of Miss -Dounay, which was on the floor immediately beneath -the roof.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man's hat was pushed back so that his -forehead seemed almost high and, in addition to its -seeming, the brow wore a disconsolate frown.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Looks as if I'd kind of lost my rabbit's foot," he -murmured, relaxing into a vernacular that neither -Mrs. Harrington, Mrs. von Studdeford, nor other ladies of -their class would have deemed it possible to flow from -the irreproachable lips of Rollo Charles Burbeck. Yet -his friends should have been very indulgent with Rollie -to-night! The world had grown suddenly hard for him. -The executors were due again to-morrow; and his deficit -had passed four thousand dollars.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So desperate was his plight that for an hour that -afternoon Rollie had actually thought of throwing himself -upon the mercy of Mrs. Ellsworth Harrington, who had -hundreds of thousands in her own right, and who might -have saved him with a scratch of the pen. Her heart -had been really soft toward Rollie, too, but Marien's -caprice to-night had spoiled all chance of that. Nothing -remained but the Spider. Rollie had an appointment -with him in fifteen minutes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But in the meantime he indulged a somber, irritated -curiosity concerning Miss Dounay. Since staring -upward at her windows brought no satisfaction he had -recourse to the telephone booth in the hotel lobby, and got -the information that Miss Dounay was out but had left -word that if Mr. Burbeck called he was to be told he -was expected at ten-thirty and there would be other guests.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That meant supper, and a lively little time. No doubt -the actress would try to make amends. Well, Rollie -would most surely let her. He had no intention of -quarreling with an asset, even though occasionally it turned -itself into a liability. But it was now past ten-thirty, -ten forty-seven, to be exact, and his engagement with the -Spider was at eleven. However, since his hostess was -still out, and therefore would be late at her own party, -his prospective tardiness gave the young man no concern.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But, on leaving the telephone booth and advancing -through the wide lobby of the hotel, young Burbeck was -surprised to see Miss Dounay's car driven up to the curb. -There she was, the beautiful devil! Where could she -have been? Yet, since Rollie's curiosity and his wish -for an explanation of her conduct were nothing like -so great as his desire to avoid meeting her until this -business with the Spider was off his mind, he executed an -oblique movement in the direction of the side exit; but -not until a shoulder-wise glance had revealed to him the -stalwart form of the Reverend John Hampstead emerging -first from the Dounay limousine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The preacher!" he muttered in disgusted tones, "I -thought so. She's nuts on him; or he is on her, or -something. Say!" and the young man came to an abrupt -stop, while his eyes opened widely, and his nostrils -sniffed the air as if he scented scandal. "I wonder if -she tried the same line of stuff on the parson, and he's -falling for it? It certainly would be tough on mother -if anything went wrong with her sky pilot."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, Rollie's own exigencies were too great for -him to forget them long, even in contemplating the -prospective downfall of a popular idol, and he made his way -to his engagement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie was a long time with Spider. Part of this -delay was due to the fact that the Spider was broke. He -did not have forty-two hundred dollars, nor any -appreciable portion thereof. Another part of the delay was -due to the fact that Spider took some time in elaborating -a plan to put both Rollie and himself in possession of -abundant funds. The plan was grasped upon quickly, -but, being a detestable coward, Rollie halted long before -undertaking an enterprise that required the display of -nerve and daring under circumstances where failure -meant instant ruin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, there was at least a gambler's chance, while -with the executors to-morrow there was no chance. -Inevitably, therefore, the young man, white of face, with a -lump in his throat and a flutter in his breast, gripped -with his cold, nerveless hand the avaricious palm of -Spider, and the bargain was made. Even then, however, -there was a stage wait while an emissary of the Spider's -went on a dive-scouring tour that in twenty minutes -turned up a short-haired, scar-nosed shadow of a man -who answered to the name of the "Red Lizard", a -designation which the fiery hue of his skin and the slimy -manner of the creature amply justified.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once out of Spider's place, Rollie lingered in the alley -long enough to screw his scant courage to the place where -it would stick for a few hours at least; and at precisely -half-past eleven, looking his handsome, debonair self, -his open overcoat revealing him still in evening dress, and -with his silk hat self-confidently a-tilt, he sauntered -nonchalantly through the lobby of the Hotel St. Albans to -an elevator which bore him skyward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The pride of the Elder and the son of the Angel, the -social ambassador of the Amalgamated National, was -prepared once more to do his duty by his fortune.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="capricious-woman"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">CAPRICIOUS WOMAN</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>With more than a month of odd hours invested upon -Marien Dounay, the Reverend John Hampstead had -reluctantly made up his mind that failure must be written -over his efforts in her behalf.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had never told him the secret want which was -making her unhappy. Her manner and her mood varied -from flights of ecstasy, bordering on intoxication of -spirit, to depths of depression which suggested that the -gifted woman was suffering from some sort of mania. -She was always eager to see him, always clamoring for -more of his time, and yet after the first week or so he -never left her presence without being made to feel that -her hours with him had been a disappointment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To tell the truth, he had himself been greatly -disappointed in her. She appeared to him altogether -frivolous, altogether worldly. He was completely convinced -that she had not only toyed with him years ago, but was -toying with him now, although of course, in an entirely -different way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For five days he had not seen her, but hating to give -up entirely, and finding himself one evening in the -vicinity of the Hotel St. Albans, he ventured to run in -upon her for a moment. She was decked as if for an -evening party in a dress of gold and spangles, as -conspicuous for an excess of materials in the train as for an -utter absence of them about the arms and shoulders, -which, on this occasion, even the blaze of diamonds did -not redeem from a look of nakedness to the eyes of the -minister,—a mental reaction which any student of -psychology will recognize as ample evidence that John -Hampstead, man, had passed entirely beyond the power -of Marien Dounay, woman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Dounay received her caller with that low purr of -surprise and gladness which was characteristic, and -instantly proposed that they go out for a ride on the -foothill boulevard, and a dinner at the Three Points Inn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While the minister had not planned to give her an -evening, this was one of the rare occasions when he had -leisure time at his disposal, and since he had resolved -to make one last effort to help the woman, he decided to -accept the invitation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The evening, however, was not a success. The -dinner was good, the roads were smooth, the night air was -balmy and full of a thousand perfumes from field and -garden; but Miss Dounay's mood, at first merry, sagged -lower and lower into a kind of sullen despair, in which -she reproached the minister bitterly for his failure to -understand her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>François, the chauffeur, had, by command of his mistress, -stopped the car on the curve of the hill, at a point -where the bright moon made faces as clear as day, and, -having climbed down as if to look the car over, they -heard his boot heels grow fainter and fainter on the -graveled road as he tactfully ambled off out of earshot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead was still patient.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been so earnest in my desire to help you," he -said, by way of broaching the subject again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You cannot help me," Marien snapped. "Something -bars you. Your church, your position, all these -foolish women who are in love with you, this whole -community which has made a 'property' god of you,—they -are to blame! They stand between us. They prevent -you from seeing what you ought to see. They make you -blind. You think you are humble. It is a mock -humility. Under its guise you hide a lofty egotism. -You think you are a preacher; you are not. You are -still an actor, playing your part, and playing it so busily -that you have ceased to be genuine. All this sentiment -which you display for the suffering and needy and -distressed is a worked-up sentiment. It goes with the part -you play. It makes you blind, false, hypocritical!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Dounay!" exclaimed the minister sharply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But beside herself with chagrin and disappointment, -the woman ran on with growing scorn, as she asked -sneeringly: "Do you not see that all this gaping -adoration is unreal? That a touch would overthrow you? A -single false step, and the newspapers which have made -you for the sake of a front-page holiday would have -another holiday, and a bigger one, in tearing you down?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead gritted his teeth, but he could not have -stopped her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can you imagine what would be the biggest news -story that could break to-morrow morning in Oakland?" -she persisted. "It would be the fall of John -Hampstead. Can't you see it?" she laughed derisively. -"Headlines a foot tall? Can't you hear the newsboys -calling? Can't you see the 'Sisters' whispering? Can't -you see the gray heads bobbing? The pulpit of All -People's declared vacant! John Hampstead a by-word and -worse—a joke! Can't you see it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not unnaturally, the minister was angry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," he said sharply, "and you will never see it, -for I shall not take that single false step of which you -speak."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you really would not need to take it," sneered -the actress, with a sinister note in her voice, "a man in -your position need not fall. He may only seem to fall."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It seemed to John that the woman was actually menacing him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"François!" he called sharply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The chauffeur's heels came clicking back from around -the turn, and in a silence, which upon Miss Dounay's -part might be described as fuming, and upon the minister's -as aggressively dignified, the couple were driven -back to the hotel, arriving in time for Rollie Burbeck to -emerge from the telephone booth, to observe the car, -and to avoid its occupants.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With almost an elaboration of scrupulous courtesy, -the minister helped Miss Dounay from the automobile, -walked with her to the elevator, and ascended to the -doorway of her apartment, where, extending his hand, -he said sadly, in tones of finality, but without a trace of -any other feeling than regretful sympathy: "I still -desire to befriend you as I may. But I shall not be able -to come to you again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To his surprise, Marien answered him with something -like a threat!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is I," she rejoined quickly, "who will come to -you. I do not know how it is to happen yet, but I will -come, and when I do—if I am not much mistaken—you -will be happier to receive my call than you ever were to -receive one in all your life before!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again there was menace in her tone, and never had -she looked more imperiously regal than as she stood -holding the loop of her train in the left hand, the right -upon the knob of the door, the shimmering evening cloak -pushed back to reveal her gold and spangled figure, -standing arrow straight, while the dark eyes shot defiance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Neither had she ever been guilty of a more studied -or effective bit of theatricalism than when, immediately -following this insinuating speech, the actress noiselessly -propelled the door inward, revealing the presence of a -group of men in evening dress posed about the room in -various attitudes of boredom. As the door swung, these -men turned expectantly and with quick eyes photographed -the picture of the minister in the hall, his sober, -perplexed gaze set upon the figure of the beautiful woman, -whose features had instantly changed as she made her -entrance upon an entirely different drama.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, my neglected guests!" exclaimed the actress in -tones of mild self-reproach. "You will forgive my not -being here to receive you, when you know the reason. -Doctor Hampstead has been showing me some of the -more interesting and unusual phases of that eccentric -parish work of his, over which you Oaklanders rave so -much. And now, the dear good man was hesitating in -the hall at intruding upon our little party. I have -insisted that he shall be one of us. Am I not right, -gentlemen?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Several of Miss Dounay's guests were well known to -Hampstead personally, and the readiness with which they -dragged him within attested to the clergyman's wide -popularity among quite different sorts of very much -worth-while persons, for, as a matter of fact, Miss -Dounay's guests were rather representative. The group -included an editor, an associate justice of the Supreme -Court, a prominent merchant, a capitalist or two, and -other persons, either of achievement or position, to the -number of some eight or ten.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Their presence witnessed not only that Miss Dounay, -in her liking for a virile type of man, had made quick -and careful selection from those she had met during her -short stay in the city, but also testified to the readiness -with which this type responded to the Dounay personality.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That no other woman was present, and that the actress -should assume the entire responsibility of entertaining -so many gentlemen at one time, was entirely in -keeping with her particular kind of vanity and the situations -it was bound to create.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Standing in the center of the room, wearing that -expression of happy radiance which admiration invariably -brought to her face, her bare shoulders gleaming, her -jewels blazing, she rotated upon her heel till her train -wound up in a swirling eddy at her feet, out of which -she bloomed like some voluptuous flower, while a chorus -of "Oh's" and "Ah's" of laughing adulation followed -the revolution of her eyes about the circuit; for the guests -knew that to their hostess this little gathering was a play, -and their part was to enact a vigorously approving audience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gentlemen," she proposed, "you are all in evening -dress; but I,"—and she shrugged her bewitching -shoulders naïvely,—"I have been in this gown for -ages—until I hate it. Will you indulge me a little -longer?" And she inclined her head in the direction of the red -portières through which she had gone that first night -to don the diamonds for Hampstead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course the gentlemen excused her, and Miss Dounay -achieved another startling theatricalism by reappearing -in an astonishingly short time, offering the most -surprising contrast to her former self. The yellow and -spangles were gone. In their place was the simplest possible -gown of soft black velvet, with only a narrow band -passing over the shoulders and framing a bust like marble -for its whiteness against the black. The dress was -entirely without ornament, presenting a supreme achievement -of the art of the modiste, in that it appeared not so -much to be a gown as a bolt of velvet, suddenly caught -up and draped to screen her figure chastely but -beautifully, at the same time it revealed and even emphasized -those swelling curves and long lines which lost themselves -elusively in the baffling pliancy of her remarkable -figure. The hair was worn low upon the neck, and the -jewels which had blazed in her coiffure like a dazzling -crown were no longer in evidence. With them had gone -the pendants from her ears, and that coruscating circlet -of diamonds from the neck, which was her chief pride -and most valuable single possession. There was not even -a band of gold upon her arms, nor a ring upon her -tapering finger. Hence what the admiring circle seemed to -see was not something brilliant because bedizened, but a -creature exquisite because genuine, a beauty depending -for its power solely upon nature's comeliness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No woman with less beauty or less art, desiring to be -admired as Marien Dounay passionately did, could have -dared this contrast successfully. No one who knew men -less thoroughly than she would have understood that for -a purely professional artist to attain this look of a -simple womanly woman was the greatest possible triumph, -stirring every instinct of admiration and of chivalry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And whatever was at the back of the trick Miss Dounay -had played—and there was generally something back -of her caprices—in thrusting John Hampstead, with -whom she had practically quarreled, into this group of -guests, she appeared to forget him entirely in the -succession of whims, moods, and graces with which she -proceeded to their entertainment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For one thing, she admitted them to the large room -which served as her boudoir, into which they had seen -her go in gold and spangles to emerge like a miracle in -demure black velvet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course, there was an excuse for thus titillating the -curiosity of vigorous men with that lure of mysterious -enchantment which lurks in the boudoir of a lovely -woman, and the excuse was that the room, while -half-boudoir, was also half-studio, and held tables on which -were displayed the models of the stage sets and the -costumer's designs for Miss Dounay's coming London production.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the actress had divined, the inspection of these -fascinating details of stagecraft interested her guests as -much as the display of them delighted her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the hour which ensued before the supper, a collation -that in its variety and substance again proved how -well the actress comprehended the appetite of the male, -two or three guests arrived tardily. The earliest of these -to enter was Rollo Charles Burbeck, who came in ample -time to roam about the room of mystery at will with the -remainder of the guests. Indeed, he stayed in it so much -that its enchantment for him might have been presumed -to be greater than for the others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before the supper, too, one of the guests craved the -liberty of departing. This was the Reverend John -Hampstead. The farewell of his hostess was gracious -and without the slightest reminiscence of anything -unpleasant, but he was prevented from more than -mentally congratulating himself upon the change in her -manner toward him by the fact that in walking some ten feet -from where he touched the fingers of his hostess to where -a butler-sort of person, borrowed from the hotel staff, -stood waiting with his overcoat, Doctor Hampstead came -face to face with Rollie Burbeck, who was just emerging -from the boudoir-studio with a disturbed look upon his -usually placid face, as if, for instance, he had seen a -ghost.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In consequence, the minister moved down the corridor -to the elevator, not pondering upon his own perplexities, -but thinking to himself, "I wonder now if that young -man is in any serious trouble. It would break his -mother's heart—it would kill her if he were."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-day-of-all-days"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXIV.</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE DAY OF ALL DAYS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Next morning Doctor Hampstead was up bright and -early, clad in his long study gown and walking, according -to custom, beneath his palm trees, while he reflected on -the duties of the day before him. This was really the -day of all days for him, but he did not know it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An unpleasant thought of Marien Dounay came impertinently -into mind, but he repressed it. He had failed -with her. A pity! Yes; but his work was too big, too, -important, for him to permit it to be interfered with -longer by any individual.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Besides, there were with him this morning thoughts of -a totally different woman, whose life was as fresh and -beautiful as the dew-kissed flowers about him. Five -years of unswerving devotion on his part had all but -wiped from her memory the admission of her lover which -had so hurt the trusting heart of Bessie. That confiding -trust, the loss of which her pen had so eloquently -lamented, had grown again. The very day was set. In -four months John Hampstead would hold Bessie Mitchell -in his arms, and this time it seemed to him, more surely -than it had that day in the little summer house by the -tiny painted park in Los Angeles, that he would never, -never let her out of them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the midst of these reflections, a thud sounded on -the graveled walk at the minister's feet. It was the -morning paper tightly rolled and whirled from the -unerring hand of a boy upon a flying bicycle. The minister -waved his hand in response to a similar salute from the -grinning urchin, then turned and looked at the roll of -ink and paper speculatively. That paper was the world -coming to sit down at breakfast with him, and tell him -what it had been doing in the past twenty-four hours. It -had been doing some desperate things. The wide strip -of mourning at the end of the bent cylinder, indicating -tall headlines, showed this. The paper had come to him -to make confession of the world's sins. This was right, -for he was one of the world's confessors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But with this thought came another which had occurred -to him before. This was that he had won his -confessor's gaberdine too cheaply. He had gained his -position as a deputy saviour of mankind at too small a cost. -Sometimes he questioned if he were not yet to be made to -suffer—excruciatingly—supremely—if, for instance, -Bessie were not to be taken from him. Yet he knew, as -he reflected somewhat morbidly to this effect, that such a -suffering would hardly be efficient. It must be -something within himself, something volitional, a cup which -he might drink or refuse to drink. The world's saviour -was not Simon of Cyrene, whom they compelled to bear -the cross, but the man from the north, who took up his -own cross. True, Hampstead had thought on several -occasions that he was taking up a cross, but it proved -light each time, and turned into a crown either of public -or of private approbation. Yet the cross was there, if -he had only known it, in the tall black headlines on the -paper rolled up and bent tightly and lying like a bomb at -his feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, instead of picking up the paper, he strolled -out upon the sidewalk and down for a turn upon the -sea-wall. The lately risen sun shot a ray across the eastern -hills, and the dancing waters played elfishly with its -beams, as if they had been ten thousand tiny mirrors. A -fresh breeze was blowing, and as the minister filled his -lungs again and again with the wave-washed air, it -seemed as if a great access of strength were flowing into -his veins. It flowed in and in until he felt himself -stronger than he had ever been before in his life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With this feeling of strength, which was spiritual as -well as physical, came the desire to test it against -something big, bigger than he had ever faced before. All -unconscious how weak his puny strength would be against -its demands, he lifted his arms towards the sky like a -sun-worshiper and prayed that the day before him might be -a great day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then leaving the sea-wall, the minister walked with -swinging, quite un-gownly strides up the sidewalk and -turned in between the green patches of lawn before his -own door, picking up the paper and unrolling it as he -mounted the porch. On the step before the top one he -paused. The black headline was before his eye.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"DOUNAY DIAMONDS STOLEN" was its screaming message.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister was quickly gutting the column of its -meaning, when a step upon the graveled walk behind -startled him into turning suddenly toward the street, -where between the polished red trunks of the palms and -under their spreading leaves which met overhead, he saw -framed the figure of Rollie Burbeck, halting uncertainly, -with pale, excited face. This expression, indeed, was a -mere exaggeration of the very look Doctor Hampstead -had last seen upon it; but he did not immediately -connect the two.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your mother!" exclaimed the clergyman apprehensively, -for that precious life, always hanging by a thread -which any sudden shock might snap, was a constant -source of anxiety to those who loved the Angel of the -Chair. "Something has happened to her?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No! To me!" groaned the young man hoarsely, -hurrying forward as the minister stepped down to meet -him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Something awful! Can I see you absolutely alone?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, certainly, Rollie," replied the minister with -ready sympathy. "Come this way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hastily the minister led his caller around the side of -the wide, low-lying cottage to the outside entrance of his -study.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that door locked?" asked Rollie, as, once inside -the room, he darted a frightened glance at the doorway -connecting with the rest of the house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Although knowing himself to be safe from interruption, -the minister tactfully walked over and turned the -key. He then locked the outer door as well, lowered the -long shade at the wide side window, and snapped on the -electric light.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No eye and no ear can see or hear us now, save one," -he said with sympathetic gravity. "Sit down."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie sat on the very edge of the Morris chair, his -elbows on the ends of its arms, while his head hung -forward with an expression of ghastliness upon the weakly -handsome features.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You saw the paper?" he began.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here they are!" the young man gulped, the words -breaking out of him abruptly. At the same time there -was a quick motion of his hand, and a rainbow flash from -his coat pocket to the blotter upon the desk, where the -circlet of diamonds coiled like a blazing serpent that -appeared to sway and writhe as each stone trembled from -the force with which Burbeck had rid himself of the -hateful touch. The minister started back with shock and a -sudden sense of recollection.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Rollie," he groaned, and then asked, as if -not quite able to believe his eyes: "You took them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I—I stole them," the excited man half-whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why?" questioned Hampstead, still wrestling with -his astonishment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because I am short in my accounts," Rollie shuddered, -passing a despairing hand across his eyes. "I -have to have money to-day, or I am ruined."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you could not turn these into money. You must -have been beside yourself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No!" replied the excited man, with husky, explosive -utterance; "the scheme was all right. Spider Welsh -was going to handle 'em for me. We were to split four -ways. But the Red Lizard fell down."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Red Lizard?" interrupted the minister; for he -knew the man who bore the suggestive title.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. He was to hang a rope down from the cornice -on the roof of the hotel, opposite her window, so it would -look like an outside job, and he didn't do it. I got the -diamonds easy enough—easier than I expected—you -know how that was, with all those people coming and -going in that room. But I went to bed and couldn't sleep -for thinking about the rope. I got up before daylight -and went down to see if it was there. So help me -God, there's no rope swinging. That makes it an inside -job; it puts it up to the guests. By a process of -elimination, they'll come down to me. I am ruined any way you -look at it, and the shock will kill mother!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister studied the face of his caller critically. -Did he love his mother enough to greatly care on her -account, or was this merely an afterthought?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What am I going to do?" the shaken Rollie gasped -hoarsely, his eyes fixing themselves in helpless appeal -upon the clergyman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The thing to do is clear," announced the minister -bluntly. "Take these diamonds straight back to Miss -Dounay. Tell her you stole them. Throw yourself on -her mercy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A sickly smile curled upon the young man's lip.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Her mercy?" he repeated. "Do you think that -woman has any mercy in her? She has got the worst -disposition God ever gave a woman. She would tear me -to pieces."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young fellow again lifted a hand before his eyes, -shuddering and reeling as though he might faint.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a feeling almost of contempt, Hampstead gripped -him by the shoulder and shook him sternly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your situation calls for the exercise of some -manhood—if you have it," he said sharply. "Tell me. -Why did you come here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To get you to help me out!" the broken man murmured -helplessly, twisting his hat in his hands. "That -was all. I won't lie to you. You've never turned -anybody down. Don't turn me down!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was on your mother's account?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I'm not as unselfish as that. It's just myself. -I don't know what's the matter with me. I've lost my -nerve. I had it all right enough when I took 'em, -except for just a minute after; that's when I met you -going away, and with that damned uncanny way of yours -you dropped on that something was wrong. But I had -my nerve all right; I had it till I got out there on the -street this morning and that rope wasn't swinging there -over the cornice. Damn the Red Lizard! All I ask is -to get out of this, and then to get him by the throat!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Surely the man had recovered a portion of his nerve, -for at the thought of the failure of his partner in crime, -his face was suffused with rage, and his weak, writhing -hands became twisting talons that groped for the throat -of an imaginary Red Lizard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At sight of this demonstration, Hampstead leaned back -in his chair, with the air of one whose interest is merely -pathological, observing the phenomena of a soul in the -throes of incurable illness. His face was not even -sympathetic.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have come to the wrong place," he said briefly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You won't help me out?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not in your state of mind—which is a mere -cowardice in defeat—mere rage at the failure of an -accomplice. I should be accessory after the crime."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not even to save my mother?" whined the wilted man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should be doing your mother no kindness to -confirm her son in crime."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Young Burbeck sat silent and baffled, yet somehow -shocked into vigorous thought by the notion that he had -encountered something hard, a man with a substratum -of moral principle that was like immovable rock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment the culprit's eyes wandered helplessly -about the room and then returned to the rugged face of -the minister, with so much of gentleness and so much of -strength upon it. Looking at the man thus, Rollie had a -sudden, envious wish for his power. This man had a -strength of character that was enormous and Gibraltar-like.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can help me if you will!" he broke out wretchedly, -straining and twisting his neck like a man battling -with suffocation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said the minister quietly, his eyes searching to -the fellow's very soul, "I can—if you will let me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let you?" and a hysterical smile framed itself on -the young man's face. "My God, I will do anything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's something you must </span><em class="italics">be</em><span>, rather than do," explained -the physician to sick souls, once more deeply -sympathetic, and leaning forward, he continued significantly: -"I want to help you, not for your mother's sake, nor -your father's, but for your own whenever you are ready -to receive help upon proper terms. You have come here -seeking a way out. There is no way out, but there is a -</span><em class="italics">way up</em><span>!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The cowering man shook his head hopelessly. He -had not courage enough even to survey a moral height.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment the minister studied his visitor thoughtfully, -wondering what could make him see his guilt as he -ought to see it; then abruptly he drew close and began to -talk in a low, confidential tone. Almost before the -surprised Rollie could understand what was taking place, -the Reverend John Hampstead, to whom he had come -to confess, was confessing to him; this man, whom he -had thought so strong, was telling the story of a young -girl's love for him; of his weak infatuation for another -woman, of the heart-aches that half-unconscious breach -of trust had occasioned him, and worst of all, the pangs -it had cost the innocent girl who loved him and believed -in his integrity with all her impressionable heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a moisture in the minister's eye as he -concluded his story, and there was a fresh mist in Rollie's -as he listened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the clergyman passed on immediately from this to -tell modestly how, when the death of Langham had -imposed the lives of Dick and Tayna on him like a trust, he -had been true to it, although at the cost of his great -ambition; but that afterward this surrender had brought -him all the happiness of his present life as pastor of -All People's, while the hope of winning that first love -back had been given to him again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And so," Hampstead concluded, "to be disloyal to -a trust has come to seem to me the worst of all crimes; -while to be true to one's obligations appears to me as -the highest virtue. In fact, the whole active part of my -creed could be summed up pretty well in this little idea -of trust.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Trust is almost the highest thing in life. It is the -cement of civilization. Trust is the very foundation of -banking. You believe in banking, don't you? In the -principle? The idea that hundreds of people trust some -banker with their surplus funds, and he puts those funds -at the service of the community as a whole through -loaning them to persons who redeposit them, to be reloaned -and redeposited again, so that the bank, a bundle of -individual trusts of rich and poor, becomes one of the -fulcrums upon which civilization turns?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Burbeck listened rather dazed. "I never thought of -the principle," he faltered after a minute, "I thought of -it as a job."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you see the point, don't you? It's rather a -high calling to be a banker. Now in this case the dead -man whose fund you have looted trusted the bank; the -bank has trusted you, and you have stolen from the -bank. Miss Dounay has trusted you, and you have -stolen her diamonds. You see at what I am getting?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead paused and glanced penetratingly into the -face of Rollie, who had been a little swept out of -himself, as much in wonder at the new insight into the life -of the minister as at the convincing clarity of the lesson -conveyed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he replied thoughtfully and with an air of -conviction, "that I am not to think of myself as merely -a thief, but as something worse,—as a traitor to many -sacred trusts."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Exactly," exclaimed the minister with satisfaction -at the sign of moral perception growing. "To shield a -thief from exposure is possibly criminal. To help a man -repair the breaches of his trust, to put him in the way of -never breaking another trust as long as he lives, that is -the true work of the ministry. If it is for that you want -help, Rollie, you have come to the right place."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I did not come for that," admitted the young fellow, -strangely able to view himself objectively as a sadly -dispiriting spectacle. "I came, as you said, in -cowardice, because I didn't know which way to turn, -desiring only to find a way out. Somehow, I felt myself a -victim. You make me see myself a crook. I came -here feeling sorry for myself. You make me hate -myself. You make me want to be worthy of trust. You -give me hope. I have a feeling I never had before, that -I am not much of a man, that I am not equal to a man's -job. But tell me what I must do to repair the breaches -in my trust, and let me see if I think I can do them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Burbeck's manner had become calmer, and something -of the grayness of despair had left his face, but now at -the recurrence of all his perplexities, he presented again -the picture of a man cowering beneath a mountain that -threatened to fall upon him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"First of all, you must go back to Miss Dounay with -her diamonds," prescribed the minister seriously. "If -you have not manhood enough to face her with your -confession, I do not see the slightest hope for your -character's rehabilitation."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But the executors!" exclaimed Rollie, with the sense -of danger still greater than his sense of guilt. "They -will be checking me up at eleven. I've got to cover the -shortage, or I'm lost. J.M. would be more terrible than -Miss Dounay. It would not be vengeance with him. -He'd send me to San Quentin, entirely without feeling, -just as a matter of cold duty. He'd shake hands and -tell me to look in when I got out. That's J.M."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I think it is," said the minister, pausing for a -moment of thought. His body was balanced and rocking -gently in the swivel chair, his hands were held before -him, the tips of the thumb and fingers of the right hand -just touching the tips of the thumb and fingers of the -left hand and making a rudely elliptical basket into which -he was looking as if for inspiration.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie, waiting,—hoping, without knowing what to -hope,—had begun to study Hampstead's face with a -respectful interest he had never felt before. He noticed -the dark shadows beneath the gray eyes, and that lines -were beginning to seam the brow, while just now the -broad shoulders had a bent look. For the first time it -occurred to him that Hampstead's work might be hard -work, and he began to feel a kind of reverence for a -man who would work so hard for other people, and to -reflect that it was noble thus to expend one's energies,—noble -to be true to trusts of any sort. It was admirable. -It was worthy of emulation. A sudden envy of Hampstead's -character seized him, and he began, in the midst -of his own distress, to think how one proceeded to get -such a character. By the simple process of being true to -trusts, the minister had suggested. But this seemed rather -hopeless for Rollie. His chance had gone—unless! -His mind halted and fastened its hope desperately to this -grave, silent, meditative face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister was considering very delicate questions: -trying to decide how much weight the slender -moral backbone of this softling could carry, asking -whether by leaning upon the side of mercy, by taking -some very serious responsibility upon himself, he might -not shelter him from the consequences of his crime while -a new character was grown.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But such questions are not definitely answerable in -advance, and it was neither Hampstead's usual -magnanimity nor his leaning toward mercy, but his moral -enthusiasm for the rehabilitation of lost character that -impelled him to take a chance in his decision.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When do you say they will be upon your books?" -he asked abruptly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Before twelve, sure; by eleven, probably," was -Rollie's quick, nervous answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And how much is your defalcation?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Forty-two hundred," sighed Rollie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The expedient is almost doubtful," announced the -minister solemnly, and with evident reluctance; "and I -do not say that the time will not come—when you are -stronger, perhaps—when you must tell Mr. Manton that -you were once a defaulter; but that bridge we will not -cross this morning, and in the meantime, I will let you -have the money to cover your shortage."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Brother Hampstead!" gulped Rollie, reaching out -both hands, while his soul leaped in gratitude. It was -also the first time he had ever called Hampstead -"Brother" except in derision.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister waved away this demonstration with a -gesture of self-deprecation, and a smile that was almost -as sweet as a woman's lighted up his face, while he took -from a drawer of his desk a small, flat key, familiar to -Rollie because he had seen it before, and many others -resembling it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here," said Hampstead, "is the key to my safe -deposit box in the Amalgamated National vault. In that -box is eleven hundred dollars. It is not my money, but -was provided by a friend for use in a contingency which -has not arisen. I feel at perfect liberty to use it for this -emergency. As you will remember, there is already on -file with the vault-room custodian my signed authorization -for you to visit the box, because you have served as -my messenger before. You will be able, therefore, to -gain unquestioned access to it the minute the vaults are -open, which as you know is nine o'clock. Take the -envelope marked 'Wadham currency.' In the meantime I -will go to a friend or two, and within thirty minutes after -the bank's doors open, I will bring you another envelope -containing thirty-one hundred dollars."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie listened as a condemned man upon a scaffold -listens to the reading of his reprieve.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How can I thank you?" he croaked finally, clutching -at the minister's hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't thank me," adjured Hampstead, towering -and strong, while he gripped the pulseless palm of -Burbeck. "Don't thank me! Do your part; that's all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie clung to the strong hand uncertainly for a few -seconds until he himself felt stronger, when his face -seemed to lighten somewhat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have a wonderful way with you, Doctor Hampstead," -he exclaimed. "You have put conscience into me -this morning—and courage."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Both are important," smiled the minister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this moment, Rollie, who was beginning to recover -his presence of mind, did one of those innocent things -which thereafter played so important a part in the -tragical chain of complications which followed from this -interview. The act itself was no more than to select from -a small tray of rubber bands upon the study desk, the only -red one which happened to be there, and to snap it with -several twists about the neck of the vault-box key, -remarking as he did so:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For ready identification. There are sometimes -several of these keys in my possession at once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister nodded approvingly. "I suppose," he -commented, "other people make use of you as a -messenger to their boxes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Half a dozen of the women have that habit," the -young man observed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Trusted!" exclaimed the minister impulsively, laying -a cordial hand upon the young man's shoulder. -"You have been greatly trusted. It is a rare privilege, -isn't it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie nodded thoughtfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And these?" questioned Doctor Hampstead, motioning -to where the diamond necklace curled, appearing to -Rollie less like a serpent now and more like a strangler's -knot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm afraid of them," said the young man with a -shudder. "Couldn't—couldn't you take them back to -her and tell the story?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The clergyman shook his head solemnly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I cannot confess your sins for you," he averred. "If -you are not man enough for that, we might as well stop -before we begin."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead's tone was final.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are right," admitted Burbeck, in tones of -conviction; "you are right."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But still he could not bring himself to touch the -diamonds, and stood gazing as if charmed by the evil spell -they wrought. Sensing this, the minister took up from -his desk a long envelope which bore his name and address -in the corner, opened it, lifted the sparkling string -by one end, dropped it inside, moistened the flap, sealed -it, and handed it to Burbeck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There," he exclaimed, "you don't even have to touch -them again. Go straight to her hotel."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, but I cannot," exclaimed Rollie, apprehension -trembling in his tones. "I shall not dare to leave the -bank until the shortage is covered. The executors might -come in ahead of time, and I must be there to stall them -off, if necessary. But I might telephone to Miss Dounay."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Telephones are leaky instruments," objected Hampstead, -with a shake of his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Or send her a note," suggested Burbeck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Notes miscarry," controverted the minister sagaciously, -"and they do not always die when their mission -is accomplished. Since you are taking my advice, I -would say summon all your self-control, contain your -secret in patience during the hours you must wait until -your shortage is made good, and you can leave the bank -to see Miss Dounay in person. You must do your part -entirely alone, for my lips are sealed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sealed?" questioned Rollie, not quite comprehending.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, the secret is your own. Think of your -confession as made to God!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean that you would never tell on me, no matter -what happened?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just that. The liberty is not mine. I can only expect -you to be true to your trust as I am true as a minister -to mine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was an idea Rollie could not grasp readily. It -was taking away a prop upon which he had meant to -lean.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," he argued, "you make it possible for me to -take your money and that of your friends and keep it, -if you don't have some kind of a club over me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Exactly," replied the minister. "I want no club -over you, Rollie. You must be a free agent, or else I -have not really trusted you. Your right action would -mean nothing if compulsory. You must be true to your -trust from some inner spiritual motive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Rollie was still groping. "And if I should, for -instance, steal the money you give me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You would know it, and I, and one other," replied -the minister, raising his eyes devoutly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie swept his hand across his face slowly, with a -gesture of bewilderment. This minister was taking him -to higher and higher ground. He began to feel as if -he had been led up to some transfiguring mountain peak -of moral eminence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the highest appeal which could be made to the -honor of another," he breathed in tones approaching awe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Exactly," declared Hampstead again with that air -of finality, "and if I should fail to be true to my part -of the trust, what has passed between us this morning -has been the mere compounding of a felony and not the -act of a priest of God looking to the regeneration of a -soul."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a wordless interval, Rollie Burbeck pressed the -minister's hand once more and departed, his face still -wearing a veiled expression as if he had not quite caught -the import of all that had been said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But neither, for that matter, had the minister; -although he was never surer of himself than now, when he -ushered his guest out of the side door with a cheery, -courage-giving smile, and hastened in to his greatly -delayed breakfast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a thoughtful air and a feeling of intense satisfaction -in his breast, he unfolded his napkin, broke his -egg, and sipped his coffee, still with no suspicion that this -was the day of all days for him, or that he had just sawed -and hammered the cross which might make his title clear -to saviourhood.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="his-bright-idea"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">HIS BRIGHT IDEA</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Young Burbeck's desk at the Amalgamated National -was in an open space behind a marble counter. About -him in the same open space were desks of two other -assistant cashiers. Back of these were the private offices -of the cashier, the president and the vice-president, as -well as one or two reception rooms. Beyond the marble -counter was a broad public aisle, on the farther side of -which the tellers and bookkeepers worked, screened by -the usual wire and glass. The safe deposit vaults were -in the basement and reached by a stairway from the open -lobby on the first floor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hurrying from the minister's house, Burbeck reached -his desk at ten minutes before the hour of nine. This -left him ten minutes of waiting before he could get the -eleven hundred dollars of the Wadham currency; and -waiting was the very hardest thing he could do under the -circumstances. He was the first of the assistant cashiers -to arrive, but the cashier, Parma, heavy-jowled, with -dark wall eyes, was visible through the open door of his -office, checking over some of the auditor's sheets with a -gold pencil in his pudgy hand. His thick shoulders and -broad, unresponsive back somehow threw a chill of -apprehension into Rollie. What brought that old owl -down here at this time of the morning, he wondered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The colored porter, resplendent in his uniform of gray -and brass, advanced with obsequious courtesy and -proffered a copy of the morning paper. Rollie snatched at -it with a sense of relief, but the relief was only -momentary. There was the hateful headline again. It -had been hours, days, weeks since he saw that headline -first, while standing on the street and looking up for the -rope that was to be swinging over the cornice of the -Hotel St. Albans. Couldn't they get something else for -a headline? Why, of course not. The paper had been -on the street but three hours. That headline must hold -sway till the noon edition. Besides, it was a good headline.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie grasped the paper firmly with both hands, threw -his head back, and pretended to read; but he was not -reading. He was looking to see if his hands trembled. -Unmistakably they did. They trembled so the paper -rattled as if it were having a chill. But pshaw! There -was really little to read anyway, beyond the headline. -The news had come in too late to make a story for the -morning papers. It only said that Miss Dounay had -been entertaining some friends and on retiring at -half-past two had chanced to notice that her diamond -necklace was missing. A search failed to reveal it in the -apartment. She at once notified the police. That was -all. No word as to who was present, who was -suspected, whether a guest, or a servant, or a burglar, or -whether any clue had been discovered. There had been -no time for that. That would be the story for the -afternoon papers. They would find out all about Miss -Dounay's movements the night before, and all about her -party, and who was present. They would interview each -guest, and get a statement from him. They would be -sure to interview John Hampstead. Rollie had a sudden -feeling of security as he thought of their investigating -Hampstead. It was amazing what a rocklike confidence -a man could feel in Hampstead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But they would also interview him—Rollie Burbeck. -Because he was so readily accessible, they would -interview him first. What would he tell them? How would -he bear himself? Would his voice tremble when he tried -to talk, as now his hands trembled when he tried to hold -the newspaper?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this very moment the diamonds were in his inside -coat pocket. Could he receive the reporters with his -usual urbanity, sit smiling nonchalantly, and recite the -incidents of the evening, suggest theories and clues, -express his righteous indignation at the crime,—all with -that envelope and its contents rustling under every -movement of his arm? Could he?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To the young man's tortured imagination, the necklace -became again a serpent. He could feel it crawling -there over his heart, could hear it hissing and rattling -as if about to strike. Then it ceased to be a serpent, and -was a nest of birds. He knew that every time a -reporter asked a question, one of those birds would stretch -its wings and call "Cuckoo."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There! It said "Cuckoo" just then. Was the bank -haunted? Rollie looked up frightened. Cold sweat was -on his brow. Not his hands alone but his whole body -trembled. He was really in a very bad way. Could -a man have delirium tremens, just from fright? Rollie -didn't know, but if a reporter came in just then, he was -sure that he would take out the diamonds and hurl them -at the news gatherer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Speaking of delirium tremens, he wished he had a good -stiff highball. He must slip out presently long enough -to get one. Worse than reporters would be coming -round, too. Detectives would come. Chief of detectives -Benson might come in person. Rollie disliked Benson -and mistrusted him. Benson went on the theory that -it takes a crook to catch a crook! When it came to -inducing a crook to talk, he was a very handy man with a -club. Benson would at once scour the pool rooms and -hop joints. Suppose he got the Red Lizard in the -dragnet. Suppose he hit the Red Lizard a clip or two with -that small, ugly billy that was generally in Benson's -pocket when he went to the sweat room; or suppose he -kept Red's 'hop' away from him for a few hours? -Or suppose Benson happened to know in that uncanny -way of his that he, Rollie, had done business with Spider -Welsh? He might just walk into the bank and search -Rollie on suspicion. And Rollie would have to submit, -would have to seem to invite him, almost. His teeth -were chattering at the thought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Discovery—disgrace—conviction—ruin—that was -the sequence of the ideas. Stripes! Ugh! Just when -the way out, "the way up," was opening to him, too. -Discovery, now that a moral hope was gleaming, would -be infinitely more terrible than an hour ago, when he was -only a rat burrowing from a terrier.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He tried to shake himself together. He must brace -up and play the game with a cool head, or he could not -play it at all. One thing was clear. The diamonds must -be got out of his possession temporarily. But where -should he put them? In his desk? Anywhere about the -bank? Benson would find them if he started a search, -and if Benson didn't search, some one in the bank might -stumble upon them accidentally, and then the cat would -be out of the bag for fair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a police whistle now! The agitated young -man looked about, startled, and then laughed at himself. -It was not a police whistle at all. It was the first clear, -bell-like note of the bank clock, beginning the stroke of -nine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a sensation of relief that for a few minutes -waiting was over and there was occupation for mind and -body, Rollie took the minister's key and strolled in the -most casual manner he could command down to the vault -room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Doctor Hampstead's box," he announced, exhibiting -his key. The vault clerk turned to his card index as a -mere matter of form, for he remembered well enough -Rollie's authorization, and read upon the card of the -Reverend John Hampstead his signed permission for -Rollo Charles Burbeck to do with his box "as I might or -could do if personally present." The clerk stepped inside -the vault, scanned the numbers and tiers, and thrust his -master-key into the proper lock. Rollie slipped the -minister's key into its own place, turned it, and the door -flew open. The vault clerk returned to his stand outside -the door. Rollie took the box and walked into one of -the private rooms provided for the safe deposit patrons. -In a moment he was ripping open the envelope marked -"Wadham Currency", which he found exactly as the -minister had described it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At sight and feeling of the money in his fingers, a -great wave of hope surged over Rollie. It was a solid -assurance of escape. With this assurance, there came -to the young man a sharp, definite impulse to begin at -once the work of character building. As an initial step, -he wrote upon one of his personal cards: "I.O.U. $1,100," -and signed it, not with his initials, but boldly -in vigorous chirography, to express the stoutness of his -purpose, with the whole of his name, "Rollo Charles -Burbeck." When putting this card carefully back in the -envelope from which he had extracted the currency, and -placing the envelope on the top of the papers in the box, -the young man experienced a fine glow of satisfaction. -He had done a good and honorable act in this bold -assumption of his debt and in thus leaving the written -record there behind him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But when Rollie took up the currency from the table -and slipped the long, thin package into his inside pocket, -his fingers came in contact with that other envelope, the -presence of which, under the strain of what he must go -through this morning, threatened to break down his nerve -completely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With the preacher's box lying there open before him, -came a sudden inspiration. What safer place for the -Dounay jewels than in it? Doctor Hampstead's -character put him absolutely above suspicion. He was the -one guest at the supper before whose door no process -of elimination would ever halt to point the finger of -suspicion. His box, at the moment, was the safest place in -the world for the Dounay diamonds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie was all alone in the closed room. No glance -could possibly rest on him; yet, as furtively as if a -thousand eyes were peering, he slipped the envelope containing -the diamonds from his pocket into the box and heaved -a sigh of relief when he saw the lid cover the package -from his sight. Returning to the vault room, he locked -the box in its chamber and went upstairs to his desk in -quite his usual debonair manner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a new feeling of confidence which made him bold -and precise in all his movements, Rollie laid the safe -deposit key, with its innocent little red rubber band about -it, exactly in the center of the blotter upon his desk, where -it might be every moment under his eye. Then, in the -most casual way in the world, he pinned a penciled note -to the stack of bills representing the "Wadham -currency" and sent it by one of the bank messengers across -the wide aisle to a receiving teller's cage. When it -arrived, the gap in his financial fences had narrowed to -thirty-one hundred dollars. This lessening of the breach -increased his self-control and strengthened his resolution. -He had only to wait now until the minister appeared with -the additional currency, and then at the first opportunity -he would slip down to the vault, get the diamonds, and -go straight to Miss Dounay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And in the meantime his premonition that reporters -would lean heavily upon him for information about the -actress's supper party proved correct. When he talked -to these reporters, Rollie noticed that it gave him a fresh -sense of security to let his eye turn occasionally to where -the little flat key with the red band about it lay upon his -desk, lay, and almost laughed. It was really such a -good joke to think where the diamonds were.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What made this joke better was that each reporter -shrewdly inquired whether Rollie thought the diamonds -had actually been stolen, or whether this might not be -the familiar device of dramatic press agents. Begging -in each instance that he be not quoted, Rollie admitted -that of course the whole affair might be no more than the -latter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet after the reporters had gone, Rollie wished he had -not done this. It was clever, but it was not just to the -woman to whom he was going to make his first exhibition -of new character by returning her jewels and making a -plea for mercy. That was not going to be an easy -job—that confession? Besides, everything depended on -whether she would grant his plea or not. Ruin stared -again at this angle; for Miss Dounay might hand him -over to Benson. Once more he had that distasteful -vision of a chalky head and a suit of stripes. The -thought produced a physical sensation as if his whole -body were being stung by nettles.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But here came a big man down the aisle, his features -expressing grave consideration, and his gray eyes -twinkling with evident satisfaction. It was Doctor -Hampstead. Courage and increase of confidence seemed -to come into the office with the minister, and more was -imparted by his cordial hand-clasp, as he leaned close and -asked in a low voice:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You got the Wadham currency?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," Rollie answered eagerly and in an excited -whisper told how he had laid the foundation stone of his -new character by his I.O.U. left in the place of the -currency.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is good," agreed the minister, his face beaming. -"The right start, my boy, exactly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, with a replica of that smile, sweet as a woman's, -with which he had two hours before passed over his -vault key to Rollie, he now placed in his hands an -envelope like that which had contained the Wadham -currency, only thicker. The young man seized it gratefully, -but with fingers trembling so he could hardly get -behind the flap of the envelope.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is there," said the minister, a little gurgle of -emotion in his own throat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is here," mumbled Rollie woodenly, a surge of -relief and gratitude rising so high in his breast that it -felt like a tense hard pain, and for a moment stifled the -power of speech so that for want of words he reached -out and touched the hand of the minister caressingly -with his clammy fingers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead, happier, if possible, than Rollie, -understood his emotion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's all right," he whispered. "Courage, boy, -courage!" At the same time he laid a hand upon the young -man's arm, with a pressure almost of affection. With the -word and touch came clarity both of thought and feeling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will you excuse me three or four minutes, Brother -Hampstead?" Rollie inquired, the sudden leap of joy in -his heart that the embezzlement was now to be legitimately -wiped out so great that he could not this time stop to -send the money across by a messenger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister smiled understandingly, and Rollie -stepped out of the little gate and across to the teller's -window.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he returned, old J.M. himself had come out of -his office and was chatting with the minister. There was -nothing unusual about this, since wherever Hampstead -went persons of every sort were anxious to get a word -with him. Presently Parma too joined the group at -Rollie's desk. Of course the topic of conversation was -Miss Dounay and her diamonds, for both the president -and the cashier had learned that the minister and their -own social ambassador were present at the supper, which -every hour became more famous. In the midst of this -conversation, a telephone call for Mr. Manton was -switched to Rollie's desk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said the president, talking into the 'phone. -"We will send a man over to represent us. Are you -ready now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The bank president hung up the telephone and turned -to Rollie. "Step right over to the Central Trust, -Burbeck, and see us through on those transfers, will you? -They are waiting now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was nothing for Rollie to do but to go -immediately, much as he desired to whisper one more word -of gratitude to the minister, and to receive the -additional installment of moral strength which he felt sure -would follow from a few quiet minutes with this man -on whom his soul had begun to lean so heavily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly, Mr. Manton," he answered, and then as -he reached for his hat, he turned to the minister, saying: -"Shall I find you here when I return?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That depends on how long before you return," -laughed the minister, but the blandness of his expression -indicated that he was in no hurry, and Rollie went out -expecting to see him again in a few minutes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the matter of the transfers was not so easily -dispatched. Over one detail and another the young man -was held for nearly forty minutes. The delays, too, were -of that vexatious sort which detained him without -employing him; so that most of the irritating interval could -be and was devoted to a consideration of his own very -private and very pressing affairs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Giving up hope of finding the minister in the bank upon -his return, he addressed both his thoughts and his fears -to the subject of Miss Dounay and her diamonds. The -prospective interview with this passionate, self-willed, -and no doubt wildly excited woman loomed before him -oppressively, and the nearer it drew, the more ominous it -seemed. A man going unarmed to return a stolen cub -to a tigress in a jungle lair would be going upon a mission -of peace and safety compared to his. He feared that in -her passionate vehemence she would never permit him to -get the full truth before her. How was he to turn aside -the impact of her sudden burst of rage? She would -assault him—tear him! If that curious Morocco dagger -he had seen some of the guests fumbling with last night -were at hand, she might even kill him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The idea occurred to him that he had best lie to her, -or at least begin by lying to her; that he might play the -rôle of restorer of her diamonds, and put her under a -debt of gratitude, explaining that the thief had brought -them to him to borrow money on them; then, in the softer -mood that would come through joy over their prospective -recovery, he might elaborate the story, touch her -sympathies, and make his full confession. She might even -be happy enough over their recovery to cease the hunt for -the criminal, and thus make confession unnecessary. -That in itself would be a great relief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet the common sense, if not the moral sense, of the -young man rejected a proposal to lay the bricks of -new-found honesty in the mortar of a lie. If he were true -to the trust which Hampstead had reposed in him, he -would walk straight into Miss Dounay's apartments and -say, "Here are your diamonds. I am the thief. I throw -myself upon your mercy!" This was what he resolved -to do.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Reentering the bank, young Burbeck walked first to -the open door of Mr. Manton's office. That gentleman -was engaged with a caller, but the shadow at the door -caused his eye to rove in that direction. Rollie waved -his hand; J.M. nodded. The transfers had been accomplished; -the president had taken note of that fact, and -the assistant cashier's mission was discharged.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie went immediately to his desk. There was a -litter of papers representing matters of greater or less -importance which had required attention during the -interval of his absence from the office. He sifted them -quickly. Some received his penciled O.K. and went -into a basket for the messenger; two or three took him -on errands to other desks about, or to the windows -opposite; the rest went into a drawer. He had not -removed his hat from his head, for he proposed to go -immediately to Miss Dounay before the remnants of his -fast oozing resolution could entirely trickle away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But when he turned to pick up the vault key which his -eye had seen so many times this morning, it was not at -hand. He removed everything from the desk, he -searched every nook and cranny of it. He took up the -waste-basket, dumped the contents upon his desk, and -examined every scrap and fold of envelope or paper. -He even got down upon his knees and made sure the key -was not upon the carpet, going so far as to move the -desk. The key had disappeared. He searched his own -pockets, realizing that when he left the bank that was -where the key should have been placed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the excitement of the moment when Hampstead -had brought in the money that saved him from being a -defaulter, and in the disconcerting presence of -J.M. and Parma, when he wanted to be alone with his -benefactor, and especially with the more disconcerting -instruction to go out and look after the transfers, he had, -for the time being, forgotten the key. Now it was not -to be found.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie stood nonplussed first, and then aghast. His -guilty conscience instantly suggested that some one had -seen or suspected his visit to the vault and what had -occurred there. This idea brought a rush of blood to the -head. He was dizzy and had almost an attack of vertigo. -Yet with a few clearing minutes of thought, the -explanation leaped plainly into mind. Doctor Hampstead had -taken the key. In the interval while Rollie was at the -teller's window, he must have seen it lying there upon -the desk, recognized it by the red rubber band, and -having been assured that the key had served its purpose, had -done the perfectly natural thing of dropping it in his -pocket, and thinking no more of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Where was the minister now? Until Rollie could find -him and get the key, he could make no confession to -Miss Dounay.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="unexpectedly-easy"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXVI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">UNEXPECTEDLY EASY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Following his instincts rather than any rule of sense, -Rollie hurried out upon the street, posted himself upon -a conspicuous corner, and for several minutes indulged -the wildly improbable hope that he might spy the minister -passing in the throng. When a little reflection had -convinced him that this was time wasted, he made a hasty -inventory of near-by places where his benefactor might -have gone, and even went so far as to hurriedly visit two -of them, threading the tables of the Forum Café, where -sometimes Hampstead ate his luncheon, and scanning the -chairs in the St. Albans barber shop, where from time to -time the dominie's tawny fleece was shorn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But by this time a new probability forced itself into the -distracted young man's consciousness. This was that -the minister had gone to pay his sympathetic respects to -Miss Dounay and condole with her over her loss. Rollie -was so near the Dounay apartment that to go upstairs -and inquire if the minister were there would have been -easy, but the peculiar circumstances made it difficult. -Indeed only to recall how near he was to that fearsome -lair of the tigress threw him into cold shivers and made -him fly to the safer vantage ground of the telephone upon -his own desk at the bank. But even merely to inquire -for the Reverend John Hampstead from there was hard. -In his nervous state, depleted by gloomy forebodings and -now unfortified by the possession of the diamonds, Rollie -felt utterly unequal to even a long-distance contact with -that high-powered personality. All the morning he had -been in terror lest she herself should call him up. All -the morning he had known that in his character as an -interested friend he should have telephoned to her. -Now, the moment she recognized his voice, he would be -taxed with this breach! What was he to say? Why, -that he had not telephoned because he was intending to -call in at the first moment he could get away from the -bank, and that he would be up very soon now. She -would be sarcastic, but the explanation would positively -have to do. Besides, he had to locate the minister! and -so, struggling to command a tone of indifference, he -gave the St. Albans number.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course Julie or the secretary would answer, anyway. -But evidently Miss Dounay, in her highly aroused -mental state, was keeping an ear upon the telephone bell, -for it was her own animated note that rasped at him -through the instrument. It appeared, mercifully, that -she did not recognize his voice,—a fact which at first -relieved him, but on later reflection, at the conclusion of -the incident, shook his remaining self-confidence still -further to pieces, for it showed how completely out of hand -he had allowed himself to get.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When, moreover, Rollie launched his timid inquiry if -the Reverend John Hampstead was there, he got a negative -so sharp that the receiver seemed to bite his ear. He -broke the connection hastily and sat eyeing the telephone -apprehensively, expecting the mouthpiece to open like -a solemn eye, scan him inquiringly, and report to Miss -Dounay. When it did not, he shrugged his shoulders -and elongated his neck to get rid of that noose-like -feeling which had just come upon him from nowhere. He -had not killed anybody. What was the noose for, then? -But this reflection got a most disagreeable answer: "It -would kill your mother to know you are an embezzler -and a thief. You would then be her murderer." Again -he shrugged himself free of the distasteful sensation. -"Buck up, Burbeck," he commanded himself, "or you -are done for." Once more he grabbed the telephone, -and this time more determinedly, for in the midst of his -misery one really first-class inspiration had come to him: -this was to communicate with the county jail. The -minister was really much more likely to have friends in -the county jail than in the St. Albans; and it was a safe -wager that he went there more frequently. Rollie knew -the jailer well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello—Sam," he called. "This is Rollie. Has -Doctor Hampstead been there this morning?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yeh!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nope."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Know where he went?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Evidently Sam turned to some one else in the room for -information. Rollie heard a voice answering him and -caught the words "San Francisco" and "Red Lizard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you get that?" called Sam into the 'phone. -"He's gone to San Francisco."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes,—but what's that got to do with the Red Lizard?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He came down to see the Red Lizard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Red Lizard!" Rollie could not restrain a gasp, -and then wondered if gasps are transmitted over the -telephone—but went on to ask: "Is the Red Lizard in?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yeh!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What for?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie was clinging to the telephone now like a -drowning man to a rope's end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He got in some kind of a row with a service elevator -man at the St. Albans last night and landed on him with -the brass knucks. This morning the judge gave him -three months in the county."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie clenched his teeth, and his shoulders rocked for -a moment. So that was what happened to the Red -Lizard! What a long time ago last night was! How -many things had happened! Last night he was a crook -and a defaulter. To-day he was an honest man, and his -accounts would bear the scrutiny of an X-ray. Now if -only those diamonds—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Sam had gone right on talking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We think Doctor Hampstead went to San Francisco -on some sort of errand for the Lizard—Red's got a -woman sick over there or something. But, say, the parson -telephoned his house before he left here, and they can -tell you sure."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right, thanks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So long, Rollie!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gone to San Francisco! Worse and worse. Rollie -huddled in his chair. But there was still a grain of hope. -Sam might be mistaken, or the trip might be a short one, -or the minister might have left a telephone number that -would reach him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the voice of Rose Langham dashed these hopes -one by one. Her brother had gone to San Francisco on -an uncertain quest; he would not be back until very late -at night, and he had no idea himself where in the city his -search would lead him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For the second time that day Rollie found himself in -a state bordering on physical collapse. The very stars -were fighting against him. After the strain of a year -in which the fear of detection, however masked, had -always been present, his nerves were in none too good -condition, anyway. The events of the last twenty-four -hours had racked them to the limit of self-control. And -yet, when safely past the danger of discovery of his -defalcation, the growing sense of the enormity of the -crime of theft had brought him to a point where in sheer -self-defense he felt he must seize the jewels and literally -fling them at their owner. Now, goaded, tricked, -tantalized, defeated—everything was in a conspiracy -against him! It was enough to drive a man insane. -Burbeck felt himself very near the maniacal point. -Again he was seeing things. One moment the street -outside was full of patrol wagons, all ringing their gongs at -once, while platoons of police were marching and -surrounding the bank. Another moment he had decided to -anticipate the police by rushing out to the corner by the -plaza, tossing his hat high in the air, and shouting and -shrieking until a crowd had gathered, when he would -exhibit the diamonds and proclaim himself the thief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he was spared the possibility of this insane freak -by the fact that he could not exhibit the diamonds. They -were in the vault. Damn the vault! To hell with them! -To hell with everything! To hell with himself! That -was where he was going!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly he looked up, trembling. Mercer, the -assistant cashier whose desk was next to his own, must -have overheard him. But no, Mercer was calmly -writing. He had heard nothing, because nothing had been -spoken. Rollie had been thinking in shouts, not -speaking. And yet he looked about him wonderingly, like a -man coming out of a temporary aberration.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will be shouting it next," he said to himself. "I -am getting dotty; I'll burst if I have to hold this much -longer. I'll burst and give the whole thing away."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His hat had been pushed back from his brow; he drew -it forward and down until it shaded his face, and then -with his jaws set in the most determined mood he could -muster, he walked out of the bank and piloted his steps, -with knees that were sometimes stiff and sometimes -tottering, in the direction of the Hotel St. Albans.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Without waiting to be announced, he went up and -knocked at the door of Miss Dounay's apartment. It -was opened a mere crack to reveal a nose and a bit of -an eyebrow. This facial fragment belonged to Julie, -and with it she managed to convey an expression at once -forbidding and inquisitorial.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, la la!" she exclaimed, after her survey. "It is -the handsome man. Come in," and the door swung wide. -"Madame will be glad to see you. Perhaps you bring -the diamonds."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Julie said all this in her slight but charming accent -with an attempt at good-humored vivacity, but that last -was a very embarrassing remark to a caller in young -Mr. Burbeck's delicate position. It caused one of his -knees to knock sharply against the other as he manoeuvered -to a position where he could lean against a heavy -William-and-Mary chair, and thus remain standing until -Miss Dounay should enter the room; since to sit down -and then rise again suddenly was a feat that promised -to be entirely beyond him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Moreover, light as had been Julie's manner, Rollie -saw that her appearance belied it. Her eyes were red, -her sharp little nose was also highly colored, and in her -hand was a tight ball of a handkerchief that had been -wetted to such compactness by tears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mercifully Miss Dounay did not leave time for the -young man's apprehensions to increase. She entered -almost as Julie disappeared, wearing something black and -oddly cut, a baggy thing, like a gown he remembered -once seeing upon a sculptress when at work in her studio. -It was the nearest to an unbecoming garb that he had -ever known Marien to wear, and yet unbecoming was -hardly the word. It did become her mood, which was -somber. Her face was pale, and there were shadows -beneath her eyes. She looked subdued, defeated even; -but by no means broken. There were hard lines about -her mouth, lines which Rollie had never seen there before. -She wore a sullen expression, and a passion that was -volcanic appeared to smoulder in her eyes. She greeted -him rather perfunctorily, as if her mind had been brooding -and, after bidding him be seated and sinking herself -upon a couch, cushion-piled as usual, shrouded herself -again in a state of aloofness which reminded him of the -weather when a storm is brooding.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie had expected her to be raging like a wild -woman,—alternately hurling anathemas at the thief for having -stolen her gems and heaping denunciations upon the -police because they had not already captured the criminal -and recovered the necklace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her apparent indifference to that subject only -emphasized to Rollie what he had before observed,—that it -was impossible ever to forecast the mind of this woman -upon any subject, or under any circumstances. At the -same time, the young man was extremely grateful for -this abstraction, because it made what he had to do vastly -easier.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose," he ventured huskily, "you are worried to -death about your diamonds."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sentence drew one lightning flash from her eyes, -and that was all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To tell you the truth, I have hardly thought of them," -she snapped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie sat with open mouth, totally unable to comprehend, -staring until his stare annoyed her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I say I have hardly thought of them," she repeated, -with an asperity entirely sufficient to recall the young -man from his amazement at her manner to the real object -of his visit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But wouldn't you like to get your diamonds back?" -he asked perspiringly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, silly!" the actress replied, not bothering -to conceal the fact that she regarded Burbeck as a child, -sometimes useful and sometimes a nuisance. Apparently, -she had hailed his advent because her ill humor -required a fresh butt, Julie's face having indicated -clearly that she had been made to suffer to the breaking -point.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Rollie was in no position to insist upon niceties of -speech or manner. He had a trouble compared to which -all other troubles of which he had ever conceived were -nothing at all. He was haunted by a terrible fear, and -to escape its torture he plumped full in the face of it by -blurting:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have come to tell you that you are going to get -your diamonds back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If Marien's demeanor were a pose, it must have -proved that she really was what her press agents -claimed,—the greatest actress on the English speaking stage. -She did not start, or speak. For a few seconds not even -the direction of her glance was changed. Then her face -did shift sufficiently for the black piercing eyes to stab -straight into Rollie's, while her brows were lifted -inquiringly. The glance said, "Well, go on!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man obeyed desperately: "I am an ambassador -for the—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Still Miss Dounay did not speak; she did not move -nor change an expression even; and yet Rollie felt -himself interrupted. He could not tell how this was done, -but he was sure that this woman had detected him in the -first note of insincerity and by a thought-wave had -emphatically said, "Don't lie to me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All at once, too, he realized that this motionless, -marble-lipped creature sitting there before him was more -implacable, more potential for evil than the raging tigress -he had expected to confront. He felt somehow that she -was not a woman, but a super-devil into whose clutches -he was being drawn. He even had a sense that he was -not going to be allowed any increased issue of moral -stock on the ground of telling this woman the truth. He -was going to tell her the truth because he had to, because -she hypnotized it out of him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I say," he began, and stopped to wet his lips, but -found his tongue so furred that it could not function in -that behalf. "I say," he went on again, croaking -hoarsely, "that I am the thief."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You? The banker?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie fell to wondering how blue vitriol bites. -Certainly it could not be more biting than the sarcasm in -look and tone with which the woman had asked this -question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man was going to prepare the soil for -throwing himself upon her mercy—this woman whom -he was now positive knew no such thing as mercy—by -telling her about his defalcation; but in the wooden state -of his mind, one quivering gleam of intelligence -suggested that it was quite unnecessary to tell her anything -about his defalcation; that it might give her an added -set of pincers for the torture she might choose to inflict.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I stole them," he affirmed doggedly. "And I -am going to bring them back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Going to?" she asked, again making the fine shade -of her meaning clear with the slightest expenditure of -sound.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, a little accident happened."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An accident!" The woman's eyes blazed, her cheeks -were aflame, and her whole attitude expressive of menace. -"You didn't lose them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I only lost control of them for a few hours through -a bit of stupidity," he confessed, and hurried on to -explain: "For safe keeping this morning I locked them -in John Hampstead's safe deposit box, and he went off -with the key. He's wandering around the tenderloin of -San Francisco now on an errand for a man in the county -jail, and they don't even expect him home before -to-morrow morning. We can get them—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again Rollie felt himself mentally interrupted, -although Miss Dounay had not spoken.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This time, however, her features did change -unmistakably. She had been listening with a cynical -expression that somehow suggested the manner of a cat about -to pounce; and suddenly this manner had departed. It -was succeeded by a look of surprise and then of thoughtful -interest, followed by that indefinable something which -bade him cease to speak. He paused abruptly with his -tongue in air, as it were; yet she neither spoke nor -looked at him. Her features were a sort of moving -picture of complex and swift-flying mental processes -which succeeded one another with astonishing rapidity -and ended in a queer expression of glory and triumph, -while she stiffened her body and drew a full breath so -quickly that the air whistled in her narrowing nostrils.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, as if becoming suddenly aware of the visitor's -presence, Miss Dounay turned her eyes directly upon him -and exclaimed, with a manner quite the most pleasant -she had yet displayed:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I beg your pardon, Mr. Burbeck. Something -you said started such an interesting train of thought."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her cordiality extended to the point of reaching out -a hand and laying it reassuringly upon Rollie's arm, while -she asked, and this time with a tone of real consideration:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will you be kind enough to tell me again, very carefully, -and a little more in detail, just why you couldn't -bring the diamonds to-day?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie, greatly relieved at this softening in Marien's -mood at the very point where he had feared she might -actually leap on him and throttle him, retold the story, -only being careful to omit all reference as to why he -chanced to be visiting Doctor Hampstead's box, and why -Doctor Hampstead happened to come into his office so -that he might pick up the key, as he did.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What an odd coincidence!" commented Marien, -when the recital was finished. Actually, she was laughing. -Rollie's heart went out to her completely. He felt -a sting of self-reproach at the harshness of his judgment -of her, and was sensible of a new charity growing in his -life for all mankind. It was really going to be made -easy for him to take "the way up." He felt like -singing a little psalm of thanksgiving.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And the minister has no idea that the diamonds are -in his vault?" that mercurial lady inquired, with a -chuckle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not the least in the world," assured Rollie, anxious -to relieve his benefactor of any slightest odium of -indiscretion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And when did you say Doctor Hampstead was -expected home from San Francisco?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Dounay had stopped laughing and had an intent -look, as if desiring to understand something very clearly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps the last boat to-night—possibly not till -to-morrow morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then there is no way of getting the jewels until -to-morrow morning?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"None at all," confessed Rollie. "But as a matter of -fact, they are perfectly safe there—safer than they are -in your own apartment."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So I should say," Miss Dounay observed dryly, "unless -I revise my guest list."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie flushed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That was coming to me," he confessed, frowning at -himself. "That and much more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His tone was serious and full of bitter self-reproach. -Miss Dounay's surprisingly indulgent attitude emboldened -him to pursue the disagreeable subject farther.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have not told you," he went on, "that I came to -ask you for mercy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you not perceive that you are getting it without -asking?" the actress replied, with a liquid glance that -was really full of gentleness and sympathy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course," Rollie averred. "But I am so grateful -that I did not want you to think I could take it for -granted. I was in a terrible position, Miss Dounay. -The crime was not accidental, but deliberate; that it -miscarried was the accident. But that your diamonds are -to be restored to you, and that I myself am on my way -to a sort of character restoration, if I ever had any, -which I begin to doubt, is all due to one good friend -whom I saw to-day, and who is also a good friend of -yours."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again Rollie was interrupted; but this time there was -nothing intangible about it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Dounay's face grew suddenly hard; cruel lines -that were tense and threatening appeared about her -mouth, while her eyes bored straight into his, as she -exclaimed: "Never mind about that now. As for the -theft: you need never hear from me one word about -what you have done. The only injunction that I lay -upon you is to keep absolute silence about it yourself. -Remember, no matter what comes to pass, you know -nothing and have nothing to say. So long as you are -silent, I will protect you absolutely. Break the silence, -and you will go where you belong!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of all the hard glances Miss Dounay had given young -Burbeck, the look which accompanied this last menacing -sentence was positively the hardest. A spasm of mortal -terror wrung the young man's heart, as he saw how -deliberately implacable this woman could be, and how -completely he was in her power.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But presently, Miss Dounay, as if suddenly ashamed -of her outburst of feeling over so slight an occasion, -broke into radiant smiles, took Rollie by the arm, and -led him a few steps in the direction of the door. Her -manner was gracious and almost affectionate, proclaiming -that at least as long as all went well with her moods, -the whole wretched incident was past and forgotten -absolutely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As if to make this emphatically clear, she inquired:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And when is it that you go out with Mrs. Ellsworth -Harrington upon her launch party?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With Mrs. Harrington's launch party?" Rollie -asked, in a dazed voice, his mind groping as at some -elusive memory.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," the actress replied crisply. "You told me -yesterday you were going out to-day with her party for -a cruise on the Bay."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yesterday!" confessed Rollie dreamily. "By Jove, -so I did. But," and as though it made all the -difference in the world, "that was yesterday!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And isn't to-day to-day?" Miss Dounay asked -significantly. "Going to buck up, aren't you?" she -continued with intimate friendliness of tone. "You are -still to continue as the Amalgamated's social ambassador?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, of course," the young man replied, although -weakly, for after what he had passed through of hope -and fear in the past few hours and even the past few -minutes, he felt quite unequal to any such prospect as -the immediate resumption of his social duties.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But it was a part of the swiftly forming plans of the -strong willed woman that he should take them up -immediately, and she cleverly recalled his mind to the -necessity of special attention to Mrs. Harrington's -projects by inquiring tentatively: "I suppose -Mrs. Harrington was very much put out because I did not -attend her dinner last night?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should say!" confessed Rollie, turning a wry face -at the memory.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Suppose," suggested Miss Dounay in calculating -tones, "that I went with you upon her launch party this -afternoon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You? Oh! Miss Dounay!" Rollo exclaimed, with -another of his looks of dog-like gratefulness. "Could -you be as good as that? Why, say!" and the young -man's enthusiasm actually began to kindle. "You'd -undo the damage of last night and fix me with her for -life. Positively for life; because," and he hesitated -while an expression half ludicrous and half painful -crossed his face; "because you are ten times as big a -social asset now that—that—" he could not bring -himself to finish the sentence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Miss Dounay relieved him of his embarrassment -by appearing not to notice and broke in with a practical -question:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What time does the launch leave the pier?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At four. It is now one-thirty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment Miss Dounay's brow was threaded with -lines of thought, as if she were making calculations and -tying the loose ends of some project together in her -mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," she said, her face clearing and a look of impish -happiness coming into her eyes, "I can go. It will be -a delightful relief. I have been bored beyond measure -by my own company to-day. Come here at three-thirty -and François will take us to the pier."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-first-alarm"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXVII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE FIRST ALARM</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Doctor Hampstead was more successful than he had -dared to hope in his quest for the woman of the -underworld to whom the Red Lizard, from his position in the -county jail, acknowledged a tardy obligation. By five -o'clock the sufferer was located, her condition inquired -into, and the services of a nurse from the Social -Settlement near by arranged for, with instructions that -the minister be notified of any serious change in the -patient's condition.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His breast warmed comfortably with the sense of duty -done, the clergyman made his way toward the water -front, congratulating himself that he would get the six -o'clock boat and be at home in time for dinner; but as he -walked through the ferry building, his eye was caught -by a headline in one of the evening papers. "MINISTER -TO BE ARRESTED" it proclaimed in tall -characters of glaring black; and he reflected cynically -at the eagerness with which the headline makers seize -upon that word "minister" or any of its synonyms. It -made the black letters blacker when they spelled -minister, priest, or clergyman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wondering what preacher could have got himself in -trouble, and feeling a slight sense of resentment at the -creature, whoever he might be, to have thus brought -notoriety and possible dishonor upon the calling, Doctor -Hampstead bought a copy of the paper from fat -Hermann of the crutch and red face, who has stood so -many years at the ferry gate; but reading no farther -than the headline, he doubled the paper in his hand and -elbowed his way through the crowd to a seat on the -exposed upper deck of the ferryboat. Wearied from the -exertions of his day, the minister found temporary -diversion in watching the fountains of humanity gushing up -the stairways. Many of the people he knew, and those -who saw him nodded as they passed. Once or twice it -struck him that there was something peculiar in these -glances of recognition, a startled look of surprise or -wonder that he could not quite understand. Occasionally -the bold look of a man he did not know but who -apparently recognized him had in it a quality of cynicism -or of gloating.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a disagreeable feeling of embarrassment which -he did not undertake to explain, the minister turned away -from the crowd and fell to watching the sweep of bay -and the plowing craft upon it. The fresh salt breeze -was very grateful to his face and lungs after the noisome -alleys through which his mission had taken him. The -water this evening was amethyst blue, and under the -prows of the passing boats broke into foam of marble -whiteness. The sky above was a pure turquoise, except -towards the west, where the descending sun kindled a -conflagration of glory in the low-lying clouds. All this -wealth of refreshing color and the tonic in the stiffening -breeze made the world not only seem fresh and pure, but -full of power; as if to give assurance that the ocean and -the coming night were big enough and strong enough -to swallow all the unpleasantness and all the weakness -and wickedness of men, and send the sun up to-morrow -morning upon a new day that was fresh and pristine, -like the day of creation itself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead remembered his prayer of the morning that -this particular day might be a great one, and felt a -trifle disappointed. In a kind of a way it had been big. -Rollie Burbeck had come to him, broken and cowering. -He had helped him; he believed he had saved him. -Surely, for the time being, he had saved that gifted -mother of his from the awful shock of knowing that her -son was a defaulter and a thief. True, he had plunged -heavily in rescuing that boy; yet the money came from -people who believed in Hampstead sufficiently to give -him of their surplus wealth for just such ventures. If -the effort failed, they would regret the loss of the man -more than the loss of the money.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet the minister really believed that Rollie was going -to take the "way up", and assuring himself once more -of this, fell to wondering how Miss Dounay received the -penitent when he brought back the diamonds, and -whether she had acted generously or spitefully. -Speculating next whether the story of the return of the -diamonds had been given to the newspapers yet, and -anxious to know how they had handled it, if it had, -Hampstead bethought him of the paper in his hand and -unfolded it for inspection.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the make-up of the front page forced his attention -back upon the matter of the minister who was to be -arrested. The sub-head startled him, for it contained -his own name, while the opening sentence revealed that -it was himself who was to be arrested, and that the -occasion of the arrest was the charge that he had stolen -the Dounay diamonds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the first impact of this astounding piece of news, an -exclamation of amazement broke from the minister's -lips; but immediately his teeth were set hard as his eye -dived down the column, lapping up the words of the -story by sentences and almost by paragraphs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Dounay, it appeared, had gone to the office of -District Attorney Miller at three o'clock that afternoon -by appointment, and had there sworn to a complaint, -charging him, the Reverend John Hampstead, with the -theft of her diamond necklace, valued at twenty-two -thousand dollars. There were a few lines of an -interview with District Attorney Miller, in which that -official stated that at first he had not regarded Miss Dounay's -charges seriously, but that the actress was so emphatic -in her demand for the warrant of arrest that he had not -felt himself justified in refusing it. At the same time, -the District Attorney expressed his personal belief in the -innocence of the minister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An attempt to serve the warrant immediately, the story -said, had been frustrated by the temporary absence of the -Reverend Hampstead in San Francisco upon one of his -accustomed missions of mercy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The article concluded with the statement that while it -was generally known that Doctor Hampstead was one -of Miss Dounay's guests on the night before, the report -that he had been charged with the theft of the diamonds -was everywhere received with a smile, and there was -some harsh criticism of the District Attorney for issuing -a complaint, the only effect of which must be to gratify -the enemies of the clergyman, and to lessen his influence, -thus hampering him in the good work he was doing in -the community. This would be all to no purpose, since -even a preliminary hearing must be sufficient to show -that there was no evidence against him, and that the -complaint itself was due to the extravagant suspicion of -a highly nervous woman, laboring under great emotional -strain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That the actress herself, a woman of moods and caprices, -had no adequate appreciation of the seriousness of -her act in thus attacking the character of Doctor -Hampstead was made evident to the reporters, when a -telephone call to her apartments revealed that in the very -hour when an endeavor to serve the warrant of arrest -was being made, the actress was leaving her hotel in the -company of a well-known young business man for a -pleasure cruise upon the Bay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister saw with satisfaction how completely the -facts as developed had been edited into a story, the -assumptions of which were entirely favorable to him. -That was good. It was also right. That in itself would -show this reckless woman that the people would refuse -to believe ill of him upon the word of any mere stranger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nevertheless, reflection on the sheer impudence of the -woman's attack made Hampstead angry, and with a -quick, nervous movement he crushed the paper into a -ball and hurled it over the side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Was there ever a story of blacker ingratitude? Was -there ever a weaker, more craven specimen of a man? -Was there ever a more clever, more devilish woman?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So this was the way she made good her threat. She -had set this trap, had persuaded Rollie to pretend to steal -the diamonds and to make a false confession to him, -during which the minister had actually sealed the -diamonds in one of his own envelopes. John wished he -could be sure whether the young rascal actually took -the diamonds away with him, as he appeared to do, or -whether he didn't drop them in a drawer of the desk -or about the study, where a search would reveal them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With facial expression quite unministerial Hampstead's -mind raced on to the question whether the story -of the defalcation was also trumped up? But at this -point his excited mental processes halted, puzzled for a -moment; and then abruptly his face cleared, as he saw -the untenableness of his suddenly conceived theory. No; -it would not do. Rollie had undoubtedly been perfectly -sincere, and this scheming Jezebel of a woman had merely -taken advantage of him in the moment of confession, -and made him either consciously or unconsciously, and -perhaps helplessly, a tool of her desperate vengeance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And vengeance for what? Hampstead kept asking -himself that, and never got farther with an answer than -the rage of a self-centered, heartless woman at his failure -to pay the supreme tribute to vanity by making love to -her as once he had done, and giving her the gloating -satisfaction of spurning him as she had spurned him -before. This was the extent of his crime against her, -and this bold, bald attempt to destroy him was the -punishment she had devised. Heavens! Had the woman no -sense of responsibility at all? No consciousness of all -the terrible harm she would be doing to so many others -besides himself if she succeeded in ruining him? Think -of the men and women who trusted him, the young boys -and girls to whom he was pointed out as a shining -example, the struggling people who found inspiration and -courage in the spectacle of his own dauntless battlings -for the right.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John felt that it was not egotism to think of himself -in this way. He knew it as a fact because he had to -know it, because men told him so continually, and -because it was a supremely steadying influence upon his -own life. He dared not swerve. Rollie Burbeck was -not the only man in the community who owed him for -escape from a fall, or who was toiling laboriously -upward, with an eye on the minister climbing far above -and turning cheerfully to beckon or lower an Alpine -rope for part of the weakened climber's load.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And the Dounay woman knew all of this. Some of -it he had shown to her in the hope that it would be an -inspiration. Some of it she had seen for herself. But -now, in her malice and hatred, she took no account of all -that. Unable to make him swerve, she was wickedly -determined to hurl him down. And having used Rollo -Burbeck this far, John had no doubt at all that her -genius would be entirely equal to using him still further, -by binding him to absolute secrecy as to his knowledge -of the minister's innocence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But this thought brought home another with shocking -force,—the realization that Rollie, the one man who -could vindicate him of this charge must not vindicate -him! For Rollie to speak and ruin himself seemed only -fair, rather than for the minister to be ruined; yet -for the young man to confess would be a terrible blow to -the mother,—would in fact most likely kill her. That -was unthinkable. That blow must be prevented at all -hazards.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But even eliminating the mother, and supposing the -young man too craven to speak out for himself, Hampstead -knew, thinking back a few hours, that on his honor -as a minister he had sealed his own lips concerning the -young man's confession; he had hinged his appeal to the -moral consciousness of that misguided youth upon his -own fealty as a priest of God to the sacred trust of -confession. How presumptuous this afternoon sounded -that speech which he had made to the wretched penitent -this morning with such easy assurance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet, presumptuous or not, Hampstead's reasonings -had led him quickly to the one outstanding fact: His -knowledge of who did steal the diamonds could never -be used in his defense. His vindication must depend -solely on the inability of Miss Dounay to prove her case. -This in itself put him in a negative and an unnatural -position, an all but helpless position. His nature was -aggressive. He was a fighter, not a "stander." Instead -of vindication, he could never get more than a Scotch -verdict of "not proven." He would have to face the -community with that. Well, thank God, he was strong -enough for that; strong enough to simply stand and -endure! Yes, testing his moral fiber by the best judgment -he could form of what the strain would be like, he felt -equal to the load. In the consciousness of this strength, -his shoulders stiffened with pride and a sort of eagerness -to take up their burden. A sense of triumph even came -to him. This self-deluding woman should see how -strong he was, and how unshakable was the faith of the -community in the integrity of his character.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But when the minister, rather calmed by having -hardened himself thus against what appeared to be coming -upon him, lifted his eyes suddenly from the deck, he -was disconcerted to observe a group of people eyeing -him curiously at a distance of some dozen or twenty feet. -These were people whom he did not recognize, but some -one of them evidently knew him and had pointed him out -to the rest. He reflected that they must have been -watching him for some time. No doubt they had -observed his demeanor as he read the paper, and -afterwards when he tossed it away in anger. He must have -made quite an exhibition of himself, and it gave him a -creepy sensation to catch these curious, unfeeling eyes -upon him as if they viewed the struggles of a fly in a -spider's web. It made him feel that he was entangled, -and he began to realize what a diversion his entanglement -would afford this whole metropolitan community, and -that to-night, through the headlines in the papers, -everybody was watching him just as these people were. He -reflected, too, that there is a fascination about watching -the fall of a tall tree, of a tall flagpole, or of a tall human -being. At the moment Hampstead did not feel so very -tall; yet he knew that deservedly or undeservedly, he -was upon a position of eminence, and his fall would -afford an interesting spectacle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, he did not intend to fall. Rising vigorously -from his seat, the minister confronted with a smile the -group who had been gazing at him. "Good evening, -gentlemen," he said pleasantly, and walked toward the -front of the boat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Some nerve, what!" was a comment that broke out -of the group as he passed it. Whether the words were -meant for his ears or not, they reached them and caused -another smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll show them nerve!" he mused, with foolish but -very human pride.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mingling in the crowd which trampled and elbowed its -way off the boat, the minister was careful to bear himself -with open-eyed good cheer. He kept his chin up, a -self-confident smile upon his face, and his eyes roving for a -sight of familiar faces. Whenever he caught the eye -of an acquaintance, the greeting he bestowed was hearty -and betokened a man without the slightest cause for -anxiety of any sort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nevertheless, it was disturbing to perceive that people -rather avoided his eye. Generally quite the reverse was -true, and it was rare upon the boat that some one did not -approach him and fall into conversation. Yet so subtle -is that mysterious psychology of the social impulse that -now a mere publication of the fact that he was to be -arrested, even accompanied, as it was, by the statement -that nobody believed him guilty, had yet sufficient -influence to make him shunned. What a silly world it was, -after all!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But in making the transfer from the ferry to the -suburban train, there was a walk of two hundred feet, with -a news stand on the way, and then fresh disillusionment -lay in wait for Doctor Hampstead, in the form of a later -edition of another Oakland paper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"CLERIC FLIES ARREST," bawled this headline -stridently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister's lip curled sarcastically at sight of this, -but he bought the paper, reading as he walked to the -car steps. But the sub-head was more disturbing. -"Hampstead's Premises Searched," it declared, the types -seeming to scream the words exultantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Searched—and in his absence! This was outrageous! -More; it was alarming, for there were papers in his -study which he had good reason for keeping from the -eyes of the police. Fortunately, however, the most -important of these were in the safe deposit box. He felt -deeply grateful now for this box, the key to which was -in his pocket; and after a sympathetic thought for Rose, -Dick, and Tayna, and the excited, bewildered state in -which they must have received the officers, the clergyman -turned his mind to a contemplation of this new account -in detail, and thereby got his first real taste of what an -unfriendly attitude on the part of a newspaper can make -of the most innocent circumstances.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Up to now, the minister, his utterances, his denunciations, -even his moral crusades, had been popular. The -papers had put the most favorable construction upon all -his acts. Their columns and their headlines had done -him respect and honor. But now this paper had put -every circumstance in the worst possible light. It -cleverly touched up those scenes in the picture which -looked incriminating and left the others unillumined, until -one would never gather from the story that there was any -reason to doubt the guilt or the guilty flight of the -minister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead attributed this to mere unfriendliness, never -suspecting that in one hour between editions an editor -could have subtly sensed a popular readiness to accept -the worst view of his case, and deliberately pandered -to it as a mere matter of commercial newsmongering; -nor that this unfavorable account was to be accepted as -the first straw blown up in a hurricane of adverse -criticism which would rise and sweep over the city and -blow its very hardest in the aisles of All People's Church -itself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The effect of this narrative upon Hampstead's mind -was unspeakably oppressive, and he looked up from its -perusal with relief and pleasure at finding a well-known -physician in the seat beside him. The doctor was -prominent in the work of one of the Encina churches, and -had been particularly sympathetic with Hampstead in -campaigns against petty crime. The minister had a -right, therefore, to feel that this man was one of his -friends; yet the physician greeted him with a self-conscious -air and immediately relapsed into silence. Hampstead -endured this until the humor of the situation forced -itself upon him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, cheer up," he laughed, poking the physician with -an elbow. "You probably know worse people than -diamond thieves."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The doctor also laughed and disclaimed any sense of -gloom, but his was an embarrassed merriment, and he -refrained from meeting the eye of the minister. However, -after another interval of silence, as if feeling that -he should at any rate say something, he reached over and -laid a patronizing hand upon the minister's knee.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, Doctor Hampstead," he suggested, "every -one is confident you will be able to prove your innocence."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister made an ejaculation that was short and -sharp.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The doctor looked at him with surprise, as if -questioning whether he heard aright.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Under the law, I thought a man was presumed to be -innocent, and that his accusers had to prove his guilt," -went on Hampstead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The doctor flushed slightly, and while his eyes roved -through the car window, declared:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I am afraid, Doctor Hampstead, you will find -that a public man against whom a charge like this is -hurled is presumed to be guilty until he proves himself -innocent."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is your attitude?" inquired Hampstead coldly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, by no means," protested the physician.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is his attitude all the same," commented the minister -to himself, somewhat bitterly, as he descended from -the train at the station nearest his home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How does he take it?" asked one sage citizen, crowding -into the vacant seat beside the physician, while a -second leaned over from behind to hear the answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very much worried," replied the doctor, as gravely -and as oracularly as he would have pronounced upon -another man's patient. "Very much worried!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Would you believe," the physician inquired presently -of the first citizen, with a hesitating and extremely -confidential air, "would you believe that Doctor -Hampstead would say 'hell'—outside of a sermon, I mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," answered the man addressed, "I would not," -and his eyebrows were lifted, while his whole face -expressed surprise, shock, and a desire for confirmation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," concluded the doctor enigmatically, "neither -would I." And that was all Doctor Mann did say upon -the subject, yet citizen number one, while casting the dice -with citizen number two at the Tobacco Emporium on the -corner next the railroad station to see which should pay -for their after-dinner smoke, communicated in confidence -that the Reverend Hampstead had, in the stress of his -emotion, uttered an oath; in fact, and to be specific, had -said that his persecutors, all and singular, and this actress -woman in particular, could go to hell!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This conference between citizen one and two may have -been overheard. An inference that it was so overheard -might have been drawn from the columns of </span><em class="italics">The -Sentinel</em><span>, which next morning concluded its story of the -remarkable developments of the night with the observation -that the character of the minister was evidently cracking -under the strain, since last night upon the suburban train, -when a friend addressed him with a solicitous inquiry, -the accused clergyman had broken into a stream of -profane objurgations loud enough to be heard above the roar -of the train in several seats around. It was added that -the reverend gentleman quickly regained control of his -feelings and apologized for his form of expression by -saying that he had been overworked for a long time and -the developments of the day had seriously upset him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John Hampstead read this particular paragraph in </span><em class="italics">The -Sentinel</em><span> with a sense of utter amazement at the wicked -mendacity of public rumor, since what he had said to -Doctor Mann was merely "Humph!" uttered with sharp -and scornful emphasis.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But there was a far bigger story than that in the -morning </span><em class="italics">Sentinel</em><span>. It had to do with those things which -happened between the hour when John Hampstead dropped -from his train, a little irritated with Doctor Mann, and -the hour when he went to bed, but not to sleep.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-arrest"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXVIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE ARREST</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>As the perturbed minister, hurrying from the train, -turned into the short street leading toward his home -upon the Bay-side, he was charged upon by Dick and -Tayna, both of whom, in the state of their emotion, -forgot High School dignity and came rushing upon their -uncle with feet thudding like running ostriches. Tayna's -cheeks were red as her Titian hair with flaming indignation, -and her eyes burned like lights, while her full red -lips pouted out: "Isn't it a shame?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a darn piece of blackmail, that's what it is, and -it's actionable, too!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This oracular verdict, of course, came panting from -the lips of Dick, who, over-exerted by his run, stood with -arms akimbo, hands holding his sides, and his too heavy -head tipping backward on his shoulders, while with -scrutinizing eye he studied the face of his uncle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As for Hampstead, in the devoted loyalty of these -fatherless children and the distress of mind which each -exhibited, he entirely forgot the sense of hot injustice -and wrong burning in his own breast. All the emotion -he was then capable of turned itself into sympathy for -them and solicitous anticipations as to the effect of the -whole wretched business upon his sister Rose. With a -sweep of his strong arms, he gathered the two young -people to his breast, printing a kiss on Tayna's cheek, -which he found burning hot, and squeezing Dick until -the stripling gasped and struggled for release as he used -to do when a squirming youngster. With his arms still -affectionately about the shoulders of the two, Hampstead -walked on down the street, palm-studded, with flower-bordered -skirts of green on either side and the blue vista -of the Bay showing dimly in the growing dusk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rose was waiting on the piazza. Her face was very -calm, yet to John's keen eye, it bore a look of desperately -mustered self-control. With the ready intuition of her -sex, she had divined far more completely than her brother -how desperate and dangerous was the struggle upon -which he was entering, and she was determined to give -him every advantage that sympathy, poise, and unwavering -loyalty could supply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's all right, Rose, all right," he hastened to assure -her, as the steps were mounted. "A mere extravagance -of an excited woman that the papers have made into a -great sensation. It will melt away like fog. We are -helpless for a few days until I can demand and receive -a hearing upon preliminary trial. That will show that -they have no case at all. Until then, we must simply -stand and be strong."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rose was already in her brother's arms, yet his speech, -instead of reassuring her, made the tears flow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is so—so humiliating to think of you defending -yourself," she protested, "to hear you talk of their -inability to make out a case. It seems so—so lowering, -as if you were going to be put on trial just like a criminal."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why," replied John, "that's just what it all means. -</span><em class="italics">Just like a criminal!</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He said the thing strongly enough, but after it came a -choke in the throat. He had not really comprehended -this before. He had thought of making his defense -from the standpoint of the popular idol that he was. As -a matter of fact, he was going to trial like any criminal. -His vantage ground was merely that of the prisoner at -the bar. This prepared him for what Rose had to say -next; for subtly perceiving that her brother had -sustained an additional shock, her own self-control revived. -Wiping her eyes, she turned to lead the way within.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They," she said solemnly, "are waiting in the study."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They?" inquired Hampstead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There are four men in there," Rose replied. "They -want," and her voice threatened to break, "they want you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this bald putting of the horrible fact, Tayna burst -into a wail of woe and flung her arms about her uncle, -whom she had followed into the hall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There, there, girl, don't cry," urged her uncle -soothingly. "There is no occasion for it; this is annoying -but not necessarily distressing. It is a mere formality -of the law which must be complied with. Run along -now, all of you, and wash the tears out of your eyes. I -will be with you in five minutes. Let us sit down to a -happy, cheerful dinner. I confess I am a little upset -myself, but not too disturbed to be hungry," and with a -weak attempt at grimacing humor, the big man laid a -hand upon the region of his diaphragm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In his study, as Rose had forewarned him, the -minister found four men: Searle, Assistant District -Attorney; Wyatt, Deputy Sheriff; and two city detectives.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Searle was a suave, resourceful man and the one -assistant in the District Attorney's office whom -Hampstead had found himself unable to trust; and that rather -because of his personal and political associations than -for any overt act of which the minister was cognizant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wyatt was a bloated person, amiable in disposition, -whose excess of egotism was coupled with a paucity of -intelligence, yet wholly incorruptible and with an -exaggerated sense of duty that made him a capable -officer,—a thing with which his breeding, which was obtrusively -low, did not interfere.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead was able to master his feelings sufficiently -to greet the quartet urbanely, if not cordially.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A disagreeable duty, I assure you," conceded Searle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A disagreeable experience," laughed Hampstead, but -with no great suggestion of levity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I guess I don't need to read this to you, Doc," said -the Deputy Sheriff, as he opened to Hampstead a document -drawn from his pocket. "It is a warrant for your -arrest."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister took the document and glanced it -through, his eyes hesitating for a moment at the name of -the complaining witness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Alice Higgins?" he asked, with an inquiring glance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The true name of the complaining witness and accuser," -replied Searle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I see," assented John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It had never occurred to him that Marien Dounay was -only a stage name. Was there anything at all about this -woman that was not false, he wondered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John returned the warrant to Wyatt and caught the -look in that officer's eye. A sense of the horrible -indignity of arrest came over the minister, a perception of -what it meant: this yielding of one's liberty, of one's -body to the possession of another, who might be a coarser -and more inferior person than one's self. With a guilty -flush, John thought how many times in his crusades -against the gamblers and small law-breakers he had -procured the swearing out of complaints that led to the -arrest of scores of men. He had marveled at the -venomous hatred which those men later displayed toward -himself, regarding him as the author of a public disgrace -put upon them, and not upon them alone but upon their -families also. Now he understood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The bail is fixed at ten thousand dollars," explained -Searle smoothly. "When we got your telephone message -that you would be home at seven o'clock, I took the -liberty of arranging for Judge Brennan to be in his -chambers at nine to-night so that you could be there -with your bondsmen and not have to spend the night in -jail."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That was very considerate of you," assented the -minister, a huskiness in his tone despite himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The night in jail! The very idea. And ten thousand -dollars bail! He had expected to be released upon his -own recognizance. Again that disagreeable intimation -of being treated like a common criminal came crowding -in with a suffocating effect upon his spirit. But he -rallied, exclaiming with another effort at easy urbanity: -"Very well, I acknowledge my arrest, and it will be -unnecessary to detain you gentlemen further. I shall be -glad to meet you with my bondsmen in the judge's -chambers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Deputy Sheriff coughed in an embarrassed way, -but stood stolidly before his prisoner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sorry, Doctor Hampstead," explained Searle, -"but we shall have to search you. Benson's men here -will do that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Search me?" exclaimed Hampstead, with a sudden -sense of insult. "By the appearance of things," he -added, while casting a sarcastic look at the signs of -disorder about, "I should think this farce had been carried -far enough. You did not find the diamonds here. You -do not expect to find them upon my person, do you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The speaker's tones witnessed a natural indignation -and considerable irritability.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I got to do my duty," replied Wyatt stubbornly, making -a sign to the two detectives, who immediately arose -and advanced upon the minister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For an instant the situation was exceedingly tense. -Hampstead was a very strong man, and his resentment -at what seemed an insult put upon him with malice, was -very hot. But good sense triumphed in the interval of -thought which the officers diplomatically allowed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, of course," he exclaimed with a gesture of -submission, "you men are only cogs. Once the machinery -of the law is put in motion, you must turn with the -other wheels. Pardon my irritation, gentlemen, but the -situation is unusual for me and rather hard. I feel the -injustice and indignity of it very keenly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We appreciate your situation perfectly," said Assistant -District Attorney Searle smoothly. "As you say, -we are all of us cogs."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet the actual search of his person, once entered on, -seemed to Hampstead to proceed rather perfunctorily, -although at the same time he got from the faces and -manner of all four an impression of something they were -holding in reserve.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is this?" asked one of the detectives dramatically, -holding up a long, narrow key with a red rubber -band doubled and looped about the neck, which he had -just extracted from the minister's pocket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is the key to my safe deposit box at the -Amalgamated National," replied Hampstead, naturally enough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then," said Wyatt bluntly, "we've got to search that box."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister was instantly on his guard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some play of eyes between the four men, accompanied -by a subtle change in the expression of their faces, -warned him that they must have been apprised of the -existence of this box and that the key was the real -object of their personal search. Hampstead resolved -hastily to defeat them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I decline to permit it," he declared shortly. "There -are very private papers in that box, things which have -been communicated to me in the utmost confidence, and -I would not be justified in permitting you—or any one -else—to handle them. Under the rules of the bank, -without my consent or an order of court, you could not -reach the box."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have that order of court here," said Searle, speaking -up quickly, but with cold precision of utterance, "in -a search warrant directed particularly to your safe -deposit box."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Like a flash, Hampstead thought that he understood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So that is what you are here for, Searle?" he -snapped sarcastically, turning and confronting the -Assistant District Attorney. "I never have trusted you. -I couldn't understand your presence here or your -interest in this silly charge; but now I comprehend fully. -You have taken advantage of it to get your eyes on the -perjury case I have against your bosom friend, Jack -Roche. Well, I warn you! This is where I stop and -fight!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Searle refused to get angry at this bald impugnment -of his integrity and motives. No doubt it was his -confidence in an ultimate and complete humiliation of -the minister that enabled him to maintain an unruffled -demeanor while he suggested blandly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps you ought not to proceed further, Doctor -Hampstead, without the advice of a lawyer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The proposal touched the minister in his pride.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A lawyer?" he objected scornfully. "Thank you, -no! My cause requires no expert advocacy. In my -experience of the past four years, I have learned quite -enough about court practice to cope with this ridiculous -burlesque without professional assistance."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Searle, playing his cards deliberately, took advantage -of the minister's assumed acquaintance with legal lore to -suggest with alacrity:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know then, Doctor, that it is useless to fight a -court order of this sort, as you spoke of doing in your -excitement a moment ago. I think, with the attorneys -of your Civic League, you have gone through a safe -deposit box or two upon your own account, by means of -just such a search warrant as I now exhibit to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again Hampstead's second thought assured him that -he was powerless to resist.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he confessed resignedly to Searle's speech, -after the necessary interval for consideration, "I -suppose I must admit it. When I spoke of fighting, I spoke -in heat; partly because I feel the gross injustice and -bitter wrong this senseless charge is doing to innocent -people other than myself, who am also innocent, and partly -because, as I have already told you, I utterly distrust -your motive in making the whole of this search. You -must be as well aware as I that this charge is the work of -a woman who, to speak most charitably, is beside herself -with excitement."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Searle only smiled, and observed with urbanity -unruffled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sorry, Doctor, that you distrust me. You -may have the privilege, of course, of being present when -we examine the contents of the box."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Naturally I shall insist upon that," said the minister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In that case," Searle added with significant emphasis, -"I think your observations will convince you that -we are solely concerned in a search for the diamonds."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As I like to believe well of all men, I shall hope so," -countered the minister; and then, since the demeanor of -the officers made it clear there was no more searching to -be done, he continued, after a glance at his watch: "If -I am to meet Judge Brennan and yourself with my -bondsmen at nine o'clock, I suggest that we go from there -direct to the bank vaults. They are accessible until -midnight, as you doubtless know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, Doctor," replied Searle in that oily voice -which indicated how completely to his satisfaction affairs -were progressing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And now," suggested the minister, with a nod toward -the street door, "as the hour is late, I will ask you -gentlemen to excuse me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Searle darted a look at Wyatt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very sorry, Doc, but I got to stay with you," volunteered -the deputy, "and hand you over to the judge."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once more the flush of offense mounted to the cheek -of Hampstead. Hand him over to the judge! How -galling such language was when used of him! Again -he recalled with compunction how many arrests he had -caused without an emotion beyond the satisfaction of an -angler when he hooks a fish. But he—John Hampstead—minister, -preacher, pastor of All People's; a shining -light in a vast metropolitan community! Surely it was -something different and infinitely more degrading for -him to be arrested than for a mere plasterer, or mayhap -a councilman? He had a greater right than they to be -wrathful and resentful. Besides, they were guilty. -Judges, juries, or their own confessions, had unfailingly -so declared. He was innocent, spotlessly innocent of the -charge against him. His defenselessness proceeded -from relations of comparative intimacy with the actress, -and his priestly knowledge of the guilty person. Yet the -thought of this helped humor and good sense to triumph -again, over his rising choler.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, very well," he exclaimed, half-jocularly, -half-derisively. "Make yourself at home; all of you make -yourselves at home. We are accustomed to an unexpected -guest or two at the table. Be prepared to come -out to dinner. Listen, if you like, while an arrested -felon telephones to his friends, seeking bondsmen. You -may hear secret codes and signals passing over the wire. -You may even wish to put under surveillance the -gentlemen with whom I communicate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Doctor! Doctor!" protested Searle, with hands -uplifted comically. "Your hospitality and your irony both -embarrass us. The detectives and I will be on our way. -Wyatt will have to do his duty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As you please," exclaimed Hampstead, who was fast -recovering his poise; "quite as you please."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With this speech he held open the outside door and -bade the three departing guests good evening; and then, -while the Deputy waited in the room, the clergyman was -busy at the telephone until he had the promise of three -different gentlemen of his acquaintance to meet him at -Judge Brennan's chambers at nine that night and qualify -as his bondsmen in the sum of ten thousand dollars.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This much attended to, dinner became the next order; -but it was not a very happy affair. There had never -been a time when the little family group, bound together -by ties that were unusually tender, wished more to be -alone at a meal. Now, when the superfluous presence -was the official representative of the very thing that had -plunged them into gloom, the situation became one of -torture. Food stuck to palates. Scraps of conversation -were dropped at rare intervals and upon entirely -extraneous subjects in which nobody, not even the speakers, -had the slightest interest. At times there was no sound -save the audible enjoyment of his food by their guest, -for the Deputy Sheriff, accustomed to the ruthless thrust -of his official self into the personal and sometimes the -domestic life of individuals, was quite too crass to sense -the embarrassment and positive pain his presence caused -and was also exceedingly hungry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In this general silence, the grating of wheels on the -graveled walk outside the study door sounded loudly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Burbeck!" exclaimed Hampstead in some surprise. -"She never came to me at night before. Finish -your dinner, Deputy. If you will excuse me, I must -receive one of my parishioners in the study."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sorry, but I can't excuse you, Doc," replied Wyatt -jocularly; "but if you'll excuse me for just a minute, -while I get away with this second piece of loganberry pie, -I'll be with you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Be with me?" asked the minister, color rising. "Do -you mean that you will intrude upon the privacy of an -interview with a helpless lady in a wheel chair who -comes to see me alone?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wyatt's fat cheek was bulging, and there were tiny -streams of crimson juice at the corners of the lips; but -he interrupted himself long enough to reply bluntly: -"I ain't agoin' to let you out of my sight. Orders is -orders, that's all I got to say."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But tell me, Wyatt, who gave you such orders?" -queried the minister, with no effort to conceal his -irritation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Searle. And they were give to him," answered the -Deputy phlegmatically, his fat-imbedded eyes intent upon -the white and crimson segment of pastry on his plate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And who gave such orders to him?" persisted Hampstead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you ask me—" began the Deputy, and then exasperatingly -blotted out the possibility of further speech -by the transfer of the dripping triangle to his mouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I do ask you," declared the minister curtly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He got 'em from Miss Dounay."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And is that woman running the District Attorney's -office?" questioned the minister scornfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Search me!" gulped Wyatt, with a shrug of his -shoulders. "I had one look at her. She's got eyes like -a pair of automatics. You take it from me, Doc," and -Wyatt laid his unoccupied hand upon the sleeve of the -minister, "if she's got anything on you, compromise and -do it quick; if she ain't, fight, and fight like h——." Wyatt -stopped and shot an apologetic glance around the -table. "'Scuse my French," he blurted, "but you know -what I mean."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said the minister, holding his head very -straight, "I realize that you do not mean to insult me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Insult you?" argued the Deputy, overflowing with -satisfied amiability. "After coming over here to arrest -you, and you givin' me a dinner like this? Pie like this? -Well, I guess not. I'm bribed, Doc, that's what I am. -I got to go in that room with you when you see the old -lady; but I'll hold my thumbs in my ears, and I won't -see a d—— there I go again." Once more Wyatt's -apologetic look swept around the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Burbeck is in the study," announced the maid.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-angel-advises"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXIX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE ANGEL ADVISES</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Because locomotion was not easy for her, it was to -have been expected that the conferences between John -Hampstead and Mrs. Burbeck, which, especially in the -early days of his pastorate, had been so many, would take -place in that lady's home; and they usually did. But as -time went on, her own independence of spirit and -increased consideration for the minister led Mrs. Burbeck -frequently to prefer to come to him. To make this easy, -two planks had been laid to form a simple runway to the -stoop at the study door. When, therefore, the minister -entered his library to-night, closely followed by Wyatt, he -found that good woman waiting in the wheel chair beside -his desk. The object of her call showed instantly in an -expression of boundless and tender solicitude; and yet the -clergyman immediately forgot himself in a -conscience-stricken concern for his visitor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You should not have come," he exclaimed quickly, -sympathy and mild reproach mingling, while a devotion -like that of a son for a mother was conveyed in his tone -and glance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Truly, Mrs. Burbeck had never looked so frail. All -but the faintest glow of color had gone from her cheeks; -her eyes were bright, but with a luster that seemed -unearthly, and her skin had a transparent, wax-like look that -to the clergyman was alarmingly suggestive, as if the pale -bloom of another world were upon her cheeks, which a -single breath must wither.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Making these observations swiftly as his stride carried -him to her, the minister, speaking in that rich baritone of -melting tenderness which was one of Hampstead's most -charming personal assets, concluded with: "You are not -well. You are not at all well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes," the Angel answered, "I am well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Although she spoke in a voice that appeared to be thin -to the point of breaking, her tone was even, and her senses -proclaimed their alertness by allowing her eyes to wander -from the face of the minister and fix themselves inquiringly -over his shoulder on the unembarrassed, stolid man -at the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell her not to mind me, Doc," interjected Wyatt in a -stuffy voice. At the same time an exploratory thumb -brought up a quill from a vest pocket, and the deputy -began with entire assurance the after-dinner toilet of his -teeth, while his eyes roamed the ceiling and the tops of -the bookcases as if suddenly oblivious of the presence of -other persons in the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said the minister reassuringly, "we will not be -disturbed by Mr. Wyatt's presence. He is merely doing -his duty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are—?" Mrs. Burbeck hesitated with an upward -inflection, and the disagreeable word unuttered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," replied the minister gravely, his inflection -falling where hers had risen. "I am."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, that woman! That woman!" murmured Mrs. Burbeck, -"I have mistrusted her and been sorry for her -all at once. But it was Rollie that I feared for."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a sigh of relief that was as near to an exhibition -of selfishness as Mrs. Burbeck had ever approached; -after which, mother-like, she lapsed into a rhapsody over -her son.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rollie," she began, in doting accents, "is so young, so -handsome, so responsive to beauty of any sort; so ready to -believe the best of every one. I feared that he would fall -in love with her and ruin his business career—you know -how these theatrical marriages always turn out—or that -she would jilt him and break his heart. Rollie has such a -sensitive, expansive nature. He has always been trusted -so widely by so many people. Since that boy has grown -up, I have lived my whole life in him. Do you know," -and she leaned forward and lowered her voice to an -impressive and exceedingly intimate note; "it seems to me -that if anything should happen to Rollie, it would crush -me, that I should not care to live,—in fact should not be -able to live."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tears came readily to the limpid pools of her eyes, and -the delicately chiseled lips trembled, though they bravely -tried to smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead sat regarding her thoughtfully, love and -apprehension mingling upon his face. It suddenly -reoccurred to him with compelling force that the most awful -cruelty that could be inflicted would be for this delicate -and fragile woman, who to-night looked more like an -ambassadress from some other existence than a thing of -flesh and blood, to know the truth about her son. Seeing -her thus smiling trustfully through her mother-tears, -thinking of all that her sweet, saint-like confidences had -meant to him, Hampstead felt a mighty resolve growing -stronger and stronger within him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But for once Mrs. Burbeck's intuitions were not sure, -and she misconstrued the meaning of her pastor's silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Forgive me," she pleaded in tones of self-reproach. -"Here I am in the midst of your trouble babbling of -myself and my son. Yet that is like a mother. She never -sees a young man's career blighted but she grows -suddenly apprehensive for the child of her own bosom. -Now that feeling comes to me with double force. I love -you almost as a son. Consequently, when I see my boy -out there in the sun of life mounting so buoyantly, and -you, so worthy to mount, but struggling in mid-flight -under a cloud, I feel a mingling of two painful emotions. -I suffer as if struck upon the heart. My spirit of -sympathy and apprehension rushes me to you, yet when I get -to you, my doting mother's heart makes me babble first of -my boy. And so," she concluded, with an apologetic -smile, "you see how weak and frail and egotistic I am, -after all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," protested Hampstead, who had been eager to -break in, "my career is not blighted. I am not under a -cloud. It annoyed me to-night upon the boat and train -to discover how suddenly I was pilloried by my enemies -and avoided by my friends. They seem to take it for -granted that I am already smirched; that to me the subject -must be painful, and as there is no other subject to be -thought of at the moment, hence conversation will also be -painful. Because of this I am a pariah, to be shunned -like any leper."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With rising feeling, the young minister snatched a -breath and hurried on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Mrs. Burbeck, I do not feel like that at all. I -have put myself in the way of sustaining this attack -through following the course of duty, as I conceived it. -I need not assure you that I am innocent of a vulgar thing -like burglary. I need not assure the public. It is -impossible that they should believe it. Nevertheless, I have -seen enough in the papers to-night to show how they will -revel at seeing me enmeshed in the toils of circumstance. -To them it is a rare spectacle. Very well, let it be a -spectacle. It is one in which I shall triumph. I propose -to fight. I feel like fighting." His fist was clenched and -came down upon the arm of his chair, and his voice, -though still low, was full of vibrant power.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I feel that I have the right to call upon every friend, -upon every member of All People's, upon every believer in -those things for which I have fought in this community, -to rally to my side to fight shoulder to shoulder in the -battle to repel what in effect is an assault not upon me, -but upon the things for which I stand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Burbeck's expressive eyes were floating full with a -look that verged from sympathy toward pity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will have to be a very expert tactician," she said -soberly, drawing on those fountains of ripe wisdom, so -full at times that they seemed to mount toward -inspiration; "if you are to make the public think of your -embarrassment in that way. It is going to look at this as a -disgraceful personal entanglement of a minister with an -actress!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead writhed in his chair. Nothing but the -depth of his consideration for Mrs. Burbeck kept him -from exclaiming vehemently against what he deemed the -enormous injustice of this assumption.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She's right, Doc; right's your left leg," sounded a -throaty voice, which startled the two of them into -remembering that they were not alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Wyatt!" exclaimed the minister reprovingly, -turning sharply on the deputy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Excuse me, Doc," Wyatt mumbled abjectly. "I just -thought that out loud. All the same, she's wisin' you up -to somethin' if you'll let 'er. Some of these old dames -that ain't got nothin' to do but just set and think gets hep -to a lot of things that a hustlin' man overlooks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead was disgusted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't interrupt us again, please, Wyatt," he observed, -combining dignity and rebuke in his utterance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Wyatt, influenced no doubt by the look almost of -fright on Mrs. Burbeck's face, was already in apologetic -mood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Say," he mumbled contritely, "you're right, Doc. -I'm so sorry for the break that, orders or no orders, I'll -just step out in the hall while you finish. But all the -same, you listen to her," and he indicated the disturbed -and slightly offended Mrs. Burbeck with a stab of a -toothpick in the air, "and she'll tell you somethin' that's -useful."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you very much, Wyatt," replied the minister -in noncommittal tones, but with a sigh of relief as the -deputy withdrew from the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet he had a growing sense of depression. Wyatt's -boorish, croaking interruption had thrown him out of -poise. Mrs. Burbeck's exaggerated sense of the gravity -of the matter weighed him down like lead, and the more -because an inner voice, sounding faintly and from far -away, but with significance unmistakable, seemed to tell -him her view was right. Nevertheless, his whole soul -rose in protest. It ought not to be right. It was a gross -travesty on justice and on popular good sense.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Burbeck, looking at him fixedly, noted this -change in spirit and the conflict of emotions which -resulted. Reaching out impulsively, she touched the large -hand of the man where it lay upon the desk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I feared you would take it too lightly," she reflected. -"Youth always does that. For this world about you to -turn and gnash you is mere human nature, which it is your -business to understand. Has it never occurred to you -that the same voices who upon Sunday cried out: -'Hosannah, Hosannah to the son of David!' upon Friday -shouted: 'Away with him! Crucify him! Crucify him!'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I am innocent," Hampstead protested, though weakly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And so was He," Mrs. Burbeck replied simply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But He was worthy to suffer. I am not," murmured -Hampstead humbly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sometimes," suggested the sweet-voiced woman, -"suffering makes us worthy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," affirmed the minister, his fighting spirit coming -back to him, "I can prove my innocence!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The face of Mrs. Burbeck lighted. "Then you must," -she said decisively. "You give me hope when you say -that. It was to tell you that I came, fearful that you -would rely upon the public to assume your innocence until -your guilt was proven. Alas, they are more likely to -assume the contrary, to hold you guilty until you prove -yourself innocent."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been made to see that already," replied -Hampstead. "At first, no doubt, I did underestimate the -gravity of the situation. You have helped me to appraise -its dangers more accurately."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Mrs. Burbeck had more important advice to give.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," she went on half-musingly, because tactfulness -appeared to suggest that form of utterance, "you will -have to vindicate yourself absolutely. It is a practical -situation. The danger is not that you will be convicted -and sent to jail. Nobody believes that, I should say. -The danger is that a question-mark will be permanently -attached to your name and character. The Reverend -John Hampstead, interrogation point! Is he a thief, or -not? Did he compromise himself, or not? Is he weak, -or not? This is the thing to fear, the thing that would -condemn you and brand you as stripes brand a convict."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a tense, reflective moment the minister's lips had -grown dry and bloodless; and then he confessed grudgingly: -"I begin to see that you are right."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You should begin your defense by a counter-attack," -Mrs. Burbeck continued, feeling that the man was -sufficiently aroused now to appreciate the importance of -vigorous defensive actions. "Declare your disbelief that the -diamonds have actually been stolen. Get out a warrant of -search, and you will probably find them now concealed -among her effects. At any rate this counter-search would -hold the public verdict in suspense; and it would be like -your well-known aggressive personality. If the search -fails to reveal them, if her diamonds really are stolen, -your complete vindication must depend upon the capture -and exposure of the real thief."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead wiped his moist brow nervously. It was -uncannily terrible that this woman of all persons in the -world should say this to him. However, he had -sufficient presence of mind to urge:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But how unjust to force a contract like that upon me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is unjust," admitted the Angel of the Chair. -"Yet the innocent often suffer injustice, and you must -realize that you are not immune. That is your only -course, and I came specifically to warn you of it. Prove -there was no theft, or get the thief!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was snap and sparkle in Mrs. Burbeck's eyes. -Despite her physical frailty, her spirit was stout, and her -conviction so forcefully conveyed that the minister -delivered himself of a gesture of utter helplessness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I cannot do either," he said, half-whispering his -desperation. "Yet I think I appreciate better than you -how sound your advice has been. But there are reasons -that I cannot give you, that I cannot give to any one, why -the course which you suggest cannot be followed. I must -go another way to vindication; but," and his voice rose -buoyantly, "I will go and I will get it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Burbeck received with misgivings her pastor's -complete rejection of the advice she had offered, yet some -unconscious force in the young minister's manner swept -her on quickly against her judgment and her will to an -enormous increase of faith, both in the strength and the -judgment of the man. As for Hampstead, he concluded -his rejection by doing something he had never done -before. That was to lean low, his face chiseled in lines of -gravity and devotion, and taking the delicate hand of -Mrs. Burbeck, that in its weakness was like a drooping flower, -lift it to his lips and kiss it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Conserve all your spirit," he said solemnly, still clinging -tenderly to the hand. "It may be that I shall have to -lean heavily upon you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You may have my life to the uttermost," she breathed -trustfully, never dreaming the thought unthinkable which -the words suggested to her pastor and friend. But an -extraneous idea came pressing in, and Mrs. Burbeck -raised toward the minister, in a gesture of appeal, the -hand his lips had just been pressing, as she pleaded: -"And do not think too hardly of the woman. She loves you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Loves me!" protested Hampstead, with a ghastly -hoarseness. "The woman is incapable of love—of -passion even. She is all fire, but without heat—though -once she had it. She is a mere blaze of ambition. All -she cared for was to bring me to my knees, to dangle me -like a scalp at her waist."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Burbeck steadied him with a glance from a mind -unimpressed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Be sorry, very sorry for her!" she insisted gravely. -"Acquit yourself of no impatience—not even a reproachful -look, if you can help it. She is to be pitied. Only -the malice of unsated love could do what she has done. -Show yourself noble enough, Christ-like enough, to be -very, very sorry for her!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">We got to go if we get there by nine!</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the smothered voice of Wyatt, calling through -the door.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-scene-in-the-vault"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE SCENE IN THE VAULT</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Silas Wadham, mine-owner; William Hayes, merchant, -and E. H. Wilson, capitalist, subscribed to Hampstead's -bond. Each was a big man in his way; each had -unbounded faith in the integrity and good sense of the -minister. They were not men to be swept off their feet -by mere surface currents. They laughed a little and -rallied John upon his plight, yet he knew somehow by the -bend of the jaw when they dipped their pens in ink and -with clamped lips subscribed their signatures, that these -men were his unshakably.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One circumstance might have seemed strange. None -of them were members of All People's. Yet this was not -because there were not men in All People's who would -have qualified as unhesitatingly; but because John had a -feeling that he was being assailed as a community -character rather than as a clerical one.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Within ten minutes the formalities in Judge Brennan's -chamber were concluded, Hampstead was free, but as he -turned to Searle waiting suavely, backed by the suggestive -presence of the two detectives, there came suddenly into -his mind the memory that Rollie Burbeck's I.O.U. for -eleven hundred dollars was in his safe deposit box in the -envelope marked "Wadham Currency." This was a -chaos-producing thought. If Searle once got an eye on -that card, it would start innumerable trains of suspicion, -each of which must center on the young bank cashier. In -his present state, that boy was too weak to resist -pressure of any sort. He would crumble and go to pieces, -And yet, it was not the thought of the exposure and ruin -of this spoiled young man that moved Hampstead to -another of those acts which only riveted the chains of -suspicion more tightly upon himself. It was the vision of -the mother who only an hour before had murmured -tremulously: "If anything should happen to him, I -should not be able to live."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Searle!" exclaimed the minister passionately. "You -must not proceed with this. If you are a man of any -heart, you will not persist against my pleadings. I tell -you frankly there are secrets in that box which, while they -would do you no good, could be used to ruin innocent -men—guilty ones, too, perhaps; but the innocent with the -guilty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead was speaking hoarsely, his voice raised and -trembling with an excitement and lack of nerve control -he had never exhibited before in public.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The prosecutor's face pictured surprise and even -gloating, but his eyes expressed a purpose unshaken.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Confidences in my possession must be respected," -Hampstead went on, arguing vehemently. "The confidences -of a patient to his physician, of a penitent to his -priest, are respected by the law. Because some of these -confidences happen to be in writing, you have no right to -violate them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I tell you I have no intention to violate them," -Searle returned testily. "My order is a warrant of -search for a diamond necklace."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I tell you I will not respect the order of the -court," blazed the minister. "You shall not examine the -box!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Judge Mortimer was startled; the bondsmen, although -surprised by the minister's show of feeling, were -sympathetic.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not care whether you consent or not," Searle -rejoined sarcastically. "I have the key, and I have the -order of court, which the vault custodian must respect. I -have done you the courtesy to meet you here so that you -might be present when the box was examined. You must -be beside yourself to suppose that I can be swayed from -my duty, even temporarily, by an appeal like this."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think, Doctor, you should have the advice of your -attorney on this," suggested Mr. Wilson considerately; -and then turning to the Assistant District Attorney, -observed sharply: "It seems to me, Searle, that this is -rather a high-handed procedure."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But this remark of the practical Mr. Wilson had an -instantly calming effect upon the minister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no," Hampstead exclaimed, turning to his friend; -"I do not want an attorney. I do not need an attorney. -I should only be misunderstood. It is the thought of -what might result to innocent people through an -examination of this box that stirs me so deeply."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All the same, I think we had better have an attorney -immediately," declared Wilson. "I can send my car for -Bowen and have him here in fifteen minutes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An attorney," commented Searle brusquely, "could do -nothing except to get an order from a Superior Court -judge enjoining the bank from obeying the search warrant -of this court. He would be lucky if, at this time of -night, he caught a judge and got that under two or three -hours. I will be in that box in five minutes. Come -along, if you want to."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Searle moved toward the door, followed by the two -detectives, his purpose perfectly plain; yet the minister hung -back, for the first time so confused by entangling -developments that he could not see where to put his foot down -next.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think, Doctor Hampstead," advised Mr. Wadham -kindly, "that since the District Attorney has matters in -his own hands, you had better go with him and witness the -search. If you do not object, we shall be glad to -accompany you. Our presence may prove helpful later."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Because his mind ran forward in an absorbed attempt to -forecast and forestall the probable developments from the -impending discovery of the clue against Rollie, the minister -still paused, until his silence became as conspicuous as -his inaction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, yes," he exclaimed, suddenly aware of the -waiting group about him. "Yes, by all means, go with -me. What we must face, we must face," he concluded -desperately, with an uneasy inner intimation that he was -saying perhaps the wrong thing. Yet with the vision of -Mrs. Burbeck's saintly, smiling face before him, Hampstead, -usually so calm and self-controlled, had little care -what he said or how he said it so long as his mind was -busy with some plan to fend off this frightful blow from -her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Wadham was a man of mature years and fatherly -ways. He took the young minister's arm affectionately in -his, and urged him forward in the wake of Searle, who -had already moved out into the wide hall accompanied -by the two plain-clothes men. Hayes and Wilson, still -sympathetic, but no longer quite comprehending the undue -excitement of the young divine in whose integrity their -confidence was so great, fell in behind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once before the custodian of the vault, another evidence -of the thoughtfulness of Searle appeared. John R. Costello, -attorney of the bank, was conveniently on hand to -read the warrant of the court and to instruct the custodian -of the vault upon whom it was served that it was in proper -form and must be obeyed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Because the number of witnesses was too large to be -accommodated in the rooms provided for customers, the -inspection of the minister's box was made upon a table in -the vault room itself. In the group of onlookers, -Hampstead, because of his commanding figure, his remarkable -face, and his very natural interest in the proceedings, was -the most conspicuous presence. As naturally as all eyes -centered on the box, just so they kept breaking away at -intervals to scan the face of the big man who stood before -them in an attitude of embarrassed helplessness. He was -obviously making a considerable effort to control himself. -Only Searle was sure that he understood this. But at the -same moment, two of the bondsmen, the kind-hearted -Wadham and the shrewd, practical Wilson, appeared to -observe this attitude and to detect its significance. They -exchanged questioning glances, and were further mystified -when for a single moment a look of confident reassurance -flickered like the play of a sunbeam upon the face of the -minister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was in his one selfish moment, when he recalled -how the search of the box, after all these excessive -precautions of the District Attorney's office, could only recoil -upon their case like a boomerang; but his countenance -shaded again to an expression of anxious helplessness as -Searle paused dramatically a moment with his hand upon -the box. Then the hand lifted the hinged cover, -revealing the contents.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As if from a nervous eagerness to come quickly at the -object of his search, the Assistant District Attorney turned -the box upside down and emptied its contents on the table; -and yet, when this was done, nothing appeared but papers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Searle attempted to open none of them. Proceeding -with deliberate care, as if to vindicate himself in the eyes -of the bondsmen from the suspicion of the minister that he -might be on a "fishing expedition", he merely took up -each piece singly and precisely, felt it over with his long, -thin fingers and laid it by, until at length but two envelopes -remained. The first of these was long and empty looking -and gave evidence that the flap had been rudely, if not -hastily, torn open. Searle held it in his hand now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead's heart stood still; he knew that this must -be the envelope which had contained the Wadham currency, -hence between this attorney's thumb and forefinger, -screened by one thickness of paper, lay the card that was -the clue to Rollie Burbeck's crime. But the moment of -suspense passed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Submitting it to the same inquisitive finger manipulation -as the others, yet not looking within it nor turning it -over to read what might be written on the face, Searle -laid the Wadham envelope on the pile of discards.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank God," gulped Hampstead, yet with utterance -so inchoate that Hayes, the third bondsman, standing -nearest, did not catch the words, but a few minutes later, -discussing the matter with Wilson, said: "I heard the -apprehensive rattle in his throat just before Searle came -to that last envelope."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But in the meantime, Hampstead was asking himself -suspiciously what was this last envelope? He thought -he knew by heart every separate document that was in the -box, and he could not recall what this might be.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must be convinced by now," argued Searle, as if -deliberately heightening the suspense, while he turned a -straight glance upon the minister, "that I had no object -in inspecting the contents of this box except to search for -the diamonds."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you have not found them!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was obviously the remark which should have come -in triumphant, challenging tones from the minister. As -a matter of fact, it came quietly, and with a sigh of relief, -from Silas Wadham.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister did not speak at all, did not even raise his -eyes to meet the glance of Searle. His gaze was fixed as -his mind was fascinated by the mystery of the last lone -envelope.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not yet," replied Searle significantly to Wadham's -interjection, but instead of disappointment there was that -quality in his tones which heightens and intensifies -expectancy. At the same time he took up the envelope by -one end, but, under the weight of something within, the -paper bent surprisingly in the middle and the lower end -swung pendant and baglike, accompanied by the slightest -perceptible metallic sound. Every member of the group -of witnesses leaned forward with an involuntary start. -Triumph flooded the face of Searle. With his left hand -he seized the heavy, bag-like end and raised it while the -envelope was turned in his fingers bringing into view the -printing in the corner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This envelope bears the name and address of the -Reverend John Hampstead," he announced in formal -tones. "I now open it in your presence."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nervously the Assistant District Attorney tore off the -end of the envelope, squinted within, and exclaimed: "It -contains—" His voice halted for an instant while he -dramatically tipped the envelope toward the table and a -string of fire flowed out and lay quivering before the eyes -of all—"the Dounay diamonds!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The jewels, trembling under the impulse of the -movement by which they had been deposited upon the table, -sparkled as if with resentful brilliance at having been thus -darkly immured, and for an appreciable interval they -compelled the attention of all; then every eye was turned upon -the accused minister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But these inquisitorial glances came too late. Amazement, -bewilderment, a sense of outrage, and hot indignation, -had been reeled across the screen of his features; -but that was in the ticking seconds while the gaze of all -was on the envelope and then upon the diamonds and their -aggressive scintillations. Now the curious eyes rested -upon a man who, after a moment in which to think, had -visioned himself surrounded and overwhelmed by -circumstances that were absolutely damning,—his own conduct -of the last few minutes the most damning of all. His -face was as white as the paper of the envelope which -contained the irrefutable evidence. His eyes revolved -uncertainly and then went questioningly from face to face in -the circle round him as if for confirmation of the -conclusion to which the logic of his own mind forced him -irresistibly. In not one was that confirmation wanting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," he protested wildly, and then his glance broke -down. "It has come," he murmured hoarsely, covering -his face with his hands. "It has come!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His cross had come!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some odd, disastrous chain of sequences which he had -not yet had time to reason out had fixed this crime on -him. By another equally disastrous chain of sequences, -he must bear its guilt or be false to his confessor's vow. -Especially must he bear it, if he would shield that doting -mother who trusted him and loved him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As if to hold himself together, he clasped his arms -before him, and his chin sunk forward on his breast. As if -to accustom his mind to the new view from which he must -look out upon the world, he closed his eyes. The heaving -chest, the tense jaws, the quivering lips, and the mop of -hair that fell disheveled round his temples, all combined to -make up the convincing picture of a strong man breaking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not one of those present, crass or sympathetic, but felt -himself the witness to a tragedy in which a man of noble -aspirations had been overtaken and hopelessly crushed by -an ingrained weakness which had expressed itself in sordid -crime.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Even the hard face of Searle softened. With the -diamonds gleaming where they lay, he began mechanically to -replace the contents of the box. But at the first sound of -rustling papers, the minister appeared to rouse again. He -had stood all alone. No one had touched him. No one -had addressed him. The most indifferent in this circle -were stricken dumb by the spectacle of his fall, while his -friends were almost as much appalled and dazed as he -himself appeared to be.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose," he said with melancholy interest, at the -same time moving round the table to the box, "that I may -take it now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly, Doctor," replied Searle suavely, yielding -his place. Nevertheless, there was a slight expression of -surprise upon his face, as upon those of the others, at the -minister's sudden revival of concern in what must now -be an utterly trifling detail so far as his own future went. -Hampstead appeared to perceive this.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There are sacred responsibilities here," he explained -gravely, with a halting utterance that proclaimed the deeps -that heaved within him; "which, strange as it may seem to -you gentlemen, even at such an hour I would not like to -forget."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Taking up a handful of the papers, he ran them through -his fingers, his eye pausing for a moment to scan each one -of them, and his expression kindling with first one memory -and then another, as if he found a mournful satisfaction -in recalling past days when many a man and woman had -found peace for their souls in making him the sharer in -their heart-burdens,—days which every member of that -little circle felt instinctively were now gone forever.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Last of all his eye checked itself upon the envelope -marked "Wadham Currency." Allowing the other -papers to slip back to their place in the box the minister -turned his glance into the open side of this remaining -envelope. It was empty, save for a card tucked in the -corner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This thing appears to have served its purpose," he -commented absently, as if talking to himself. Then -casually he tore the envelope across, and then again and again; -finer and finer; yet not so fine as to excite suspicion. -Looking for a wastebasket and finding none, he was about -to drop the fragments in his coat pocket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will take them," said the vault custodian, holding out -his hand. To it the minister unhesitatingly committed the -shredded envelope and card which contained the only -documentary clue to any other person than himself as the -thief of the Dounay diamonds. A few minutes later, this -clue was in the wastebasket outside. The next morning it -was in the furnace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The group in the vault room broke away with dispirited -slowness, as mourners turn from the freshly heaped -earth. Behind all the minister lingered, as if unwilling to -leave the presence of his dead reputation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the man's appearance somewhat belied his mood. -He was thinking swiftly. This was no uncommon plot -which had overtaken him. It was conceived in craft and -laid with power to kill. The diabolical cunning of the -scheme was that it forced him to be silent or to be a traitor. -The indications were that he had been betrayed outrageously; -but he did not know this positively, therefore -he could venture no defense at all against this black array -of circumstances. It might be only some terrible mistake, -and for him to venture more now than the most general -denial might bring about the very calamities he was trying -to avert. He dared not even tell the truth: that he did -not know the diamonds were in the box. Especially, he -dared not say that he did not put them there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For the first time an emotion like fear entered his soul, -but it passed the moment the priestly ardor in him saw -which way his duty lay. If Rollie had grossly sold him -into the power of the actress at the price of his own -escape, he felt more sorry for the poor wretch than before. -He was glad that he had destroyed the I.O.U., discovery -of which might have incriminated the young man helplessly, -and he resolved to continue upon his mission as a -saviour, even though he himself were lost. It suddenly -occurred to him with doubling force that this was what it -meant to be a saviour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With this conviction firmly in his mind, Hampstead -turned to Wilson, Wadham, and Hayes, who had been -waiting in considerate silence, and led the way upward to -the dimly lighted lobby of the bank, feeling himself grow -stronger with every step he mounted; for the maze of -complexities in which he found himself had quickly reduced -itself to the simple duty of being true to trust. Eternal -Loyalty was again to be the price of success.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As his friends gathered about him on the upper floor for -a word of conference, they were astonished at the change -in his expression. It was calm and even confident; while -a kind of spiritual radiance suffused his features.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My friends," the minister began in an even voice, that -nevertheless was full of the echo of deep feeling, "I can -offer you no explanation of the scene to which you have -just been witnesses. It is almost inevitable that you -should think me guilty or criminally culpable. I am -neither!" The affirmation was made as if to acquit his -conscience, rather than as if to be expected to be believed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," and his utterance became incisive, "there is -nothing to that effect which can be said now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Something had better be said now," blurted out the -practical Wilson flatly, "or this story in the morning -papers will damn you as black as tar."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not one word," declared the minister with quiet -emphasis, "can be spoken now!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In Hampstead's bearing there was a notable return of -that subtle power of man mastery which had been so -important an element in his success. Before this even the -aggressive, outspoken Wilson was silent; but the three -men stood regarding John with an air at once sympathetic -and doubtful. They were also expectant, for it was -evident from the minister's manner that he was deliberating -whether he might not take them at least a little way into -his confidence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Only this much I can indicate," he volunteered -presently. "A part of what has happened I understand very -clearly. A part I do not understand at all. In the -meantime, some one, but not myself, is in jeopardy. Until the -confusion is cleared, or until I can see better what to do -than I see now, I can do nothing but rest under the -circumstances which you have seen enmesh me to-night. Of -course, it is impossible that such a monstrous injustice -can long continue. I hold the power to clear myself -instantly, but it is a power I cannot use without -violating the most sacred obligation a minister can assume. -I will not violate it. I must insist that not one single word -which I have just hinted to you be given to the public. -Silence, absolute and unwavering silence, is the course -which is forced upon me and upon every friend who would -be true to me, as I shall seek to be true to my duty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The three friends heard this declaration rather -helplessly. In the presence of such a lofty spirit of -self-immolation, what were mere men like themselves to say, -or do? Obviously nothing, except to look the reverence -and wonder which they felt and to bow tacitly to his will. -Hampstead knew instinctively and without one word of -assurance that these men, at first overwhelmingly -convinced of his guilt by what they had seen, and then -bewildered by his manner, now believed in him absolutely. -It put him at ease with them and gave him assurance to add:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know that not one of you is a man to desert a friend -in the hour of his extremity, and no matter what happens -I believe your faith in me will not falter. You will -understand my wish to thank you for what you have done and -may do, and to say good-by for to-night. My burning -desire now is to get by myself and try to comprehend what -has happened and what may yet happen before this -miserable business is concluded."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Cordially taking the hand of each, while the men one -after another responded with fervent expressions of faith -and confidence, the minister turned quickly upon his heel, -crossed the street, and leaped lightly upon a passing car.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Silence! Silence! Unwavering silence! The car -wheels seemed to beat this injunction up to him with every -revolution. Silence for the sake of others, some of whom -were supremely worthy, one at least of whom might be -wretchedly unworthy! Above all, silence for the sake of -his vow as a vicar of Christ on earth. What was it to be a -Christian if not to be a miniature Christ,—a poor, -stumbling, tottering, stained and far-off pattern of the mighty -archetype of human goodness and perfection? According -to his strength, he, John Hampstead, was to be -permitted to suffer as a saviour of a very small part of -mankind and in a very temporary and no doubt in a very -inadequate way, the virtue of which should lie in the fact -that it pointed beyond himself to the one saviour who was -supremely able. He, too, must be "dumb before his -shearers", not stubbornly, not guiltily, and not spectacularly, -but faithfully and for a worth-while purpose,—the -saving of a man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a change had come swiftly in the relative -importance of the motives which determined his course. With -the actual coming of his cross, he had caught a loftier -vision. It was not to save the few remaining weeks or -months or years of the life of a saintly and beautiful -woman that he was to stand silent even to trial, -conviction, and disgrace. It was to save the soul of a man, a -wretched, vain, ornamental and unutilitarian sort of -person, but none the less unusually gifted in many of his -faculties, perhaps wanting only an experience like this to -precipitate the better elements in his nature into the -foundation of such a character as his mother believed him -to possess.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This change of emphasis strengthened Hampstead -enormously. It gave him calm and resolution, increasing -self-control and fortitude, a dignity of bearing that -promised at least to remain unbroken, and a sense of the -presence of the Presence which it seemed could not depart -from him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When John reached home, he found Rose, Dick, and -Tayna waiting anxiously. A sight of his face, with the -new strength and dignity upon it, allayed their apprehension, -but the solemnity of manner in which he gathered -them about him in the study roused their fears again. -Briefly he related how the diamonds had been discovered -in his safe deposit vault. Sternly but kindly he repressed -the hot outburst of Dick; sympathetically he tried to stem -the tears of Tayna, but before the pale face and the dry, -fixed eyes of Rose he stood a moment, mute and hesitant, -then said with tender brotherliness:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Old girl, in the silence of waiting for my vindication, -it is going to be easier for you and the children to trust -me than for others. But even for you it will be hard. -Others can withdraw from me, can wash their hands of -me; and they may do it. You cannot, and would not if -you could."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rose clasped her brother's hand in silent assurance; but -Hampstead went on with saddened voice to portray what -was to be expected.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will all have to bear the shame with me. In fact, -my shame will be yours. You, Rose, will be pointed out -upon the street as my sister. Tayna, at school -to-morrow, may encounter fewer smiles and some eyes that -refuse to meet hers. Dick will have some hurts to bear -among his fellows, for he has been loyally and perhaps -boastfully proud of me. I have only this to ask, that you -will each walk with head up and unafraid, with no attempt -at apology nor justification, and with no unkind word for -those who in act or judgment seem unkind to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The feeling that they were to be honored with bearing -a part of the burden of the big man whom they loved so -deeply stirred the emotions of the little group almost -beyond control. Dick moved first, clutching his uncle's -hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You bet your life!" he blurted, then turned and bolted -from the room. Tayna next flung her arms about her -uncle's neck and wet his cheek with scalding tears, then -dashed away after Dick. Last of all, Rose stood with her -hands upon his shoulders. She was taller for a woman -than he for a man, and could look almost level into his -eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My brother!" she said significantly. "My strong, -noble, innocent"—and then a gleam of light shot into her -eyes as she added—"my triumphant brother!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My bravest, truest of sisters!" The big man -breathed softly, and drawing the woman to him imprinted -that kiss upon the forehead which, seldom bestowed, -marked when given his genuine tribute of respect and -affection to the woman who, older than himself by ten -years, had been the mother to his orphaned youth and had -created the obligation which, uncharged, he none the less -acknowledged and had striven to repay by a life of -conscientious devotion to her and to her children.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The door closed after her "Good night", and John -stood alone glancing reflectively about the long, book-lined -room. Here many of his greatest experiences had come -to him. Here he had caught the far-off kindling visions -of that rarely human Galilean, with his rarely human -group about him, trudging over the hills, sitting by the -side of the sea, teaching, healing, helping. Here he had -caught the vision of himself following, afar off, two -thousand years behind, but following—teaching, healing, -helping—in His name.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The telephone rang, its sharp, metallic jingle shocking -the very atmosphere into apprehensive tremors. Yet -instantly recalled to himself and to the new height on which -he stood, Hampstead lifted the receiver with a firm hand -and replied in an even, measured voice: "</span><em class="italics">The -Sentinel</em><span>?—Yes—Yes—No—There is nothing to -say—Absolutely!—I do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The receiver was hung up. The only change in -Hampstead's voice from the beginning to the end of this -conversation, the larger part of which had taken place upon -the other end of the line, was a deepening gravity of -utterance. In a few moments the 'phone rang again. It was -</span><em class="italics">The Press</em><span>. The papers all had the story now. The -Oakland offices of the San Francisco papers were also -clamoring. Each wanted to know what the minister had to say -to the damning discovery of the diamonds in his box.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For them all Hampstead had the same answer: "I -have nothing to say—yet." Some of the inquisitors -cleverly attempted to draw the clergyman out by suggesting -that there was plenty of opportunity for a countercharge -that the diamonds had been planted in his box, -since it was improbable in the last degree that a man of -ordinary intelligence would conceal stolen diamonds in a -safe deposit box held in his own name, the key to which he -carried in his own pocket; but the self-controlled man at -the other end of the telephone fell into no such trap. To -direct attention to an inquiry as to who had visited his -vault, or might have visited it, during the time since the -diamonds were stolen was the last thing the minister would -do. Already he had reasoned that the vault custodian on -duty in the morning, knowing that Hampstead had not -been to the vault during the day, but that Assistant Cashier -Burbeck had, would do some excogitating upon his own -account; but the minister reflected that this would not -be dangerous, since the custodian, sharing in the very -great confidence which Rollie enjoyed, would conclude -that this young man had been made the innocent messenger -for depositing the diamonds in the vault, and for the sake -of unpleasant consequences which might result to the -bank, would no doubt keep his mouth tightly shut.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The last call of all came from Haggard, whose city -editor had just told him that the minister declined any -sort of an explanation. Haggard was managing editor -of </span><em class="italics">The Press</em><span> and Hampstead's true friend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know what this does to your friends?" -demanded Haggard passionately. "It makes them as dumb -as you are. I know you; you've got something up your -sleeve. But this case isn't going to be tried in the courts. -It's being tried in the newspapers right now. Once the -court of public opinion goes against you, it's hard to get -a reversal. And it's going against you from the minute -this story gets before the public—our version of it -even—for we have got to print the news, you know. We've -never had bigger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some sort of a protest gurgled from Hampstead's lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh," broke out Haggard still more impatiently, "I -think the majority have too much sense to believe you're -a common thief; but they're going to be convinced you're -a damned fool. A public man had better be found guilty -of being a thief than an ass, any day. Now, what can I say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am very sorry," replied Hampstead in a patient -voice, "but you can say nothing—absolutely nothing."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-misadventure"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXXI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A MISADVENTURE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Counting back from the scene in the vault room of -the Amalgamated National, which took place at about -nine-thirty, it was five and one-half hours to the time -when Marien Dounay and Rollie Burbeck had steamed -out with Mrs. Harrington upon her luxurious launch, the -</span><em class="italics">Black Swan</em><span>, which was so commodious and powerful that -it just escaped being a sea-going yacht.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But now, after the lapse of this five and one-half -hours, neither Marien nor Rollie had returned, and only -one of them had an inkling of what might have been -happening in their absence. Information from the -Harrington residence that the </span><em class="italics">Black Swan</em><span> would return to the -pier about ten-thirty, caused a group of hopeful young -men from the newspaper offices to take up their station -on the yacht pier slightly in advance of that hour. But -their wait was long, so long in fact that one by one they -gave up their vigil and returned to their respective offices -with no answer as yet to the burning question of what -had led Miss Dounay to suspect that her diamonds were -in the minister's safe deposit vault. But the distress and -disappointment of the reporters was nothing like so great -as the distress and disappointment upon the </span><em class="italics">Black Swan</em><span>, -although for a very different reason.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The evening with Mrs. Harrington and her guests had -begun pleasantly enough. The party itself was a jolly -one, and so far as might be judged from outward -appearances, Miss Marien Dounay was quite the jolliest of -all; excepting perhaps Mrs. Harrington herself who was -elated over the unexpected appearance of the actress; and -Rollie, over its effect in immediately restoring him to the -lost favor of his hostess. As many times as it was -demanded, Miss Dounay told and retold the story of the -loss of her jewels. She was the recipient of much -sympathy and of many compliments because of the admirable -fortitude with which she endured her loss.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie thought Miss Dounay appeared able to dispense -with the sympathy, but perceived that she greatly enjoyed -the compliments. That she should keep the company in -ignorance that her diamonds were to be recovered and -continue to enact the rôle of the heroine who had been -cruelly robbed of her chief possession, did not even -surprise him. It was her affair entirely since she had bound -him to secrecy, and whatever the motive, in the present -state of his nerves, he was exceedingly grateful for it; -having meantime not a doubt that the disclosure would -be made ultimately in a manner which would permit the -actress to gratify to the full her childish love of theatrical -sensation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The cruise began with a run far up San Pablo Bay -toward Carquinez Straits, followed by a straightaway drive -out through the Golden Gate to watch the sun sink -between the horns of the Farallones; but here the heavy -swells made the ladies gasp and clamor for a return to -the shelter of the Bay. Re-entering the Gate as night -fell, there was good fun in playing hide-and-seek from -searchlight practice of the forts on either side the famous -tideway, and some mischievous satisfaction in lounging -in the track of the floundering, pounding ferryboats, and -getting vigorously whistled out of the way. It was even -enjoyable to grow sentimental over the phosphorescent -glow of the waves in the wake or the play of the -moonbeams on the bone-white crest at the bow. But after an -hour or so of this, when it would seem that all of these -things together with the tonic of the fresh salt breeze had -made everybody wolfishly hungry, Mrs. Harrington's -butler, expertly assisted, opened great hampers of eatables -and drinkables, and began to serve them in the cabin which -would have been rather spacious if the crowd had not -been so large.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Calmer water, James, while supper is being served!" -Mrs. Harrington had ordered with a peace-be-still air.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>James communicated the order to the captain, who -understood very well that Mrs. Harrington was a lady to be -obeyed. But it happened that there was a very fresh -breeze on the Bay that night, and that a swell which was a -kind of left-over from a gale outside two days before was -still sloshing about inside, so that "calmer water" was -not just the easiest thing to find, though the captain looked -for it hard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Calmer water, James, I said!" Mrs. Harrington -directed reprovingly, after an interval of watchful -impatience, accompanying the observation by a look that shot -barbs into the eye of the butler. A close observer would -have noticed—and James was a close observer of his -mistress—that Mrs. Harrington's neck swelled slightly, -and that a flush began to mount upon her cheeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>James knew this pouter-pigeon swelling well and its -significance. Mrs. Harrington </span><em class="italics">must</em><span> now be obeyed. -Calmer water had to be had, if it had to be made.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Back of Yerba Buena, it is calmer," the lady -concluded, with an increase of acerbity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>James lost no time in conveying this second command -and a description of its accompanying signal, to the captain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Behind the Goat,' she said," James concluded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now this island which humps like a camel in the middle -of the San Francisco Bay is known to the esthetics as -Yerba Buena, but to folks and to mariners it is Goat -Island. James was folks; the captain was a mariner. -Mrs. Harrington might have been esthetic.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She draws too much to go nosin' round in there," -replied the captain reluctantly, and explained his reluctance -with a mixture of emphasis and the picturesque, by -adding, "Behind the Goat it's shoal from hell to breakfast."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She said it," replied James truculently; and stood by -to see the helm shift.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In she goes then, dod gast her!" muttered the captain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So much calmer in here under the sheltering lee of -Yerba Buena," chirped Miss Gwendolyn Briggs, another -quarter of an hour later.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, to be sure," assented the hostess, as with a -provident air she surveyed her contented and consuming -guests who were ranged like a circling frieze upon the -seat of Pullman plush which ran round the luxurious -cabin, with James and his two assistants serving from -the long table in the center.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It has been hinted that Mrs. Harrington was inclined to -stoutness. She was also inclined to Russian caviar. -Having seen her guests abundantly supplied, she lifted to her -lips a triangle of toast, thickly spread with the Romanof -confection. James stood before her, supporting a plate -upon which were more triangles of toast and more caviar -in a frilled and corrugated carton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But quite abruptly Mrs. Harrington, who was proper -as well as expert in all her food-taking manners, did an -unaccountable thing. She turned the toast sidewise and -smeared the caviar across her wide cheek almost from -the corner of her mouth to her ear. At the same -moment James himself did an even more unaccountable -thing. He lurched forward, decorated his mistress's -shoulders with the triangles of toast, like a new form of -epaulette and upset the carton of caviar upon her -expansive bosom, where the dark, oleaginous mass clung -helplessly, quivered hesitantly, and then began to roll -away in tiny, black spheres and to send out trickling -exploratory streams, the general tendency of which was -downward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nor was Mrs. Harrington alone in this sudden eccentricity -of deportment. Over on the right Major Hassler, -florid of person and extremely dignified of manner, was -filling the wine glass of Mrs. Marston Conant, when -abruptly he moved the mouth of the bottle a full twelve -inches and began to pour its contents in a frothy gurgling -stream down the back of the withered neck of John -Ray, a rich, irascible, slightly deaf, and sinfully rich -bachelor, who at the moment had leaned very low and -forward to catch a remark that the lady next beyond -was making. As if not content with the ruin thus -wrought, Major Hassler next swept the bottle in a dizzy, -cascading circle round him, sprinkling every toilet within -a radius of three yards, and after dropping the bottle and -flourishing his arms wildly, ended by plunging both hands -to the bottom of the huge bowl of punch on the end of the -table nearest him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The only palliating feature of these amazing performances -of Major Hassler, of James, and of Mrs. Harrington, -was that nearly everybody else was executing -the same sort of scrambling, lurching, colliding, capsizing, -and smearing manoeuvres upon their own account. For -a moment everybody glared at everybody else accusingly, -and then Ernest Cartwright, sitting on the floor where -he had been hurled, offered an interpretation of the -phenomena.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We struck something!" he suggested brightly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By Gad!" declared Major Hassler with sudden conviction, -as he straightened up and viewed his dripping -hands and cuffs with an expression quite indescribable. -"By Gad! That's just what I think!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"James!" murmured a voice almost entirely smothered -by rage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>James, despite the horrible fear in his soul, dared to -turn his gaze upon his mistress, when suddenly a spasm of -pain crossed the lady's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!" she gasped. "Oh, my heart!" Wrath had -given way to fright, and the hue of wrath to pallor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the meantime, the </span><em class="italics">Black Swan</em><span> was standing very -still, as still as if on land,—which to be exact was where -she was. From without came the sound of waves slapping -idly against her sides, and then she shivered while -the screws were reversed and churned desperately. From -end to end of the cabin there were "Ohs" and "Ahs," -and shrieks of dismay, with short ejaculations, as the -guests struggled to their feet and stood to view the ruin -which the sudden stoppage of the craft had wrought upon -toilets, dispositions, and the atmosphere of Mrs. Harrington's -happy party.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The next half hour, to employ a marine phrase, was -devoted to salvage of one sort and another. One thing -became speedily clear. The </span><em class="italics">Black Swan</em><span> had her nose -fast in most tenacious clay. No amount of churning of -the screw could drag her off. And no amount of tooting -of whistles brought any sort of craft to her assistance. -She was stuck there till the tide should take her off. -The tide was running out. By rough calculation, it -would be eight hours till it came back strong enough to -lift up her stern and rock her nose loose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was an unpleasant prospect.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With Mrs. Harrington sitting propped and pale in the -end of the cabin, her guests tried to cheer her by making -light of their plight and the prospect; but as the waters -slipped out and out from under the </span><em class="italics">Black Swan</em><span>, till she -lay on the bottom with a drunken list, and the hours crept -along with dreary slowness through the tiresome night, -one disposition after another succumbed to the inevitable -and became cattish or bearish, according to sex. But -the very first disposition of all to go permanently bad -was that of Marien Dounay. Young Burbeck thought he -understood to the full her capacity to be disagreeable, but -learned in the first hour that this was a ridiculously -mistaken assumption.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nor could any mere petulance on account of weariness -or cramped quarters among people who under these -circumstances speedily became a bore to themselves and to -each other, account for her behavior. Never had Rollie -seen so many manifestations of her feline restlessness, -or her wiry endurance. When other women had sunk -exhausted to sleep upon a cushion in a corner, or upon -the shoulders of an escort who obligingly supported the -fair head with his own weary body, Miss Dounay sat -bolt and desperate, staring at the myriad shoreward lights -as if they held some secret her wilful eyes would yet -bore out of them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Though Rollie loyally tried, as endurance would -permit, to watch with Marien through the night, sustaining -snubs and shafts with humble patience and venturing an -occasional dismal attempt at cheer, the first sign of -relaxation in Miss Dounay's mood was vouchsafed not to -him but to François.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was when at eight o'clock the next morning, after -toiling painfully up the steps at the landing pier, her -eyes fell upon the huge black limousine, with the faithful -chauffeur, his arms folded upon the wheel, his head -leaning forward upon them, sound asleep. He had been -there since ten-thirty of the night before. Other -chauffeurs had waited and fumed, had sputtered to and fro -in joy-riding intervals, and had gone home; but not -François. A smile of pride and satisfaction played across -Miss Dounay's face at this exhibition of faithfulness,—and -especially in the presence of this jaded, dispirited crowd.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"François," Miss Dounay exclaimed, prodding his elbow -until his head rolled sleepily into wakefulness, "I -could kiss you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, she did not. Rollie opened the door, Miss -Dounay stepped back, motioned into the comfortable -depths Mrs. Harrington and as many other of the ladies -as the car would accommodate, and was whirled away.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-coward-and-his-conscience"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXXII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE COWARD AND HIS CONSCIENCE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>On the theory that his duty as an escort still survived, -Rollie was given a seat upon the limousine beside -François; but at the door of the St. Albans Miss Dounay -dismissed him as curtly as if she had quite forgotten that he -was now or ever of any importance to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While to escape a breakfast with that thistle-tempered -lady on such a morning would, under ordinary conditions, -have been a distinct relief, this morning it appealed -to Rollie as merely palliative. It was a mercy, but -no more. He did not expect to know one single sensation -of real relief until he saw Miss Dounay holding her -precious diamonds once more in her hands. It was his -intention, after a hasty breakfast, to make the swiftest -possible transit to the residence of the Reverend John -Hampstead and there secure the loan of a certain key -and rush back to the bank. Within, say, seven minutes -thereafter, he anticipated that this taste of true relief -would come to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was twenty minutes past eight as he crossed the wide -lobby of the hotel. His physical condition was far from -enviable. He was clad in a baggy-elbowed, wretchedly -wrinkled, and somewhat stained yachting suit. He had -not slept since the night before, in which, he now recalled, -he had not slept at all. During this extended period of -wakefulness he had been upset and out of his orbit. Yet -all this while the world had been rocking along, -provokingly undisturbed by his troubles, and right now a big -new day was hurrying on. The cars were banging outside, -and the newsboys were making a devil of a racket -about something, their cries filling the street and ringing -vibrantly into the lobby from without. Everything was -strident and noisy, jarring upon his nerves. His first -instinct was a dive for the bar, but he stopped before the -door was reached. He was on a new tack. He resolved -not to drink to-day. He had signed no pledges; but he -felt that a highball was not in keeping with what he -proposed to do.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Instead he veered toward the grillroom and ordered a -pot of hot, hot coffee with rolls. To fill the impatient -interval between the order and the service, he snatched -eagerly at the morning paper in the extended hand of a -waiter. At the first glance his eyes dilated, and his lips -parted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the coffee came, he was still absorbed. The -dark liquid was cold before he swallowed it, mechanically, -in great gulps. It was well the chair had arms, or his -body might have fallen from it. His mind was reeling -like a drunken thing as he tried to grasp the process by -which a woman's malice had used him for a vicious -assault upon the man who had saved him when he stood -eye to eye with ruin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Slowly Burbeck's muddled intelligence groped -backward over the events of yesterday. What a fool, he! -How clever, she! How demoniacally clever! No -wonder she forgave him so lightly; no wonder she cooed so -ecstatically once she found the diamonds were in the -preacher's vault! No wonder she had made sure that -he went upon the yachting party, even to the point of -going herself. It was to keep him out of reach until her -diabolical plot against Hampstead could take effect. And -no wonder she sat bolt and staring at the shore lights all -the long night through.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But why did she plot against Hampstead? What was -between the clergyman and herself? Why did Hampstead -not strike out boldly and clear himself at one stroke, -by the mere opening of his lips? He not only had not -defended himself, but the papers declared he had a guilty -air, that he fought against the opening of the box, and -bore himself in a manner that convinced even his -bondsmen he was guilty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the newspaper chanced to relate as an interesting -detail how the minister had quickly recovered his -self-possession, to the extent of rearranging the contents of -his box after their handling by Assistant District -Attorney Searle, and that he had even casually destroyed one -paper with the remark that it was something no longer to -be preserved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This almost accidental sentence gave Rollie the -strangest feeling of all. He knew what it must have been -that was destroyed,—the evidence of his own indebtedness, -to explain which would inevitably lead to his exposure. -This, too, accounted for the preacher's protest -and his apparent guilty fear. He could not know the -diamonds were in the box; he did know the I.O.U. was -there. He had destroyed it at the very moment when -the discovery of the diamonds must surely have convinced -him that the culprit he was shielding had betrayed him -like a Judas.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And yet he stands pat!" breathed Rollie huskily, -while the greatest emotion of human gratitude that his -heart could hold swelled his breast almost to bursting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't know they made a man that would stand the -gaff like that," he confessed after a further reflective -interval.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Burbeck's first instinct was to rush to the telephone -and acquit himself in the minister's mind of all complicity -in the plot; for inevitably Rollie thought first of himself. -But thought for himself recalled the threat of Marien -Dounay. How fiercely she had warned him that his -secret was not his own, but hers! He grasped the -significance of her threat now as she had shrewdly calculated -that he would. Let him murmur a word, let him attempt, -no matter how subtly or adroitly, to set in motion any -plan that would loosen the tightening coils about John -Hampstead, and this woman would turn her crazy -vengeance on him, would fasten his crime upon him, would -do a baser thing than that,—would make it appear that -he had deliberately placed the diamonds in the minister's -vault, thus causing her innocently to do him this grave -injustice. Thus in his exposure he would not be -contemplated with indulgent sadness as a gentleman weakling -who had descended to vulgar crime to make good -another crime as heinous; but, on the contrary, would be -regarded hatefully, repulsively, with loathsome scorn and -withering contempt, as a despicable ingrate base enough -to shift his guilt to the shoulders of the one who had -rescued him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before this prospect, fear paralyzed every other -impulse of his heart, every faculty of his brain. His head -was aching violently. He pressed his hands against his -temples, and wondered how he could get quietly out of -here and where he could fly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A secluded room of this very hotel suggested the surest -isolation. He got up-stairs to the writing room, where -a hastily scrawled note to Parma, the cashier, made the -night upon the Bay the excuse for his absence from the -bank for the day. Another to his mother,—he dared -not hear her voice telling him of what had befallen her -beloved pastor,—that he was too weary even to come -home and would sleep the day out in Oakland, leaving -his exact whereabouts unknown to avoid the possibility -of disturbance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mustering one final rally of his volitional powers, -Rollo approached the desk and registered as some one -not himself before the very eyes of the clerk, who knew -him well and laughingly became accessory to the subterfuge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once within the privacy of his room, the impulse to -telephone to John Hampstead and tell that distracted man -a thing which he would be greatly desiring to know, -came again to the young man; but in part exhaustion and -in part cowardice led him to postpone that simple act till -he had slept, rested, thought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A few minutes later, with shades darkened and clothing -half removed, he buried his feverish head among the -pillows and sought to bury consciousness as well. But -the latter attempt was a failure, for the young man found -himself prodded into the extreme of wakefulness,—thinking, -thinking, thinking, until he was all but mad. -Out of all this thinking gradually emerged one solid, -unshifting fact. This was the character of John -Hampstead. He, Rollo Burbeck, might be a shriveling, -paltering coward; Marien Dounay might be only a beautiful -fiend; but John Hampstead was a strong, unwavering -man. John Hampstead would stand firm!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Buoying his soul on this idea, Rollie dropped off to -feverish slumber. But the sleeper awoke suddenly with -one question hooking at his vitals. Was any man -physically equal to such a strain? Was John Hampstead -still standing firm like the huge human bulwark he had -begun to seem?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Shrill cries floated upward from the street, sounding -above the persistent whang of car wheels upon the rails. -These were the voices of the newsboys crying the noon -edition.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie rose uncertainly and tottered to the telephone, -where he asked that the latest papers be sent up to him, -and awaited their coming in an ague of suspense and fear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When they were received, he found little upon the -front of either but the story of the minister's arrest for -the theft of the diamonds and the finding of the jewels -in his box, coupled with fresh emphasis upon his -exhibition of the demeanor of a guilty man. It flowed up and -down the chopped-off and sawed-out columns, liberally -besprinkled with photographs of the chief actors in the -drama, then turned upon the second page and spread -itself riotously, in various types.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Through these paragraphs the mind of young Burbeck -scrambled like a terrier digging for a rat, pawing -his way desperately to make sure of the answer to his -one, all-consuming question: Was the preacher still -standing? The first paper declared accusingly that he -was; that, like a guilty man taking advantage of -technicalities, he refused to speak. The second paper affirmed -the same, but with even greater emphasis, though without -the meaner implication.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the spread-out story there were set forth details and -conjectures innumerable that would have interested and -amazed Rollie, if his mind had been able to grasp them -at all; but it was not. It fastened upon the one thing of -ultimate significance in his present water-logged state. -Hugging in his arms the papers which conveyed this -supreme assurance to him, as if they had been the spar to -which his soul was clinging, he rolled over upon the bed -with a sigh of intense relief and sank instantly into long -and unbroken sleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hunger wakened him at eight in the evening; but -instead of ringing for food, he asked for the evening -papers. Again their message was reassuring. His nerves -were stronger now; his soul was gaining the respite which -it needed. He dispatched a messenger to his home for -fresh linen and a business suit, turned on the water in -the bath, arranged for the presence of a barber in his -room in fifteen minutes, and the service of a hearty -dinner in the same place in thirty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The refreshment of invigorating sleep, plus the -spectacle of John Hampstead, that Atlas of a man, standing -rock-like beneath the world of another's burden, had -inspired Rollie sufficiently to enable him to resume once -more the pose of his presumed position in life. To be -sure, he was still under the spell of his fear,—and could -not see himself as yet doing one thing to weaken the -pressure upon his benefactor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For this dastardly inactivity he suffered a flood of -self-reproaches, but stemmed them with reflections upon -the irreproachable character of the minister, and his -impregnable position in the community. He reflected how -futile and puerile all the endeavors of the newspapers to -involve this good man in scandal must prove. How -ridiculous the idea that he could be a common thief! -How suddenly the wide, sane public, after a day or two's -debauch of excitement, would turn and bestow again their -unwavering confidence upon this man and laurel his brow -with fresh and more permanent expressions of their -regard for his high character. Reflections like this, winged -by his own inside knowledge of the true greatness of -the victim, together with the soothing influence of a bath, -the ministrations of a skilled barber, and the sedative -effects of a good dinner, sent young Burbeck to his -home somewhere about ten o'clock in the evening, to all -appearances quite his usual, happy-looking self.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The telephone had apprised his mother of his coming, -and she had remained up to meet him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, my son!" she murmured happily, as he laid his -smooth cheek against hers and mingled his wavy brown -hair with the silvering threads of her own dark tresses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man gave his mother a gentle pressure of -his hands upon her shoulders, then turned his face and -kissed her cheek, but ventured no word. A sense of -blood guiltiness had come upon him at the contact of her -presence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course you have seen what that woman and the -papers are doing to Brother Hampstead," his mother observed sadly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," replied the young man, in a tone as dejected as hers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They are tearing his reputation to pieces," the mother -went on. "There is hardly a shred of it left now. Like -vultures they are digging over every detail of his life and -putting a sinister interpretation upon the most innocent -things. The worst of it is that even our own people begin -to turn against him. Some of the people for whom he -has done the most and suffered the most are readiest -with their tongues to blast his character. It is a sad -commentary upon the way of the world."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Still," urged Rollie, "the man is strong; his -character is so upright; his purposes are so high and so -unselfish that no permanent harm can come to him. His -enemies must sooner or later be confuted, and he will -emerge from all this pother—" Pother: it took great -resolution for Rollie to force so large a fact into so small -a word—"a bigger and a more influential man in the -community, even a more useful one than before."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Burbeck listened to this tribute from her beloved -son to her beloved minister with a joy that was pathetic. -She had never known him to speak so heartily, with such -unreserved admiration before. It told her things about -the character of her son she had hoped but had not known. -Yet she felt herself compelled to disagree with her son's -conclusions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is where you are wrong, my boy," she said, -again in tones of sadness. "The public mind is a strange -consciousness. If it once gets a view of a man through -the smoked glasses of prejudice, it seldom consents to -look at him any other way. Remove to-morrow every -vestige of evidence against Brother Hampstead, and, -mark my words! the fickle public will begin to discover -or invent new reasons why, once having hurled its idol -down, it will not put him up again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You take it too seriously, mother," suggested Rollie -half-heartedly, after a moment of silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I do not," Mrs. Burbeck replied, shaking her -head gravely. "The worst of it is the man's absolute -silence. If he would only say something. There must -be some sort of explanation. If he took the diamonds, -there must have been some laudable reason. This -morning there were literally tens of thousands of people -hoping for such an explanation and ready to give to him -the benefit of every doubt. There are fewer such -to-night. There will be fewer still to-morrow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If somebody else stole them, and Brother Hampstead, -to protect the thief, planned to hold them -temporarily while immunity was gained for the coward, he -must see now that he made a terrible mistake, that for -once he has carried his extravagant leniency entirely too -far. If this theory is correct, the thief must have fled -beyond the very reach of the newspapers, or be insane, -or a drug fiend, or something like that. I cannot -conceive of any human being so base, or in a position so -delicate that he would not instantly make a public -confession to spare his benefactor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie had turned and was looking straight at his -mother, almost reproachfully, certainly protestingly, at -the torture she was causing him. She saw this strange -look and stopped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, my boy," she exclaimed. "You are so sympathetic. -How proud, how selfishly happy it makes me -to feel that nothing like this can ever come upon my -son!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Rollie's eyes had shifted quickly to a picture on -the opposite wall, and he braced himself desperately -against these bomb-like assaults of his mother upon his -position.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he said after an interval, "it must be pretty -hard on Hampstead." But though he made this remark -seem natural, his brain was again reeling. With mighty -effort he forced himself to give the conversation another -turn by a question which had been fascinating him during -the whole day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell me," he asked, "how is father taking it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very hardly," Mrs. Burbeck confessed. "You -know your father: so proud, so exact and scrupulous in -all his dealings, with his word better than the average -man's bond, yet not lenient toward the man who errs. -He thinks everybody good or bad, every soul white or -black. When Brother Hampstead was prosecuting law-breakers -in court, father was proud of him; but when he -goes off helping jail-birds and fallen women, father is -harsh and utterly unsympathetic.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Last night when the first charge appeared, father was -greatly incensed, because at last, he said, Brother -Hampstead had done the thing he always feared, brought the -church into a notoriety that was unpleasant. This -morning, at the story of the diamonds in the vault, he was -dumbfounded. To-night he talks of nothing but that, -whatever the outcome, All People's shall clear its skirts -of the unpleasantness by requesting Brother Hampstead's -resignation."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Resignation!" Rollie gasped. "Resignation—simply -for doing his duty! Why," he burst out excitedly, -"that would be treachery! It would be the act of Judas. -Don't let father do it, mother," he pleaded. "Don't let -him put me in that position!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A wild look had come into the young man's face as he -spoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You? In what position?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Burbeck was surprised at the expression on her -son's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment Rollie floundered wildly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, you see—I—I believe in Hampstead. I—I -have told the bank that he is all right, no matter what -happens. I don't want my own father reading him out -of the church, do I?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Burbeck's perplexity gave way to smiling -comprehension, which was met by relief and some approach -to composure upon the features of her son, who felt that -he had escaped the eddy of an appalling danger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Naturally," replied Mrs. Burbeck soothingly. "What -a loyal nature yours is! By the way, Rollie," and the -force of a new idea energized her glance and tone; "it -is only half-past ten. Wouldn't it be fine of you to just -run over and give Brother Hampstead a pressure of the -hand to-night, and tell him how loyally your heart is -with him in this trying situation? It would mean so -much to him coming from a strong, successful, young -man of the world like you, whose position he must -admire so much!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie's face went white, and his eyes roved despairingly. -It must have been well for the mother's peace of -mind, as it certainly was for his, that, having asked her -question, instead of studying his face while she waited -for the answer, she let her eyes fall to the seal ring she -had given him upon his twenty-first birthday, and busied -herself with studying out again the complexities of the -monogram and holding off the hand itself to see how -handsomely the ring adorned it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I'd rather not to-night, mother," Rollie -replied, as if after a moment of deliberation. "This thing -works me up terribly—you can see that—and I'm a -bit short on sleep yet. If I went to see Brother -Hampstead to-night, I'm sure I shouldn't sleep a wink -afterward. Besides, my coming might alarm him. It might -make him think his plight is worse than it is; it would be -so unusual."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again the mother-love surged above any other -emotion. "You are right," she admitted, caressing his -hand. "It was only an impulse of mine, anyway. You -must be tired, poor boy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pretty tired, mother," he confessed truthfully; then -stooped and kissed her upon the cheek and seemed to -leave the room naturally enough, although in his soul he -knew that he fled from her presence like a criminal from -his conscience.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-battle-of-the-headlines"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXXIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE BATTLE OF THE HEADLINES</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Hampstead was determined not to show the white -feather. The morning after the discovery of the -diamonds in his box, he made the effort to go about his -daily duties unconcernedly and even happily, with a smile -of confidence upon his face. His bearing was to -proclaim his innocence. But it would not work. Crowds -gaped. Individuals stared. Reporters hounded. The -very people who needed his help and had been accustomed -to receive it gratefully, appeared to shrink from his -presence. At the homes where he called, an atmosphere of -restraint and artificiality was created. He tried to thaw -this and failed dismally; it was evident that the recipients -of his attentions also tried, but also failed, for all the -while their doubts peeped out at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After half a day the minister gave up and sat at -home—immured, besieged, impounded. He was like a man -upon a rock isolated by a deluge, the waters rolling -horizon-wide and surging higher with every edition of the -newspapers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Oh, those newspapers! John Hampstead had not -realized before how much of modern existence is lived in -the newspapers. So amazingly skillful were they in -sweeping away his public standing that the process was -actually interesting. He found himself absorbed by it, -viewing it almost impersonally, like a mere spectator, -moved by it, swayed to one side or the other, as the record -seemed to run. The description of the scene in the vault -room, even as it appeared unembellished in Haggard's -paper, overwhelmed him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the manner of a thief hopelessly guilty," he -confessed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the other hand, when Haggard's paper in an -editorial asked argumentatively: "Why should this man -steal? What need had he for money in large sums?" John's -judgment approved the soundness of such a -defense. "There were a score," affirmed the editorial, -"perhaps a hundred men who had and would freely -supply Doctor Hampstead with all the money necessary for -the exigencies of the work to which he notoriously -devoted all his time. As for his personal needs, the man -lived simply. He had no wants beyond his income."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"True—perfectly true. A good point that," conceded -Hampstead to himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But that evening one of the San Francisco papers -reported that at about the time the diamonds were stolen, the -Reverend Hampstead had approached various persons in -Oakland with a view to borrowing a large sum of money -without stating for what the money was required. The -paper volunteered the conjecture that the minister, -through speculation in stocks, had overdrawn some fund -of which he was a trustee, and of which he was presently -to be called upon to give an accounting; hence the -desperate resort to the theft of the diamonds and the temporary -holding of them in his vault, boldly counting on his own -immunity from suspicion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This conjecture was extremely damaging. It skillfully -suggested a logical hypothesis upon which the minister -could be assumed to be a thief; and so high had been -the man's standing that some such hypothesis was necessary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Hampstead read this, he felt the viciousness of the -thrust. It was false, but it had the color of an actual -incident behind it. Some clerk, bookkeeper, or secretary to -one of the men who had so promptly enabled him to meet -Rollie's defalcation, seeing the comparatively large sum in -cash passed to the hand of the minister, had done a little -thinking at the time and when the arrest came had done a -little talking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet the morning papers of the next day had apparently -forgotten this incident. They were off in full cry upon a -much more dangerous trail by digging deeper into the -relations between the minister and the actress. As if from -hotel employees, or some one in Miss Dounay's service, -one of them had elicited and put together a story of all -the calls that Hampstead had made upon Miss Dounay in -her hotel during the five weeks she had been at the -St. Albans. This story made it appear that the minister had -become infatuated with the actress, and that he had sought -every means of spending time in her company.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was skillfully revealed that Miss Dounay at first had -been greatly attracted by the personality and the apparent -sincerity of the clergyman; but as her social acquaintance -in the city rapidly extended and the work upon her -London production became more engrossing, she had less and -less time for him, and was finally compelled to deny -herself almost entirely to the divine's unwelcome attentions, -notwithstanding which the clergyman still found means of -forcing himself upon the actress. One such occasion, it -appeared, had prevented the appearance of Miss Dounay -at a dinner given by a very prominent society lady of the -town, where the brilliant woman was to have been the -guest of honor. Some one had even recalled that the -minister was not an invited guest at the dinner during -which the diamonds were stolen. He had presented -himself, it seemed, after the affair was in progress and -departed before its conclusion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But it was left to one of the evening papers of this day -to explode the climactic story of the series. The writers -of the morning story had been careful to protect the -conduct of Miss Dounay from injurious inference; but now -the </span><em class="italics">Evening Messenger</em><span> went upon the streets with a story -that left Miss Dounay's character to take care of itself, -and purported boldly to defend the minister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>PREACHER NOT THIEF, boldly ventured the headlines. -The report declared that an intimacy of long standing had -existed between the minister and the actress. The public -was reminded of what part of it had forgotten and the -rest never knew, that John Hampstead had himself been -an actor. The narrative told how the minister had made -his professional debut in Los Angeles by carrying this -same Marien Dounay in his arms in </span><em class="italics">Quo Vadis</em><span>, night -after night, in scene after scene, during the run of the -play; and hinted broadly of an attachment beginning then -which had ripened quickly into something very powerful, -so powerful, in fact, that when Hampstead was playing -with the "People's", an obscure stock company in San -Francisco, Miss Dounay had broken with Mowrey at the -Grand Opera House, because he refused to have the -awkward amateur in his company, and had herself gone out to -the little theater in Hayes Valley and lent to its -performance the glamour of her name and personality, merely to -be near the idol upon whom her affections had fixed -themselves so fiercely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Actors now playing in San Francisco who had been -members of the People's Stock at the time remembered -that the couple succeeded but poorly in suppressing signs -of their devotion to each other, and the stage manager, -now retired, was able to recall how in the garden scene of -</span><em class="italics">East Lynne</em><span>, Miss Dounay had deliberately changed the -"business" between Hampstead and herself in order that -she might receive a kiss upon the lips instead of upon the -forehead as the script required.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This mosaic of truth and falsehood related with -gustatory detail a violent quarrel between the two which -occurred one night in a restaurant prominent in the night -life of the old city, the result of which was that Miss -Dounay cast off her domineering and self-willed lover entirely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"After a few weeks," the article observed soberly, -"the broken-hearted lover surprised his friends by -renouncing the stage and entering upon the life of the -ministry as a solace to his wounded affections."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In support of this, it was pointed out that the minister -had never married nor been known to show the slightest -tendency toward gallantries in his necessarily wide -association with women.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The glittering achievement of vindication was next -attempted by the </span><em class="italics">Messenger's</em><span> story. This admittedly was -theory, but it was set forth with confidence and -particularity, as follows:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The return of the actress, in the prime of her beauty -and at the very zenith of her career, upon a visit to -California, which had been her childhood home, not -unnaturally led to a revival of the old passion. For a time the -two were running about together as happy as cooing doves. -Then a clash came. This was over the question of the -harmonizing of the two careers. Obviously, Miss -Dounay could not be expected to give up hers, and the -minister was now so devoted to his own work that he -found himself unwilling to make the required concession -upon his part.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A serious disagreement resulted. The actress was a -woman of high temper. It had been the custom to -deposit her diamonds in the minister's box as a matter of -protection. On the night of the party, she had -committed them to him, as usual. But the next morning, -angered over the clergyman's failure to keep an appointment -with her, the actress, in a moment of reckless passion, -had charged him with stealing them. Under the -circumstances, Hampstead, as a chivalrous man, declined to -speak, knowing full well that sooner or later the woman's -passion would relent, and she would release him from the -awkward position in which he stood."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were holes in this story. At places it did not -fit the facts; as for instance, the minor fact that by -common agreement the minister did not leave the dinner party -until considerably after twelve, consequently at a time -when the bank vault was inaccessible. There was also the -major fact that the theft of the diamonds was discovered -and reported at two o'clock in the morning, and not the -next day "after the minister's failure to keep an -appointment with the actress had angered her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But these trifling discrepancies were disregarded by the -eager rewrite man, who threw this story together from the -harvesting of half a dozen leg-weary reporters.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nor did they matter greatly to Hampstead. He read -the story with whitening lips. He recognized it as the -sort of vindication that would ruin him. It made his -position a thousand times more difficult. It was infinitely -harder to keep silence when the very truth itself was -blunderingly mixed to malign him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nor did the public mind the discrepancies greatly. The -</span><em class="italics">Messenger's</em><span> story was a triumph of journalism. It was -the most eagerly read, the most convincingly detailed -explanation of what had occurred. The public absorbed it -with a sense of relief that at last it had learned how such -a man as John Hampstead could have fallen as he had. -The story even excited a little sympathy for the minister -by revealing the unexpected element of romance in his life. -Nevertheless, its publication upon the evening of the third -day after the minister's arrest battered away the last -pretense of any considerable section of the popular mind -that, whatever the outcome of his trial, Hampstead was -any longer a man entitled to public confidence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Flying rumor, published gossip, and vociferous assault -upon one side, combined with guilty silence upon the -other, had absolutely completed the work of destruction. -The reputation of the pastor of All People's was hopelessly -blasted. Even to the minister, sitting alone like a -convict in his cell, this effect was clearly apparent. The -question of whether he was a thief or not a thief had -faded into the background of triviality. The issue was -whether he, a trusted minister, while occupying his pulpit -and bearing himself as a chaste and irreproachable servant -of mankind, had yielded to an intrigue of the flesh. -The indictment did not lie in definite specifications that -could be refuted, but in inferences that were unescapable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The riot of reckless gossip had made the preacher's -honor common. Anything was believable. Each single -incident became a convincing link in the chain of evidence -that John Hampstead was an apostate to the creed and -character he espoused.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister in his study, his desk and chair an island -surrounded by a sea of rumpled newspapers, harried on -every side by doubt and suspicion so aggressive that it -almost forced him to doubt and suspect himself, laid his -face upon his desk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was more than he had prayed for. This was no -honored cross that he was asked to bear. It was a robe of -shame to be put upon him publicly. To be sure, it was -loose, ill-fitting, diaphanous, but none the less it was -enveloping. It did not blot out, yet it ate like a splotch of acid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But suddenly the man sat up, and for the first time since -the startling disclosure in the vault room, a look of terror -shot into his eyes, terror mixed with pain that was -indescribable. It was a thought of the effect of this last story -upon the mind of Bessie that had stabbed him. Bessie -had grown wonderfully during these five years. She had -completed four years at Stanford and one year of -post-graduate work in the University of Chicago. To-morrow, -if he had the date right, she would be receiving her -degree. The beauty of her character and the beauty of -her person had ripened together, until John's imagination -could think of nothing so exquisite in all the universe as -Bessie Mitchell. And after the degree and a summer in -Europe, she was coming back to California and to him! -Together they were going to enter upon a life and the -making of a home that was to be rich in happiness for both -of them, and as they fondly hoped, rich in happiness for -all with whom they came in contact.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Reflecting that in this last week Bessie would be too -busy to read the newspapers, John had chivalrously -thought to tell her nothing of what was befalling him, -that she might set out happily upon her European journey. -But now had come this alleged vindication, which was the -most terrible assault of all, with its disgusting -insinuations. He felt instinctively that Bessie would see that -story, because it was the one of all which she ought not -to see. Seeing it, he assured himself, she would believe -it, more fully than any one else would believe it. John -knew that despite his own years of steadfast devotion and -despite her own constant effort to do so, she had never -quite wiped out the horrible suspicions engendered by his -confession of the brief attachment for Miss Dounay. He -suspected it was a thing no woman ever successfully wipes -out. This damnable story would revive that suspicion -convincingly. It was inevitable that Bessie should believe -that Marien Dounay's presence had revived the old -infatuation, and that he had yielded to its power.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This reflection left Hampstead with his lips pursed, his -cheeks drawn, sitting bolt and rigid like a frozen man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In this polar atmosphere the telephone tinkled. The -minister answered it with wooden movements and a -wooden voice:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, nothing to say—yet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Always the "yet" was added. "Yet" meant the -minister's hope for deliverance. The reporters who had -heard that "yet" so many times in the three days began -to find in it something pathetic and almost convincing. -But though the minister had added it this last time from -sheer force of habit, the hope had just departed from -him. With his love-hope gone, there was nothing -personally for which John Hampstead cared to ask the future. -Time, for him, was at an end. He was not a being. He -was an instrument.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But as if to remind him for what purpose he was an -instrument, he had barely hung up the 'phone when there -was a faint tap at the outer entrance of his study, -followed at his word of invitation by the figure of a man -who, with a furtive, backward glance as if afraid of the -shadows beneath the palm trees, slipped quickly through -the narrowest possible opening, closed the door and halted -uncertainly, his eyes blinking at the light, his hands -rubbing nervously one upon the other. The man was -carefully dressed and tonsured. There was every evidence -that to the world he was trying to be his old debonair self, -but before the minister he stood abject and pitiable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rollie!" exclaimed Doctor Hampstead, leaping up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She haunted me!" the conscience-stricken man faltered -helplessly, sinking into a chair. "She threatened to -denounce me right there in the bank, if I dared to -communicate with you." Again there was that frightened -look backward to the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An hour before, when the minister had not yet reasoned -out the effect upon Bessie of this awful story of his alleged -relations with the actress, he would have leaped upon -Rollie vehemently, so anxious to know how the diamonds -got into his safe-deposit box as almost to tear the story -from the young man's throat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But now he had the feeling that there was no longer -anything at stake worth while. All in him that quickened -at the sight of his visitor was a sort of clinical interest -in the state of a soul.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Rollie told his story, the minister gasped with relief -to learn that his own plight was due to no Judas-like -betrayal, but that the young man was, like himself, a victim -of this scheming, devilish woman, and he listened with -sympathetic eagerness while the narrator depicted -brokenly the frightful conflict between fear and duty -through which he had passed during the two days gone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But with the narrative concluded, the duty of each was -still plain. The silence must be kept. Moreover, in this -revulsion of feeling from doubt to active sympathy, the -minister perceived that things were going very hardly -with the young man. Knowing Miss Dounay now rather -well, he was able to understand, even without explanation, -the paralyzing fear which had kept Rollie dumb for these -three days, and to realize that his coming even tardily was -a sign of some renascence of moral courage. This -perception quickened both the minister's sympathy and his -interest in his duty. He was able to interrogate the young -man considerately and to put him gradually somewhat at -his ease, and this so tactfully as to make it seem to Rollie -that, his delay in coming was half a virtue and that the act -of coming itself was a supreme moral victory which gave -promise of greater victories to come.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But it did not require this exhibition of magnanimity to -bring young Burbeck to finish his story with an outpouring -of the bitter self-reproaches he had for two days been -heaping upon himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I never realized before what a despicable coward sin -or crime can make of a man," he concluded. "This -spectacle of you bearing uncomplainingly upon your back the -burden of my guilt before this whole community sets -something burning in me like a fire. It has given me -courage to come here. Sometimes in the last few hours -I have almost had the courage to come out and tell the -truth, to denounce this devilish woman for what she is, -and to take my guilt upon myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment Rollie's eyes opened till a ring of white -appeared about the iris, and he shifted his position dizzily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," exclaimed the minister with sudden apprehension -and an outburst of great earnestness, "you must not. -You must consider your mother. I command you to -consider her above everything else! I should forbid you to -speak for her sake, if nothing else were involved. I do -want you to become brave enough to take this guilt upon -yourself, if circumstances permit it; but, they do not -permit. Besides," and the minister shook his head sadly, -"even that would now be powerless to relieve me from -these awful consequences. I might be proved spotlessly -innocent of the charge of theft, and yet my reputation -would still be hopelessly ruined. It has cost me all, -Rollie—all!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister and the penitent, the innocent and the -guilty, drew together for the moment linked by that bond -of sympathy which invariably exists when one man suffers -willingly in the cause of another, and is heightened -when the sufferer winces under the pain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Even," the minister labored on, "even that hope of -Her, of which I told you the other day, has been torn -from me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie's face turned a more ghastly white.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That?" he murmured huskily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That!" assented the minister, with a grave, downward -bend of the head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is too much," groaned the young man in real agony -of spirit. "Nothing, nothing that is at stake is worth -that—can be worth that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment Hampstead was silent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To be loyal, Rollie, to be true to the highest duty is -worth everything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was what he would have liked to say; it was what -he believed; it was what he meant to demonstrate by his -course of action; but for the moment he could not say it. -Instead, he swallowed hard and looked downward, toying -with a paper-knife upon his desk. But his visitor was -going now. There was no reason why he should stay, -and the minister, as he held open the door, was able to say -warningly: "Remember! Not one word for the sake -of your mother's life."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you," protested the young man, his eyes again -staring wildly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are to try not to think of me," declared Hampstead, -with low emphasis, "except as my own steadfastness -in my duty—if I am able to be steadfast—may -help you to be steadfast in yours. Rollie! We -understand each other?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the young fellow only shook his head negatively -with a growing look of awe and wonder in his eyes, -then turned and slipped hastily away. He did not -understand this man—the bigness of him—at all; but he -found himself leaning on him more and more heavily and -felt some spiritual cleansing process digging at the inside -of himself like the scrape and bite of a steam shovel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As for the minister, once he was free to think of -himself alone, he perceived that Rollie's story had set him -free of silence. It supplied the gap in his knowledge -which had made him dumb. There was a real defense -which could now be offered. Now, too, that there was -again some prospect of vindication, he felt his desire for -vindication grow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Up to the present he had waived arraignment on the -charge, and had twice secured the customary two days' -postponement of the hearing upon preliminary -examination. But immediate action should now be taken. -Accordingly he located Judge Brennan at his club by -telephone and the Assistant District Attorney Searle at his -residence, and without explanation asked that the time for -his arraignment and preliminary hearing be set as soon as -possible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next morning the papers presented as the most startling -development of the Hampstead Case the fact that the -minister had announced himself prepared to go to trial, -and the preliminary hearing had been set for Saturday at -ten o'clock in Judge Brennan's court room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Public interest centered, of course, upon the nature of -the minister's defense. There was even observable -something like a turn of the tide in his favor. Rumor, -suspicion, and innuendo for the time had played themselves -out. Shrewd managing editors—keen students of mass -psychology that they were—discerned signs that these -ebbing cross-currents of doubt and uncertainty might -sweep suddenly in the opposite direction, and they were -alertly prepared to switch the handling of the news if the -popular appetite changed.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-way-that-women-have"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXXIV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A WAY THAT WOMEN HAVE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Friday for John was a day of impatience, its tedious -hours consumed in turning over and over in his mind the -story he would tell upon the witness stand and the plea he -would make to the court for a dismissal of the complaint -against him; when the day was finished, John found -his mind in a rather chaotic state, and it seemed to him -that little had been accomplished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But if little happened that day in Encina which was of -moment to his cause, there was an interesting sequence of -events transpiring in Chicago, which had at least some -relation to the matter; for this was the day upon which the -degrees were being conferred.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The assembly hall of the great university was large, and -every seat was taken. The huge platform was decked, -studded, draped and upholstered with professors, assistant -professors and presidents, all in mortar boards and gowns, -the somber black of the latter relieved by the rich colors -of the insignia indicating the rank or character of their -respective degrees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The presence of all this banked and massed doctorial -dignity made the atmosphere of the hall to reek with -erudition. The vast number of individuals in front felt -their puny intellects dwarfed to pigeon's brains. Hitherto -some of them had rather congratulated themselves that -they knew the multiplication table and the rule of three. -Now their instinct was to grovel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet not all of that assemblage were so impressed. -Robert Mitchell was not. Huge of chest, thick-fingered, -heavy-shouldered, amiable of his broad countenance, -shrewd of eye, and growing thin of that curly brown -thatch which had been one of Hibernia's gifts to his -ensemble, he surveyed the scene with a critic's air.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not that Mitchell scorned the pundits of learning. Being -the vice-president of a transcontinental line of railroad -and therefore necessarily a man of wide acquaintance and -of wide employment of the talents of mankind, he knew -there were occasions when even he must wait upon the -pronouncements of some spectacled creature of the -laboratory. Still, he could not help reflecting that he would -like to see that pale, gangling pundit on the end try to -calculate the exact instant in which to throw the lever to -make a flying switch. He would like further to see that -fellow with a dome that loomed like a water-tank on the -desert try to pick up a string of car numbers as they ran -by him on the track, and see how many he could carry in -his head and carry right.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In fact, everything about the function expressed itself -to Mitchell in terms of traffic. Quite a hall, this. The -seats in it came from Grand Rapids, no doubt; or perhaps -from Manitowoc. The rate from Grand Rapids was -nineteen cents a hundred or thereabouts; from Manitowoc -it was twenty,—practically an even basis. But on a -trans-continental haul now, to San Francisco for instance, -common point rates applied, and Manitowoc had an -advantage of five cents a hundred unless—unless the Michigan -roads rebated the Michigan manufacturers something of -their share in the division of the through rate. Of course, -rebates were illegal; but you never could exactly tell what -an originating line might not do to keep a sufficient -amount of business originating. Take his own line, now, -for instance, and borax shipments from the Mojave -Desert as against the Union Pacific with borax shipments -from Death Valley.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus the mind of the great master of transportation -roved on while professors rose and droned and presented -round rolls to never-ending strings of candidates; but at -length there appeared in the serpentine line going up for -Master's degrees one presence which took the glaze of -speculation from the eye of Mitchell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The world at large has often noted the anomalous fact -that a Doctor's cap and gown does not appear to detract -greatly from the masculinity of a man. If anything, it -makes a beard, a brow, or the pale, unprosperous furze -upon a lip look more virile than otherwise; but that -same cap and gown will deceitfully rob a woman of -something of the indefinable air of her femininity. It -gives her an ascetic cast, and asceticism is unwomanly. -But there are exceptions. Some types of women's faces -look just a little more fetchingly feminine and bewitchingly -alluring under a mortar-board cap than beneath any -other form of headdress.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The eye of the railroad man rested now with benevolence -and satisfaction upon the shapely, ripened figure of -such a woman. Glowing upon her features was a youth -and a feminism so vital as to seem that nothing could -overcome them. Her eyes were blue and bright; her hair -was brown and crinkly; while dimples that refused to be -subdued by the dignity of the occasion kept continually -upon her features the suggestion of a smile about to -break.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But with these evidences of sunny personality, there -went stout hints of substantial character. The forehead -was good and finely arched to stand for brains. The chin -was perhaps a trifle wide to permit the finest oval to the -countenance, but it suggested balance and power, and -proclaimed that what the mind of this young lady planned, -her will might be expected to accomplish. In fact, the -young lady stood at this moment face to face with the -consummation of a five years' programme, and five years is -long for youth to hold a purpose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With swelling satisfaction the railroad man saw the -president of the university now addressing his daughter. -It was the same Latin formula that had been repeated -scores of times already this morning; but now Mitchell -made his first effort to grasp it, to reason out its meaning, -all the while greatly admiring his daughter's unfaltering -courage under the fire of these unintelligible phrases.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The somewhat irrepressible Miss Bessie was, indeed, -doing very well. For a moment the dimples had actually -composed themselves, and there was a light of high dignity -in the eye, as the candidate extended her hand for the -diploma and stood meekly while the silken collar was -placed about her neck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is a very able man, that Doctor Winton," -remarked Mitchell to his wife. "He has got the same way -as the rest of them when he talks; but what he says is -sense."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Since Mitchell did not know at all what the university -president had said, this remark showed that he had fallen -back upon his intuitive judgment of men and had swiftly -perceived in the university president something of the -same practical qualities that go to the making of a -business executive in any other walk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But an excited whisper was just now coming from -behind the white-gloved hand of Mrs. Mitchell. "Oh! look!" -that lady exclaimed, "she's got her box lid on -crooked!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was true that Miss Bessie by some restless twitch of -her head or some rebellious outburst of a knot of that -crinkly hair, had got her mortar board rakishly atilt. Of -course, there were other mortar boards askew, but Bessie's -was individualistically and pronouncedly listed far to port. -And she didn't care. Bessie was so brimming and beaming -with the happiness of life that her whole being was -this morning recklessly atilt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But that afternoon, at about the hour of three, in the -ample suite of rooms high up on the lake side of the -Annex, which had been occupied by the Mitchells for a week, -there was nothing atilt at all about the soul of Bessie. -Her spirits were all a-droop. One single glance around -showed that the busy preparation for the European trip -had been suspended. Wardrobe trunks stood about on -end, their contents gaping, while dresses were draped over -screens and chairs and laid out upon beds; but the packers -had ceased their work. Mrs. Mitchell, distracted between -parental love and the fulfillment of long cherished plans, -as well as distressed at the exhibition of petulant and even -tearful temper which her daughter had been displaying for -an hour, walked restlessly from room to room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I tell you, it's California for mine!" that young lady -affirmed in school-girlish vernacular, while an impatient -foot stamped the floor, a dimpled hand smote wilfully -upon the arm of a huge, brocaded satin chair, and the blue -swimming eyes burned with a rebellious light.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Neither the language nor the mood would seem to become -the beautiful Mistress of Arts; but each testified to -the survival of the humanness of the young woman. In -justice to her, however, it must be explained that she had -not begun this upsetting of father's and mother's and her -own cherished plan with impetuous defiances. She had -begun gently, with sighs, with remarks about longing for -California. She felt so tired; she wished she didn't have -to travel now. If she could just go back and walk under -the palms and orange trees in dear old Los Angeles; if she -could get one great big bite of San Francisco fog, and see -a little desert and a mountain or two, before starting out -for this junky old Europe, she would be reconciled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Otherwise, she would not be reconciled. Of course, -she would go,—since they had planned it for so long, and -since mamma's heart was set upon it;—but she would go -unreconciled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Reconciled! Mrs. Mitchell knew perfectly well what -reconciled meant, but she did not know just what Bessie -meant by dinging on that word.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After fifteen minutes it appeared that Bessie was -through with hints. She had begun to boldly propose, -and then earnestly to plead, and finally tearfully to -demand that the European trip be postponed two weeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But my child! The trip is all planned. The passages -are paid for, everything is ready," protested Mrs. Mitchell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But what's the good of being the slave of your plans? -You don't have to do a thing you don't want to just -because you've planned."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie's lip was full and ripe when she pouted and her -voice was freighted heavily with protest and appeal. -How pretty her eyelids were when there was a tear -quivering on the lashes like a ball of quicksilver. And how -really enchanting she looked, as with hair a bit disheveled -and color heightening, she went on to argue impetuously:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the good of having a private car? What's -the good of being a vice-president's wife and daughter, -if you can't change your mind and go galloping out to -California when you feel like it? Back to your own -home! Back to your own people! Back where the -scenery is the grandest in the world! Back where the -sky is high enough that you don't have to shoulder the -zenith out of the way in the morning so that you can -stand up straight and take a full breath."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bessie Mitchell!" exclaimed her mother at this juncture, -turning on her offspring accusingly. "What has -got into you? Something has! You're up to something. -What is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie brooked her mother's discerning glance and then -dodged it, very much as if that lady had hurled at her the -silver-backed hair brush she held in her hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why," she exclaimed with an air of injured innocence; -"nothing has got into me. I was just taking one -last look at the California papers, and it made me homesick."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She made a gesture toward a pile of papers that -surrounded her chair. Mrs. Mitchell paused and cerebrated. -Somewhere about two o'clock of the afternoon, Bessie had -stepped to the telephone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Send me up the last week of San Francisco and Los -Angeles papers," she ordered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The papers came. She went through the Los Angeles -papers first, turning their pages casually, with occasional -comments to her mother. And then she started the San -Francisco file, scanning this time more swiftly and more -casually until upon the very last of them she became -suddenly absorbed in uncommunicative silence; after which -the musings and the sighings had begun, followed by this -absurd proposal, this passionate outburst, and this -deadlock of the two women behind entrenchments of -newspapers on the one hand and barricades of trunks upon the -other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As between her strong-willed daughter and her strong-willed -self, Mrs. Mitchell knew that she generally emerged -defeated. So far now she had been defeated—at least to -the extent of an armistice. The packers had been stopped, -while the argument went on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But in the meantime Mrs. Mitchell was violating the -rules of war by bringing up reinforcements. Mr. Mitchell -was on his way over from the Monadnock Building. He -would soon settle Miss Bessie; that is, if he did not make -a cowardly and instant surrender, because Mrs. Mitchell -knew well enough he would rather sit on the rear platform -of his private car and watch the miles of steel and -cinder stream from under him for ten hours a day for the -rest of his life than visit his native sod for five minutes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Mrs. Mitchell heard her husband's voice in the -next room, she hurried out to fortify him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie also heard the voice and hurried to the bathroom -to remove traces of tears; for tears were not powerful -arguments with her father. Smiles went farther and -faster. Kisses were the deciding artillery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Father and mother, advancing cautiously upon daughter's -position, found it unoccupied. But the papers were -strewn about. Mitchell picked up the one which lay in the -chair. His glance was entirely casual, but suddenly his -blue eye started and then blazed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The hell!" he ejaculated, and read eagerly down the column.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I be damned!" was his next contribution to the -silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Mitchell stared at her husband in amazement. -Then, seizing her reading glass, for a reading glass was so -much better form than spectacles, she glanced over her -husband's shoulder, read the headline and a few words -following.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The deceitfulness of that child!" she ejaculated, an -expression of indignant amazement on her face, while the -hand with the reading glass dropped to her hip, and her -eyes were turned upon her husband.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I always knew that boy's good-heartedness would get -him into trouble some day," the good woman averred after -a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," rejoined her husband, in tones sharp with -emphasis, "I'd back up on a freight clear round the -world to get him out. Our trip to Europe is off. We go -west on nine to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Mitchell started for the telephone, and -Mrs. Mitchell's eye followed him approvingly, a look of -sympathy and motherliness triumphing over every other -expression upon her face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now there wasn't any particular obligation on the part -of Robert Mitchell to John Hampstead. Hampstead had -merely worked for Mitchell through eight years of -faithfulness in small things, which was a way that Hampstead -had. But as the Vice-President of the Great Southwestern -looked back, those eight years of faithfulness -bulked rather large, which, again, was a way that Robert -Mitchell had.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As to Bessie! But that is a way that women have. -The deeper and the more serious her attachment for John -Hampstead had grown, the more guilefully she had -concealed that fact from even the suspicion of her parents. -Yet now her disguise was penetrated, she sobbed it all out -on her mother's shoulder and got the finest, tenderest -assurances of sympathy and enthusiastic connivance that -could be vouchsafed by one woman to another. The -Mitchells were that way. Let hearts and happiness be -concerned, and all other considerations of life could ride -on the brake-beams.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="on-preliminary-examination"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXXV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">ON PRELIMINARY EXAMINATION</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>But though a very human hope was in his breast, the -man who went out to face a public hearing on Saturday -morning upon a charge of felony in the city where a -week before he had been a popular idol, was not the -same man who had stood trembling and bewildered in the -vault room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rose had noticed first merely a physical change in her -brother's appearance, as from day to day the situation -became more intense. She saw lines deepen on his face, -the knot of pain grow again and again upon his brow, -and the whiteness of his skin increase to a point where -it ceased to be white and became a parchment yellow, -only paler than his tawny hair. But later she became -conscious that there was taking place also a spiritual -change, a certain rare elevation of the character of the -man, giving at times the eerie feeling that this was not -her brother, but some transfiguration taking place before -her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When John Hampstead appeared in Judge Brennan's -court room, something of this exaltation of character was -discernible, even to those who had known the minister -casually. Desiring ardently a happy outcome, the man -revealed in himself something of a new capacity to -endure yet further reverses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rose, Dick, and Tayna had been determined to -accompany John and to sit beside him as he faced his -accusers; but he forbade this, declaring that it would be -construed by his enemies as an attempt to create sympathy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet, despite the stoutness of the clergyman's hope for -justice, the sight of the court room, of Judge Brennan -upon his bench, the clerk and the official reporter at -their desks, Searle, Wyatt, the detectives, the massed -spectators,—packed, craning, curious,—and the vast -crowd that had surged in the streets about the building -and in the corridors, through which way had to be made -for him, were all such sinister reminders of the position -in which he stood, that for the time being they crumpled -the very breastwork of innocence itself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The case of the People versus John Hampstead," -announced the judge in matter-of-fact tones.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a slight movement among the group of attorneys, -principals, officers, and witnesses within the rail -and before the long table, as they either hitched chairs, -or leaned forward with eyes and ears attentive. Outside, -the closely packed onlookers breathed short in -hushed expectancy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Prisoner at the bar, stand up!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the monotonous, unfeeling voice of the clerk -who said this, himself arising.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead, accustomed as his own legal battlings had -made him to court formalities and to seeing men -arraigned in just this language, failed to comprehend its -significance when addressed to him. For an appreciable -instant of time he sat unheeding, until every eye in the -throng and the glance of every officer of the court -stabbing into his face with inquiring wonder, recalled -him to his position. Then he arose hastily, with traces -of confusion which were so instantly repressed that when -necks already craned stretched a little farther, and eyes -already staring set their gaze yet more intently on the -tall figure of the man, they saw his strongly moulded -features as gravely impassive as some weather-blasted -granite face upon a mountain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But for all its massy strength, it was seen again to be -a gentle face. The lips were firmly set, but the -expression of the mouth was kindly. The eyes were fixed upon -the clerk who read the charge against him, while the -prisoner listened with a look at once solemn and dutiful, -for it seemed that again John Hampstead had risen -equal to the height on which he stood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The tableau was an impressive one. It revealed the -majesty of man bowing before the majesty of the law. -It seemed to portray at once the ponderousness and the -power fulness of organized government. A woman who -was almost a stranger had touched a tiny lever and set -the machinery of the law in operation against the most -shining mark in all the community; and here was the -man, with the guillotine of judgment poised above his -head, answerable for his acts with his liberty and his -reputation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In feelingless monotones that galloped and hurdled -through the maze of technical phrasings, the clerk read -the complaint which charged the minister with the crime -of burglary; then, pausing for breath, he asked the formal -question:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is this your true name?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is," the minister replied quietly, but in a voice of -vibrant, carrying quality that must have penetrated to -the outward corridor, and seemed to sweep a sense of -moral power to every listener's ear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The voice was answered by a sigh, involuntary and -composite, that broke from somewhere beyond the rail. -The hearing was on. The unbelievable had come to pass: -John Hampstead, pastor of All People's Church, was -actually standing trial like a common felon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Briefly and casually the Court instructed Hampstead -to his rights and that he was entitled to be represented -by counsel of his own choosing, or to have counsel -appointed for him by the Court.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister, still standing and speaking with deliberate -composure, thanked the Court for its consideration, -but stated that without disrespect to the legal profession -which he greatly honored, he did not feel that his cause -required expert defense; that in his experience he had -acquired a considerable knowledge of court practice and -would depend upon that, trusting his Honor to put him -right if he stumbled into wrong.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The judge nodded comprehension and assent, and the -defendant sat down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are the People ready?" inquired the Court.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We are," answered the crisp, crackly voice of Searle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And the defense?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead, his arms folded passively, responded with -a slight affirmative bow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We will call Miss Alice Higgins," announced Searle, -his voice this time reflecting that sense of the dramatic -which hung over the court room like a cloud, impregnating -its atmosphere as if with an electric charge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The woman known as Marien Dounay had been sitting -at the right of Searle, gowned in tailored black, her -person stripped of everything that looked like ornament. -The wide, flat brim of her hat was carefully horizontal -and valanced by a curtain of veiling, which, while black -and large of cord, was wide meshed enough to show that -the very colors of her cheeks were subdued, as if her -whole person were in mourning over the somber duty to -which she regretfully found herself compelled. And yet -the beauty of her features, adorned by the black and -sweeping eyebrows and lighted by the smouldering jet -of her eyes, was never more striking than now, when, -after standing for a moment, tall and graceful on the -raised platform of the witness chair, she sat down, and -leaning back composedly, swung about to where her -glance could alternate between the eye of the Court who -would hear her and that of Searle who would interrogate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But though her composure appeared complete, and -never upon any stage had her magnetic presence more -completely centered all attention upon itself than in this -melodrama of real life, it was none the less noticeable to -the discerning that she had not glanced at Hampstead, -whose sleeve her arm must have brushed in passing to -the witness chair; and that she still avoided looking where -he sat, but six feet distant, his own eyes resting upon her -face with an odd, speculative light in them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please state your name, business occupation or -profession, and place of residence," began Searle, putting -the opening interrogatory in the usual form through -sheer force of habit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am an actress by profession. My name is Alice -Higgins; my place of residence is New York City."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In your profession as an actress and to the public -generally you are known as Marien Dounay?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," replied the witness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are the complainant in this action?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will ask you," began Searle, "if you have ever seen -this necklace before?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He drew from a crumpled envelope that familiar tiny -string of fire and offered it to the witness. Miss Dounay -took it, passed it affectionately through her fingers, -during which the brilliance of the gems appeared to be -magnified, and then, holding the necklace by the two ends, -dropped it for a moment upon her bosom,—a touch of -naturalness that was either the height of art or the -supreme of femininity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They are my diamonds," she replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And what is their value?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Twenty-two thousand dollars."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lawful money of the United States?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Miss Dounay," continued Searle, "will you -be kind enough to relate to the Court when and under -what circumstances you first missed your diamonds."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Dounay told her story briefly and skillfully, with -an appearance of reluctance when she came to relate the -circumstances and facts which pointed to the minister -as the thief. She stated that Hampstead had always -shown curiosity regarding the diamonds and had -especially questioned her concerning their value. As a -trusted friend, whom she had known for years, and who -during the last several weeks had visited her frequently -and become rather frankly acquainted with her personal -habits and mode of life, he knew where she kept the -diamonds. That so far as she knew, he was the only one -of her acquaintances who possessed this knowledge; that -she had worn the diamonds in company with him during -the evening preceding the supper party, at which she -appeared without them; that no one but her guests were -in this room in which the diamonds were kept temporarily, -and that no one but him, so far as she remembered -observing, was in that room alone; that it was her -custom to keep the box containing these and other jewels in -the hotel safe, and when, after the departure of her -guests, she went to the casket to send it down-stairs, it -was gone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her story done, and to the attorney's complete satisfaction, -Searle then put the final formal questions:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This property was taken against your will and without -your consent?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This all happened in the City of Oakland, County of -Alameda and the State of California?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is all," concluded the prosecutor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cross-examine," directed the Court, turning to the -defendant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have no desire to cross-examine," replied the minister -quietly, but again with that vibrant, far-carrying note -in his utterance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are excused," said the judge to the actress.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With an expression of relief, Miss Dounay left the -stand, still without once having directed her gaze at the -accused, although he continued from time to time to -regard her fixedly with a curious, doubtful look.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Julie Moncrief," announced the prosecutor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Red-eyed and frightened, the French maid took the -stand. In a trembling voice, and with at least one -appealing glance at the minister, who appeared to regard -her more sympathetically than her own mistress, the little -woman gave her testimony. It told of finding the -defendant alone in this room where the guests had been -inspecting the models for the London production of the -play. He was not near the table upon which the models -were displayed, but standing by the chiffonier, with his -arm absently thrown across the corner of it, and the hand -within a few inches of the small drawer in which the -diamonds reposed temporarily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What part of his body was toward the chiffonier?" -asked the prosecutor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"His back and side."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where was he looking?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Out toward the room to which the guests had withdrawn."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As if watching for an opportunity of some sort?" -suggested Searle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead started, and his eyes kindled, but he did -not speak. The Court, however, did.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In view of the fact," interposed his Honor, "that -Doctor Hampstead is unrepresented by counsel and -taking no advantage of a technical defense, I will remind -you, Mr. Searle, that your last question calls for a -conclusion of the witness. She may testify where he was -looking, but she cannot tell what she thinks his actions -implied."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, your Honor, that is right," confessed -Searle quickly. "The witness is somewhat hesitant and -embarrassed, and the form of my question was inadvertent. -Under the circumstances," he added suavely, -"I am being especially careful not to take advantage of -the defendant."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That must be apparent to all, Mr. Searle," the judge -palavered in return.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where was he looking?" queried Searle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having been properly coached by the attorney's question -and his reply to the judge, the half frightened girl -faltered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He was looking out, </span><em class="italics">as if watching for an opportunity</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Color mounted to the cheeks of the judge. Searle -looked properly surprised. The defendant smiled -cynically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Strike out that portion of the answer which involves -the conclusion as to why he was looking out," instructed -the judge solemnly to the reporter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly," exclaimed Searle apologetically. None -the less, he was satisfied with his manoeuvre. He knew -the effect of the little French girl's conclusion could not -be stricken out of the mind of the judge who had heard -it expressed, nor out of the mind of the public before -whom he was in reality trying his case.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"State what further you observed," directed the -attorney. "Did you see him move, or anything?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He did not move; he only smiled at me and was still -there in the same position when I went out. A few -minutes later, I was surprised to see him bidding Miss -Dounay good night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Strike out that the witness was surprised," commanded -the Court sternly, while Julie shivered at the -sharpness of Judge Brennan's tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is all," continued Searle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you wish to cross-examine?" inquired the judge, -directing his glance to Hampstead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not," replied the minister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This time the judge looked surprised, and there were -slight murmurings, rustlings, and whisperings beyond the -rail. The faltering testimony of the little maid had -driven another nail deeply in the circumstantial case -against the minister, and he had not made the slightest -effort to draw it out by the few words of cross-examination -that might have broken its hold entirely. He might, -for instance, have asked if she saw any one else alone in -this room. But the minister did not ask it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Searle went on piling up his case. The detectives -testified to the arrest of the minister, to the search of his -person and house, and to the finding of the diamonds in -the vault box, after which the jewels themselves were -introduced in evidence and marked: People's Exhibit -"A", while the envelope which had contained them and -bore the minister's name and address upon the corner, -became People's Exhibit "B."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Each detective and Wyatt was asked to describe -minutely the actions of the minister from the time when -the personal search ending in the discovery of the safe -deposit key was proposed until the time when the -diamonds were exposed to view upon the table in the vault -room. By this means, Searle got before the Court the -demeanor of the minister as indicating a consciousness -of guilt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Relentless in pursuing this line, Searle put on the -defendant's own bondsmen, Wilson, Wadham, and Hayes, -compelling them to describe, although with evident -reluctance, the impetuous outburst against the opening of -the box when the bond was being arranged, and the -scene in the vault to which they had been witnesses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wilson, chafing at the position into which he was -forced, was further roused when Searle exclaimed -suddenly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will ask you if the defendant, on or about the day -that these diamonds were stolen, did not approach you -for the urgent loan of a considerable sum of money."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wilson glared and was silent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did he, or did he not?" persisted Searle sharply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He did," snapped Wilson.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How did he want it, cash or checks?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He wanted cash, but I do not see, Mr. Searle—" he -began.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Excuse me, Mr. Wilson, but I think you do see," -replied Searle. "Did you give it to him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I did," replied Wilson, "and I would have given -him more—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I ask that a part of this answer be stricken out, your -Honor, as volunteered by the witness, and not in response -to the question," demanded Searle brusquely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think we should not let ourselves become too technical," -replied the Court, with a chiding glance at Searle, -for Mr. Wilson was a person of some importance in the -community.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Searle, slightly huffed, again addressed the witness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did the defendant tell you what he wanted this large -sum of money for?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No. Furthermore—" began the witness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That will do! That will do!" exclaimed Searle -rising, and motioning with his hand as if to stop the -witness's mouth. "That is all," he added quickly. -"Cross-examine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wilson turned expectantly to Hampstead. He was -aching to be permitted to say more, to offer testimony -that would break the force of that which he had just -given. But the minister, comprehending fully the -generous desire of his friend, merely looked him in the eye -and shook his head; for this was one of the trails neither -he nor any one else must be permitted to pursue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having asked this series of questions of Wilson about -the money, apparently as an afterthought, which it was -not, Searle then recalled Hayes and Wadham, and put -the same questions to them. Each made the same -attempt to qualify and enlarge, but each was carefully held -to a statement which pictured John Hampstead making -desperate efforts among his friends to raise quickly what -must have been a very large sum of money, for an -unexplained purpose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Searle felt this to be the climax of his case.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The People rest," he exclaimed with dramatic suddenness, -sitting down and inserting a thumb in his arm-hole, -while after a defiant glance at the minister, he turned -and scanned the spectators outside the rail for signs of -approval of the skillful handling of their cause by him, -their oath-bound servant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the eyes of the spectators were on the defendant, -who now stepped to the platform and stood with upraised -right hand before the clerk to be sworn. As he composed -himself in the witness chair, his manner was cool and even -meditative. The central figure in this tense, emotional -drama, which had every significance for himself, he -seemed scarcely more than aware of his surroundings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My name," he began deliberately, "is John Hampstead. -I am thirty-one years old, and a minister of the -gospel. I reside in the County of Alameda. I am the -person named in this complaint. I was at Miss Dounay's -supper party, although I did not stay to supper. I was -probably in the exact position described by the maid, for -I believe her to be truthful. However, I do not -remember the incident, beyond the fact that the group -gradually withdrew from this room, and I remained there in -reflective mood for a short interval. I saw Miss -Dounay's diamonds last that evening when she excused -herself from the company to change her costume. I saw -them next the morning after, upon the desk in my study."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister paused. The massed audience leaned -forward, intent and breathless. Now his real defense -was beginning. His manner, balanced and impersonal, -was carrying conviction with it. The man was the -defendant—the prisoner at the bar—yet he spoke -deliberately, as if not himself but the truth were at issue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They were brought there," the witness was saying, -"by a man who told me that he had stolen them. He -appeared to be excited. Indeed, his condition was -pitiable. I advised him to immediately return the diamonds -to Miss Dounay, confess his crime to her, and throw -himself upon her mercy; but there were circumstances which -made it impossible for him to act immediately. That is all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister turned from the Court, whom he had -been addressing, and faced Searle, as if awaiting -cross-examination. The audience had listened with painful -interest to the minister's story. The manner of it had -unquestionably carried conviction, but its very -unbolstered simplicity had in it something of the shock -which provokes doubt. This effect was heightened by -its extreme brevity and a suggestion of reticence in the -narrative.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you concluded?" asked the Court, reflecting -the general surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have," replied the minister, with the same quiet -voice in which he had given his testimony.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Begin your cross-examination," instructed Judge -Brennan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who is the man who brought these diamonds to -you?" asked Searle, hurling the question swiftly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I cannot tell you," answered the minister gravely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why can you not tell?" The voice of Searle was -harshly insistent. "Don't you know who the man was?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do, most assuredly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why can you not tell it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because the secret is not mine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not yours?" A sneer appeared on the lips of Searle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It came to me by way of the Protestant confessional," -explained the minister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Protestant confessional! What do you mean -by that?" barked the prosecutor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Simply," replied the minister, "that the instinct of -confession is very strong in every nature moved to -penitence and a hope of reform; so that every minister and -priest of whatever faith becomes the repository of a vast -number of confessions of fault and failure, some trivial -and some grave. I used the term 'Protestant confessional' -because the Roman Catholic Church erects the -confessional to a place of established and formal -importance. In most other communions it is merely -incidental to pastoral experience, but none the less it is a -factor in all effort at rehabilitation of character."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you will not give the name, even to protect yourself?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is not," replied the witness, "a matter in which -I feel that I have any choice. The confession was not -made to me as an individual, but to me as a minister of -God. I will hold that confidence sacred and inviolate at -whatever cost until the Day of Judgment."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dramatically, though unconsciously, the witness lifted -his right hand, as though he renewed an oath to God.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For the first time, too, the utterance of the defendant -had betrayed personal feeling, and for a moment there -was a sheen upon his features, as of a man who had -toiled upward through shadows to where the light from -above broke radiantly upon his brow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you take advantage of the fact that such a confession -as you allege is privileged under the law and need -not be testified to by you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As I said before," reiterated the minister, with a -calm dignity that refused to be ruffled by the sneer in the -cross-examiner's question, "I do not feel that the secret -is mine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The impression that at this point the witness was -retiring behind intrenchments that were very strong was -no more lost upon Searle than upon the spectators, and -he immediately attacked from another quarter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We are to understand, then, Doctor, that your guilty -demeanor which has been testified to by your friends as -well as the officers was entirely because you knew the -discovery of the diamonds in your box would lend color -to the charge made against you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was another trail that Hampstead must not allow -to be pursued.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are at liberty to make whatever interpretation -of my demeanor you wish, Mr. Searle," he replied, a -trifle tartly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Doctor Hampstead; we are agreed upon that," -rejoined the prosecutor dryly, at the same time making -a gallery play with his eyes. "You say," Searle -continued presently, "it was temporarily impossible for the -man who brought these diamonds to you to return them -to Miss Dounay. Why did you not return them yourself -instead of placing them in your vault to await the -convenience of the thief?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The insulting scorn of the latter part of this question -was meant to be diverting to the audience as well as -highly disconcerting to the witness, but the minister -smothered the sneer by replying sincerely and -courteously:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I felt, Mr. Searle, that my problem was to rebuild in -the man a sense of responsibility to a trust and the -courage to act upon a moral impulse. Wisely, or -unwisely, I insisted that the entire procedure of restoration -should devolve upon the penitent himself. His first -spiritual battle was to nerve himself to face the owner of -the diamonds."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Precisely," observed Mr. Searle smoothly, abandoning -the jury rail, against which he had been leaning, to -balance himself upon the balls of the feet and rub his -palms blandly. "And in the meantime, while this thief -was gathering his courage, did your consideration for -your friend, Miss Dounay, impel you to notify her that the -diamonds were in your custody and would be returned -to her very soon?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not alone was I impelled to do that," replied the -minister; "but the unfortunate man urged such a step -upon me. I declined for the same reason. My entire -course of action was dictated by a desire to make this -man morally stronger by compelling him to assume and -discharge his own responsibilities. I was willing to -point out the course; but he must walk the way alone. I -will forestall your next question by saying that for the -same reason I did not notify the police."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Searle was nettled by the easy compactness with which -the minister cemented the walls of his defense more -closely by each reply to the questions in cross-examination.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are aware, Mr. Hampstead," he thundered with -a sudden change of tactics, "that the act which you have -just set forth, so far from setting up a defense to this -charge, proves you guilty under the law as an accessory -after the fact."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not aware of it," replied the minister, with -distinct emphasis. "My impression was that the law -considers not only an act but the intent of the act. The -intent of my act was not to conceal a crime, but to -reconstruct the character of a man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Searle darted a hasty and apprehensive glance at the -massed faces behind the rail.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is all," he exclaimed dramatically, with a cynical -smile and an uptoss of his hands, calculated cleverly -to portray his opinion of the utter lack of standing such -replies as those of the minister could gain him in a court -of justice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Judge Brennan looked at Hampstead. "Have you -anything in rebuttal?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing," replied the minister, arising and stepping -down to his chair at the long table, where he remained -standing while the attentive expression of Court and -spectators indicated appreciation that the climax of the -defendant's effort was at hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The very bigness of the thing the man was trying to -do was in some sense an attest of character, and here and -there among the onlookers ran little currents of reviving -sympathy for the clergyman, who stood waiting quietly -for the moment in which to begin his final effort as an -attorney in his own behalf.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Keenly sensitive to the subtlest emotions of the crowd, -he understood perfectly well that the effect of his -testimony had been at least sufficient to secure a verdict of -suspended judgment from the spectators; and he -expected far more from the balanced mind of the judge; -so that it was with a feeling of renewed confidence, -almost an anticipation of triumph, that he prepared to -make the final move.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If the Court please," he began dispassionately, as if -pleading for a cause that had no more than an abstract -meaning for himself, "I desire to move at this time the -dismissal of the complaint, upon the ground that the -evidence is insufficient to warrant the holding of the -defendant for trial before the Superior Court."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister stopped for breath, and there was another -of those strange, composite sighs from beyond the rail.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In support of that motion," and a note of growing -significance appeared in the speaker's tone, "I argue -nothing, except to ask this Court to accept as true every -word of testimony spoken by every witness heard upon -the stand this morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Court looked puzzled, but the ministerial defendant -went on:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe the truth has been spoken by Miss -Dounay—by the maid—by the officers—and by my own -friends. Yet the facts testified to may be true,"—the -minister's voice rose,—"and the inference to which they -point be wickedly and damnably false! It is so with this -case; for be it noted that I ask your Honor to consider -also that my testimony is true. It denies no statement; -it controverts no fact in the case of the prosecution. On -the contrary, it confirms them; but it also explains -them." Again the defendant's voice was rising. "It confirms -the facts, but it utterly refutes the inference that this -defendant at the bar is guilty. Consider the entire fabric -of evidence as a seamless garment of truth, and you can -dismiss the complaint with an untroubled brow. Reason -is satisfied! Justice is done!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead paused, and a shade of apprehension came -to his face, for his eye had traveled for a moment to that -massed expectancy without the rail.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The verdict of your Honor is to </span><em class="italics">me</em><span>"—Hampstead -in his growing earnestness had abandoned the fictional -distinction between the pleader and his client,—"of more -than usual importance, for by it hangs the verdict of the -people whose interest is attested by those packed benches -yonder. Without disrespect to your Honor, I can say -that I care more for their verdict than for that of any -twelve men in any jury box or any judge upon any bench.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But under the circumstances the whole people cannot -actually judge—they can only be my executioners. -They have not heard me speak. They can not look me -in the eye, nor observe by my demeanor whether I speak -like an honest man or a contemptible fraud. They see -me only through a cloud of skillfully engendered -suspicion. They hear my voice only faintly amid a clamorous -confusion of poisoned tongues. Your Honor must see -for them, and speak for them. Your Honor's verdict -will be their verdict. I tremble for that verdict. I plead -for it!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I ask your Honor to take account of the difficulty -of my position, presuming, as the law instructs the Court -to presume, that it is the position of an innocent person. -Bound by the most inviolable vow which a man can take, -I am unable to offer to you a conclusive defense by -presenting the man who committed the crime. He may -be in this court room now, cowering with a consciousness -of his guilt and in awe at beholding its consequences to -the one who has helped him. He may be an officer of -this Court; he might be your Honor, sitting upon the -bench, which, of course, is unthinkable—yet no more -unthinkable to me than that I should be charged with -this crime. But though he be here at my very side, I -cannot reach out my hand and say: 'That is the man.' I -will not touch him nor look at him. Unless he -speaks—and I confess that there is an outside reason why I -should absolutely forbid him to speak—there is no -defense that can be offered, beyond the simple story I have -told you.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May I not, also, without being accused of egotism, -remind your Honor that if it is decided that I appear -sufficiently guilty to warrant a criminal trial in the -Superior Court, my work in this community will be at an end."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister was speaking for the first time with a -show of deep feeling, and an indulgent sneer appeared -upon the lips of Searle. This was not legitimate -argument. Yet a mere preacher might not be supposed to -know it, and therefore he, Searle, would magnanimously -allow the man to talk himself out, if his Honor did not -stop him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the Court was also complaisant, and the minister -went on with passionate earnestness to plead:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Regardless of the ultimate verdict of a jury, the -stigma of a felony trial will be upon me for life. From -this very court room I shall be taken to your identification -bureau. I shall be weighed, stripped, measured—my -thumb prints taken—my features photographed like -those of any criminal!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Hampstead proceeded, his speech began to be -punctuated with spasmodic breaks, as if the prospective -humiliation was one at which his sensitive nature revolted -violently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And those finger prints," he labored—"those -measurements—and that photograph—will become a -part—of the criminal records—of the State of -California—for as long as the paper upon which they are made -shall last!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No! No!! No!!!" shrilled a hysterical voice that -burst out suddenly and ended as abruptly as it began.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Strangely enough it was the complaining witness who -had cried out. She had risen and stood with hands -outstretched protestingly to the minister, while whispering -hoarsely: "It cannot be! It cannot be!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Madam!" thundered the minister, viewing the -woman sternly, his own emotion of self-sympathy -disappearing at this unexpected sign of softness in her, -while his eyes blazed indignantly: "That is a police -regulation which by long custom has come to have all -the force of law. If you doubt it, your accomplice there -will so inform you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead, as he uttered the last words, had shifted -his blazing glance to Searle, who at first disconcerted and -endeavoring to pull Miss Dounay back into her seat, now -rose and turned toward the defendant, his own face -aflame, and hot words poised upon his tongue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Judge Brennan was rapping for silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Compose yourself, madam!" he ordered sternly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But before the minister's accusing glance, Miss Dounay -was already dropping back into her chair, and as if in -dismay at her outbreak, buried her face in her hands, -while Searle, quivering with fury, snarled out:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I resent, your Honor, with all my manhood, the -epithet which this defendant has gratuitously and -insultingly flung at me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Be seated, Mr. Searle," commanded the judge. -"Doctor Hampstead's position is very distressing. He -will withdraw the objectionable epithet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I withdraw it," acknowledged the minister, recovering -his poise; yet he said it doggedly and -uncompromisingly, qualifying his withdrawal with: "But your Honor -will take into account that the manner of the -representative of the District Attorney has been offensive to -me, though some of the time veiled by an exaggerated -pretense of courtesy. It has seemed to me the manner of -an accomplice of the complaining witness, and I withdraw -the statement more out of respect to this Court than out -of consideration for him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Searle glared, but resumed his seat, giving vent to his -temper in a violent jerk of his chair as he dropped into it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You may conclude your remarks," observed the Court -to Hampstead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is nothing to add," replied the minister, after -a reflective interval, "except to urge again that your -Honor consider the grave consequences of yielding to a -one-sided view of the case. I ask only that truth be -honored and justice done!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With this the defendant sat down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Dounay appeared to have regained her composure, -but, white and still, her glance was now fixed as -noticeably upon the face of the defendant as before she -had markedly avoided it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a hitch to his vest and a forward thrust of the -chin, Searle rose to attack the plea of the defendant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your Honor may well ask with Pilate: 'What is -truth?'" he began, the manner of his speech showing -that while his self-control was admirable, his mood was -that vindictive one into which many a prosecutor appears -to work himself when arising to assail the cause of a -defendant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"However," he prefaced, "I must first apologize to -your Honor for the momentary loss of control on the part -of the complaining witness. Your Honor will realize -that her emotions were wantonly and deliberately played -upon by the defendant in a skillful endeavor to create -sympathy for himself. The fact that he succeeded so -readily is an eloquent bit of testimony to the sympathetic -nature of this estimable and brilliant woman, to the ease -with which her confidence is gained, and the painful -reluctance with which she performs her duty in this sad -case: for any way we view it, it is a sad case, your Honor, -and no one regrets more than I the harsh words which -must be spoken in the course of my own duty to the -people of this county.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"However," and Searle paused for a moment as if -both gathering breath and steeling himself for the vicious -assault he proposed to make: "Addressing myself to -the plea of the defendant for a dismissal of this case, I -must say flatly that the motion itself, the argument to -support it, and the testimony upon which it is based, -constitute the most audacious combination of effrontery -and offensive egotism to which a court was ever asked to -listen. I congratulate your Honor upon the patience and -self-control with which you have contained yourself while -permitting this defendant to go on from statement to -statement, involving himself deeper in this dastardly -crime with every word.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If, your Honor, in all my days at the bar as a -prosecutor, I have ever looked into the face of a guilty -man, it is the face of this man!—this egotist!—this -boastful braggart!—" As Searle hurled each epithet, -he worked his passion higher and shook an offensively, -impudently accusing finger at the defendant; "this -hypocrite!—this paddler of the palms of neurasthenic -women!—this associate of criminals!—this shepherd -of black sheep, who now sits here with a sneer upon his -lips—lips which have just committed the most appalling -sacrilege by seeking to cloak the guilt of a dastardly act -with the sacred gown of a priest of God!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As a matter of fact, there was no sneer discernible to -any one else upon the lips of the defendant. At first -smiling at the mock-fury into which Searle was lashing -himself, they had become white and bloodless under the -sting of these heaped-up insults. But this last was more -than the man could stand in silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is my position so defenseless, I ask your Honor," -Hampstead interrupted, "that I am compelled to endure -this?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The judge bestowed a chiding glance upon the attorney, -but replied to the minister:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A certain liberty is allowed the prosecutor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But that liberty should not be a license to defame!" -protested the defendant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Am I to be permitted to proceed with my argument -or not?" bawled Searle in his most bullying manner, -while he glared at the audacious minister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You may proceed," replied the Court, affecting not -to notice the disrespect with which it had been addressed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Searle continued, lapsing now into an argumentative -strain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The defendant himself has said that the case against -him is without a flaw. He has had the effrontery to -urge that your Honor accept the testimony against him -as true testimony. He has only argued that if we are -to believe the witnesses for the prosecution, we are also -to believe him. I say—I affirm with all the force at my -command—that we are not to believe him at all!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I ask your Honor to consider first the motive for his -testimony. The man is hopelessly involved. The charge -of burglary is a simple one, compared with the broader -indictment of moral profligacy which the whole -community is at this moment prepared to find against him. -Ruin stares him in the face. His pose is shattered. His -disguise is penetrated. If he goes from this court room -to the identification bureau of which he has spoken in -his mawkish plea for sympathy, as I believe he will go, -he goes to be catalogued with criminals, and to be damned -forever in the esteem of his neighbors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To avert that, would not your Honor expect this -defendant to be willing to perjure himself without a qualm? -Will a man who has lived a lie before a whole community -for five years hesitate to add another in an endeavor to -avert his impending fate? Will a man who has stolen -the jewels of his trusted friend hesitate to swear falsely -in denial of such an act? Will a man who has worked -upon the sympathy of his friends to secure large sums -of money for a purpose so doubtful that it is -undisclosed— Will he hesitate to work upon the sympathies -here by words and implications, by innuendoes that are as -false to religion as to fact?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your Honor knows that he would not so hesitate. -Your Honor knows, through long familiarity with the -law of evidence, that the testimony of a defendant in his -own behalf, because of his intense interest in the outcome -of his case, is always to be weighed with extreme care.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe under such circumstances not only the -motives, the springs of action, but the probable mental -processes of the witness are to be taken into account. I -ask your Honor what a defendant involved in the mesh -of circumstantial evidence here presented would probably -do under these circumstances. Your own judgment -answers with mine that he would probably lie, and exactly -as this defendant has lied!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again Searle turned and shook his long arm with -insulting undulations in the direction of the defendant, -after which he continued:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Turning from probabilities to experience, I ask your -Honor out of his memory of years of service upon the -bench, what does the arrested thief—taken like this one, -with the loot in his possession—what does he do? -Why, he either confesses his crime, or he tells you that -he is not the thief but an innocent third party, who -unwittingly received the loot from the man of straw, whom -his imagination and his necessities have created. That -latter alternative is the defense of this alleged minister of -the Gospel! He had not the honesty to confess, but tells -instead that same old lie which criminals and felons have -been telling in that same witness chair since this Court -was first established.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yet this defendant's story has not even the merit of a -pretense to ignorance that the goods he held were stolen -goods. He boldly admits that he knew they were stolen; -that he was personally acquainted with the owner; that -he knew the distress of her mind; knew the police -departments of half a dozen cities were searching for the -jewels, and that the newspapers were giving the widest -publicity to the facts and thus joining in the chase for -loot and looter. And yet he calmly permits these -diamonds to repose in his vault with never a word or hint -to calm the distress of his friend or relieve the peace -officers of burdensome labors in which they were -engaging and the unnecessary expense which they were thus -putting upon the taxpayers who support them!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, your Honor, if the witness's own story is true, -he has given this Court an abundant ground for holding -him to answer to the Superior Court, not indeed upon the -exact charge named in that complaint, but as an -accessory after the fact to said charge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But it is not true. To use his own phrase, it is -wickedly and damnably false! So palpably false that it -collapses upon the mere examination of your Honor's mind -without argument from me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yet I cannot close without calling attention to the -sheer recklessness with which this thief and perjurer has -heightened the infamy of his position by an act of brazen -sacrilege. He has sought to make plausible his weak, -unimaginative lie that he received these goods instead of -stealing them, by pretending that he received them in his -capacity as a religious confessor, under conditions that -bound him to a silence which the voice of God alone -could break.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That, in itself, is a claim that should bring the blush -of shame to the cheek and rouse the hot resentment of -every honest minister and of every honest priest, and -make them join with the outraged feelings of honest -laymen and of citizens generally in demanding that justice -descend upon this man and strike him from the pedestal -of self-righteous egotism upon which he stands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Turning again for a moment to the question of -probabilities: I ask your Honor if it is probable, even -thinkable, that any minister, standing in the position of regard -in which this minister stood last Sunday morning before -the eyes of his people, would deem a crisis like this -insufficient to unseal his lips and absolve him from his -confessional vows? His very duty to his God and to his -congregation, to the poor dupes of his hypocrisy, to say -nothing of his duty to himself, would compel him to go -upon the witness stand voluntarily and reveal the name -of the alleged thief!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Such a consideration again forces upon any unbiased -mind the conviction that this man is not speaking the -truth. View him as a thief, and you suspect that his -story is a lie. Try to view him as a minister, acting -honestly and in good faith, and you no longer suspect, -but you deeply and unalterably know that his story is a lie!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Searle, now at the height of his self-induced passion, -as well as at the climax of his argument, stood bent over, -his eyes blazing at the judge, his face red, his neck -swollen, his features working in rage, and his voice deepening -to a bull-like roar, while with an upper-cut gesture of his -clenched fist and right arm, he appeared to lift the words -to some mighty height and hurl them like a thunder bolt -of doom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister, sitting with every muscle taut, as he -strained under the viciousness of this assault, felt just -before its climax some insensible cause directing his gaze -from the face of his official accuser to that of his real -Nemesis, the actress, and was surprised to see her -crouching like a tigress for a spring, with eyes fixed upon the -prosecutor, and a look of unutterable malice, hate, and -loathing in their savage beams.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But with this scene thrown for a moment on the screen -of his mind, the suddenly sobering utterance of Searle -indicated that he was concluding his argument, and the -defendant's eyes returned quickly to the attorney's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For these reasons, your Honor," the man was saying, -"so patent and bristling from the testimony that I -need not even have spoken of them in order to bring -them to your attention, I ask you to find that the offense -as charged in the complaint has been committed, and that -there is sufficient cause to believe the defendant guilty -thereof, and to order that he be held to answer before -the Honorable, the Superior Court of the County of -Alameda and the State of California."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Searle sat down and wiped his brow,—confident that -he had added greatly to his reputation by a masterly -argument which had sealed the fate of a man, against -whom, despite the minister's suspicions, he really had -nothing in the world but that instinct for the chase to -which, once a strong nature gives up, it may find itself -led on to excesses that are the extreme of injustice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The audience moved restlessly yet silently, shifting -cramped muscles tenderly and rubbing strained eyes; but -still alert for the issue of the scene which in one hour -and fifty minutes had been played from one climax to -another.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have the opportunity to reply," said the Court, -addressing Hampstead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The spirit and the manner of this address is its own -reply," answered the defendant quickly, believing -hopefully that it was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the audience, more discerning than the defendant, -issued the last of its long-drawn collective sighs, -foreseeing that the drama was now at its inevitable end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In sharp, machine-like tones, the verdict of Judge -Brennan was pronounced:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Held to answer! Bail doubled! Adjourned!</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The gavel fell sharply, and the eyes of the Court -darted a warning glance beyond the rail as if to forestall -a possible demonstration of any sort. But there was -none. A kind of restraint appeared to hold the court -and spectators in thrall. Then the official reporter closed -his notebook with an audible whisk; the clerk, gathering -his papers, snapped them loudly with rubber bands; and -the judge arose and started toward his chambers, while -Wyatt moved over and took his place significantly by the -side of Hampstead. As if this broke the spell, there was -a shuffling of many feet, while the minister was -immediately surrounded by his bondsmen and a few friends. -The friends pressed his hand and stepped away into the -outgoing crowd; but the bondsmen went with him into -the judge's chambers, where the new surety was quickly -executed. After this, wringing the hand of each of the -three men feelingly, Hampstead asked to be excused.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have an humiliating experience to undergo," he -explained, with a meaningful glance at Detective Larsen -who, representing the Bureau of Identification, stood -waiting. "I prefer to face that humiliation alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I understand," exclaimed Wilson, his face flushing. -"It is a damned outrage! I didn't know such a thing -could be done. I thought every man was presumed -innocent until proven guilty! Instead of that, they put -him in the Rogues' Gallery!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are as innocent as an angel from heaven," -averred the white-bearded Wadham extravagantly, as -he laid an affectionate hand upon the shoulder of the -younger man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are, indeed," echoed Hayes, his voice hoarse -with emotion. "I confess again that we doubted for a -time, but your character rises triumphant to the test."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister was unwilling to trust himself to further -speech; for his disappointment with the verdict had been -great, and the sympathetic loyalty of these trusted friends -made self-control difficult, so with only a nod of -comprehension, he turned quickly to where Detective Larsen -waited.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was nearly one hour later when the minister, -clothed again, stepped out upon the street. Behind him -was his record in the criminal history of the State of -California. He had seen his name go into the card -index with a wife murderer on one side of him and the -author of an unmentionable crime upon the other. With -the sickening memory of his loathsome ordeal searing his -brain he was only half-conscious of the clatter and bang -of the busy city life about him. Mercifully the gaping -crowd had dispersed. Hurrying people went this way and -that, intent upon their own concerns. But a newsboy, -intent, too, on his concerns, thrust the noon edition of -</span><em class="italics">The Sentinel</em><span> before the minister's eyes. Seeking the -headline by habit, as the eyes of the victim turn to the -torturing irons, he read in letters as black and bold as -any he had seen that week, the verdict of Judge Brennan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"HELD TO ANSWER!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Instinctively Hampstead paused, like a man in a daze, -then passed his hand before his eyes to blot the black -letters from his sight. In the identification bureau, the -meaning of those three words had just been defined to the -most sensitive part of his nature in abhorrent and -revolting terms. The sight of that headline to be flaunted -on every street corner was like seeing these words, with -their loathsome connotation, spread upon a banner that -arched over the whole sky of life for him. It -overwhelmed him with a sense of the public obloquy to which -he was now to be subjected.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the street car, as he rode homeward, the minister -felt the eyes of the people upon him,—curiously he -knew, derisively he imagined; yet some were in reality -sympathetic. The conductor, as he took the clergyman's -nickel, touched his hat respectfully, thus subtly indicating -that there was some vestige of religious character still -outwardly attaching to his person. And a workman, -his tools in his hand and the stain of his craft upon his -clothes, leaned over and touched the minister upon the arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My boy was playing the ponies in Beany Webster's -place," he said. "You saved him for me. I don't care -what else you done; if they ever got me on the jury, -there's one would never convict you of anything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister recognized the friendliness of the remark -with a cordial smile, and put out his hand to grasp -gratefully the soiled one of the toiler. That handclasp was -immensely strengthening to him. He felt as if he had -taken hold of the great, steadying hand of God.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-promise-of-strength"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXXVI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A PROMISE OF STRENGTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Late in the afternoon of this day, which, it will be -remembered, was Saturday, the minister had three -callers in tolerably prompt succession. The first to -appear was the Angel of the Chair, hailing the minister -with a smile as if, instead of disgrace, he had achieved -a triumph.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead's sad face lighted with sheer joy at her -manner. It was such a relief that she had not come to -commiserate him. His mood was extremely subtle. It -irritated him to be pitied; it stung him to be doubted. -He only wanted to be believed and to be encouraged by -those who did believe him. This fragile blossom of a -woman who, with all her gentleness and weakness, had -yet in her breast the battling spirit of the martyrs of old, -touched just the right note, as after an interval of -sympathetic silence, she asked gently, with a voice full of -the tenderest consideration, "Can you—can you see it -to the end?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To the end?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead lifted his brows gravely. "You mean—conviction?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," she answered with that simple directness which -showed that she was blinking no phase of the question. -"Is the issue big enough to require such a sacrifice?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I think it is too improbable it could go to that -length," Hampstead answered thoughtfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But it might! Is it worth it?" Mrs. Burbeck persisted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The calm sincerity of her manner poised the question -like a lance aimed at his heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead hesitated. He really had not thought as -far as this, any farther in fact than the hateful smudge -of the thumb print and the picture in the Gallery of -Rogues. But now, with her considerately calculating -glances upon him, he did think that far, weighing all -his hopes, his work, his position at the head of All -People's, his priceless liberty, his fathomless love for -Bessie, against the pledged word of a priest to a weak -and penitent thief, whose soul at this moment trembled -on the brink, suspended alone by the spectacle of the -integrity of the confessor to his vow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He weighed his duty to this thief now somewhat as -five years before he had weighed his duty to Dick and -Tayna against the supreme ambition of his life. The -stakes then, on both sides, large as they had seemed, were -infinitely smaller than the values at issue now. Looking -back, John knew that then he had not only made the -right decision, but the best decision for himself. He -thought that he was humbling himself; but instead he -had exalted himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But now the lines were not so sharply drawn. He -was renouncing his very position and power to do his -duty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Burbeck half-looked and half-breathed this gentle -reminder that she had asked her pastor a question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe," said the minister, revealing frankly the -trend of his thought, "that the nearest duty is the -greatest duty; that the man who spares himself for some -great task will never come to a great task. I hold that -a man ought to be true in any relation of life; and -when the issue is drawn between one duty and another, -he should try to determine calmly which is the highest -duty and be true to that. I shall try to be that in this -case—even to conviction!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sheen upon the face of the woman as she listened -was as great as the glow upon the face of the man as he -spoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is a very simple religion," Mrs. Burbeck concurred -happily, "and it contains the larger fact of all -religion. That is why Jesus went to the cross; because -he was true. That was why the grave couldn't hold him; -because he was true. You cannot bury truth, nor brand -it, nor photograph it, nor put its thumb prints in a book, -nor put stripes upon it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead arose suddenly, enthusiasm kindling like -the glow of inspiration upon his face. "That is why -I still feel free—unscathed by what has happened," he -exclaimed. "In a small and comparatively unimportant -way it has been given to me to be true. Yes," he said, -sitting down again and speaking very soberly, "I shall -be true to the end—conviction, imprisonment even. -Prison terms do not last forever; and every day spent -there will be a witness to the fact that I am -true." Exalted enthusiasm had passed on for a moment to a -strained note that sounded like fanatical egotism.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As if to check this Mrs. Burbeck asked quietly but -with a significance that was arresting:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you strong enough, do you think?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment the minister was thoughtful and something -like a shudder of apprehension swept over him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," he replied humbly. "I begin to confess it to -myself. The fear that I will weaken begins to come -to me at times."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is good," the Angel of the Chair commented -surprisingly, gathering her scarf about her shoulders as -she spoke. "It is better to be too weak than to be too -strong. But strength will be given you. That is what -I came to say. I feel strangely weak myself, to-day, and -must be going now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You should not have come," reproached the minister, -as he helped Mori, the Japanese, to wheel her to -the door; "and yet I am so glad you did come, for you -have made me feel like some chivalrous champion of -eternal right jousting in the lists against an impious -Lucifer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For this the Angel gave him back a smile over the top -of her chair, and the minister watched her out of sight, -reflecting that in the few days since this strain upon them -all began she had failed perceptibly, and recalling that -never before had he heard her allude to her weakness -or make her physical condition the excuse for anything -she did or did not do.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Within a quarter of an hour, so soon almost that it -seemed as if he had been waiting for his wife to depart, -Elder Burbeck was announced as the second caller at -Doctor Hampstead's door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For the five years of his eldership before the advent -of Hampstead, Elder Burbeck had a record in the official -board of never permitting any subject to be passed upon -without a word from him, nor ever having allowed any -question to be considered settled until it was settled -according to the dictates of the thing he supposed to be -his conscience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At their first momentary clash on the day when Hampstead, -the book agent, had broken open the church which -Burbeck had nailed up, the older man thought he sensed -in the younger the presence of a spiritual endowment -greater than his own. To this the ruling Elder had -bowed within himself. Externally, his manner was not -changed, nor his leadership affected. To the -congregation his submission to the final judgment of the -minister was accounted as a virtue. Instead of -weakening him, it strengthened his own standing with the -membership.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While Burbeck had at times voiced his protests to the -pastor at what he felt to be mistaken sentimentalism, and -while the protests had been dismissed at times with an -unchristian impatience, there was no one to whom the -events and disclosures of this terrible week of headlines -had been more surprising or more shocking than to the -meticulous apostle of the </span><em class="italics">status quo</em><span>. Upon the Elder's -metallic cast of mind each revelation impacted with the -shattering effect of a solid shot. Through a thousand -crevices thus created, suspicion, rumor, and the stream -of truths, half-truths, and lies percolated to the bed of -reason. His mind was without elasticity. The school -of logic in which he had been trained reasoned coldly, -by straight lines to rectangular conclusions. There was -no place for allowances or adjustments. Once a stitch -was dropped, there was no picking it up, and the blemish -was in the garment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So he reasoned now about Hampstead. The minister, -having been weak once, must have also been wicked; -being brittle, he must have been broken; frail, he must -have been fractured. Having been wicked, broken, -fractured, this explained his immense sympathy for and -capacity to reach other frail, weak, brittle men and women; -but it did not justify his pose as a pillar unscathed by -fire. Loving All People's as he loved himself, his wife, -his brilliant son,—with pride and self-complacence,—Burbeck -felt hot resentment at the disgrace which the -disclosures and the flood of scandal brought upon the -church.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Searle himself had not believed many of the charges -he hurled against Hampstead in his concluding speech. -Elder Burbeck, who heard that speech from behind the -rail, believed it all. Believing it, and believing in his -mission to purge the church of this impostor, his zeal -roused him to the point where he forgot to be logical. -He believed the preacher was a thief, a liar and a -hypocrite; and at the same time believed that he had told the -truth upon the witness stand in his own defense. But -this only made his sin more heinous. He was harboring -some crook—some other man, weak, frail, brittle, -wicked as himself. That man was necessarily a -hypocrite, a whited sepulcher, posing before the community -as a pillar of virtue. It would be an act of righteousness -to find and expose that man. But who could it be? -Somebody at that supper, of course. Now it might be -Haggard, managing editor of </span><em class="italics">The Sentinel</em><span>; newspaper -men were always suspicious characters, anyway; and -surely Hampstead was under obligations to Haggard. -Haggard, with all his publicity, had given the minister -his first fame, and for years supported him upon his -pedestal as a public idol. Yes, it probably was -Haggard. But whoever it was, Burbeck undertook in his -mind a second mission; to find and expose and brand the -thief whom the minister was protecting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With no more fiery fanaticism did the followers of -Mohammed set out with the sword to purge the world of -infidels than did Elder Burbeck purpose to purge All -People's of its pastor and wring from the lips of -Hampstead the secret of another's crime.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He entered the minister's study with a pompous -dignity that was ominous. His face was as red, the bony -protuberances on his boxlike and hairless skull were as -prominent, as ever. His shaggy eyebrows lent their -usual fierceness to the steel gleam of his blue eye. His -close-cropped gray mustache clung perilously above lips -that were straight and unsmiling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good evening, Hampstead," he said, with a falling -inflection.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was the first time he had ever failed to say -"Brother" Hampstead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister had risen to greet his visitor, but subtly -discerning in the first appearance of the man the mood in -which he came, had not advanced, but stood with his -desk between them, waiting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How are you, Burbeck!" the minister replied evenly. -This was also the first time he had failed to address the -Elder as "Brother." He was rather surprised at himself -for omitting it now and took warning therefrom that -his feelings were poised upon hair triggers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Elder saw in the minister's manner instant -confirmation of his conclusions. The man had not the spirit -of Christ. He met hard looks with hard looks. This -was well. It made the Elder's task the easier. He could -proceed at once to business.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In his hand he held a copy of the last edition of </span><em class="italics">The -Sentinel</em><span>, and now he spread the paper across the desk -before the clergyman's eye. The same old headline was -there, "HELD TO ANSWER," but in the center of the -page was a frame or box which contained a half-tone, a -smear, and a short column of black-face type, both words -and figures.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead saw at a glance that it was a printed copy -of his Bertillon record. The smear was his thumb print; -the picture was his picture, a half-tone of the bald, -unretouched photograph of himself which had been made -for the Gallery of Rogues, and across the bottom of the -picture was a suggestive space, in which was printed: -"No.——?" The inference sought to be conveyed was -clear. So great was the sense of pain which Hampstead -felt that it was reflected in the glance he turned upon the -Elder, a glance that came as near to an appeal for pity -as any that had yet been in the clergyman's eye. But -it met no response from the stern old Puritan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Be seated!" the minister said, a trifle sadly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can say what I've got to say better if I stand," -replied the Elder tersely. "Of course you'll resign!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A look of intense surprise crossed the face of Hampstead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Resign what?" he asked, with raised brows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, the pulpit of All People's!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister stared in amazement. Burbeck also -stared, but in impatience, during an interval of silence -in which Hampstead had full opportunity to weigh again -the manner of his visitor and appraise its meaning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," the young man replied within a minute, firmly -but almost without inflection, "I shall not resign."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then," declared Burbeck aggressively, "the pulpit -of All People's will be declared vacant." The Elder's -chin was raised, and implacable resolution was -photographed upon his features.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again Hampstead paused, and weighed and sounded -the really sterling character of this honest old man, whose -pride was as inflexible and undeviating as the rule of his -moral life. He saw him not as a fanatical vengeance, -but as a father. He thought of Rollie, of the man's -pride in his son, and of what a crushing blow it would be -to him to know the plight in which that son really stood -to-day. It brought to him the memory of something he -had read somewhere: "The more you do for a man, the -easier it is to love him and to forgive him." His feeling -now was not of resentment, but of sympathy. He felt -very sorry for the Elder and for the position in which he -stood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Brother Burbeck," he reproached softly, "All -People's would not do that. You would not let them do -that. When you have stopped to think, you would not -let me resign even. If I am convicted by a jury, I should -have to resign; but a jury would not convict, I think. -Besides, many things can happen before that. My -accuser, who knows I am innocent, might relent. It is even -more conceivable that a condition might arise under -which the thief could speak out, and I should be vindicated."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The upper lip of Burbeck curled till it showed a tooth -and then straightened out again. The minister -continued to speak:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To resign now would amount to a confession of -guilt. To force me to resign would be an act of treachery. -I am guilty of nothing, proven guilty of nothing. -I am assailed because of the whimsical caprice of a -half-crazed woman. I am temporarily helpless before that -assault because I am faithful to my vows as a minister of -All People's, vows which I took kneeling, with your -hand upon my head. In spirit I am unscathed, as your -own observations must show you. If my reputation is -wounded, it is a wound sustained in the course of my -duty, and it is the part of All People's and every -member of it to rally valiantly to my support. If I were not -persuaded that they would do this, I should be gravely -disheartened."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The manner in which Hampstead spoke was clearly -disconcerting to the Elder. He felt again that consciousness -of moral superiority before which he had bowed -until bowing had become a habit. But now he had more -information. Reason stiffened the back of prejudice. -He knew that this assumption of the minister was a -pose. His conviction was this time strong enough to -avert its spell; and he answered unmoved, except to -deeper feeling, with still harsher utterance:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then Hampstead, you will be disheartened! All -People's shall never support you again. I have called -a meeting of the official board for to-night. I shall -present a resolution declaring the pulpit vacant. If they -recommend it, it will be acted upon to-morrow morning -by the congregation. If they do not receive it, I shall -myself bring it before the congregation."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A look of deepening pain crossed the features of the -minister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not to-morrow," he pleaded, his voice choking -strangely; "not to-morrow. I have been counting -greatly on to-morrow. It has been a hard week. -Man!" and Hampstead suddenly arose, "man, have you -not heart enough to realize what this has been to me. I -long passionately for the privilege of standing again in -the pulpit of All People's. I want them to see how -undaunted in spirit I am. I want them to judge for -themselves the mark of conscious innocence upon my face. -I want to feel myself once more under the gaze of a -thousand pairs of eyes, every one of which I know is -friendly. I want the whole of Oakland to know that my -church is solidly behind me; that though in a Court of -Justice I am 'Held to Answer', in the Court of the Lord -and before the jury of my own church, I stand approved, -with the very stigma of official shame recognized as a -decoration of honor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead had walked around the desk. He lifted -his hand in appeal and sought to lay it upon the shoulder -of the Elder to express the sympathy and the need of -sympathy which he felt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Burbeck deliberately moved out of reach, replying -sternly and perhaps vindictively:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hampstead! You do not appear to appreciate your -position. You will never again stand in the pulpit of All -People's. That is one sacrilege which you have committed -for the last time. More than that, I hold it to be -my duty to God to wring from your own lips the secret -of the man whom you are shielding, and I shall find a -way to do it! I—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the man's feeling had overmastered his speech. -His body shook, his face was purple with the vehemence -of anger. He lifted his hand as if to call down an -imprecation when words had failed him, then abruptly -turned, unwilling to trust himself to further speech, and -made for the outside door. It closed behind him with -a bang that left the key rattling in the lock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps this noise and the sound of the Elder's clumping, -heavy feet as they went down the steps, prevented -the minister from hearing the chugging of a motor-car -as it was brought to a stop in front.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elder Burbeck, hurrying directly across the street to -relieve his feelings by getting away quickly from what -was now a house of detestation, almost ran into the huge -black shape drawn up before the curb. He backed away -and lunged around the corner of the car too quickly to -notice the figure that emerged from it, or his emotions -might have been still more hotly stirred.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead, sitting at his desk, trying to think calmly -of this new danger which threatened him, and to reflect -upon the irony of the circumstance by which the father -of the man and the husband of the mother he was risking -everything to protect, should become the self-appointed -Nemesis to hurl him from his pulpit and wrest the secret -from his lips, heard faintly the ring at the front door, -heard the door close, and an exclamation from his sister -in the hall, followed by silence which, while lasting -perhaps no more than a few seconds, was quite long enough -for him to forget, in the absorption of his own thoughts, -that some one had entered the house. Hence he started -with surprise when the inner door was opened, and Rose -appeared, her white, strained features expressing both -fright and hate. She closed the door carefully behind -her and whispered hoarsely: "That—that woman is here!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-terms-of-surrender"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXXVII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE TERMS OF SURRENDER</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"What woman?" asked Hampstead, in disinterested -tones, too deeply absorbed in the half cynical reflection -which the mission of Elder Burbeck had induced to -realize that there was but one woman to whom his sister's -manner could refer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That—that woman!" replied Rose again, unable to -bring herself to mention the name.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh," exclaimed her brother absently, but starting up -from his reverie. "Oh, very well; show her in," he -directed. His tone and gesture indicated that nothing -mattered now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rose was evidently surprised at her brother's instruction -and for once inclined to protest the supremacy of his -will.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are not going to see her again?" she argued.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know of no one who should be in greater need of -seeing me," John rejoined, with sadness and reproach -mingled in equal parts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But alone? Think of the danger!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Seeing her alone has done about all the harm it could -do," the brother replied, with a disconsolate toss of his -hands, while the drawn look upon his face became more -pronounced. "Show her in!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rose turned back with a cough eloquent of dissenting -judgment and left the door flung wide. John at his -distance sensed her feeling of outrage in the fierce rustling -of her skirts as she receded down the hall, and presently -heard her voice saying icily: "The open door!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister smiled, with half-guilty satisfaction. -His sister had refused Miss Dounay the courtesy of her -escort to the study. He suspected that Rose had even -refused to look at the visitor again, but having indicated -the direction in which the open door stood, had whisked -indignantly beyond into her own preserves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The hour was now something after sunset, and the -room was half in gloom. The actress paused inside the -door, standing stiffly. Hampstead sat before his desk, -his elbows on the arms of his chair, his hands hanging -limp, his shoulders drooping, his eyes cast down and -fixed. He was again thinking. He had a good many -things to think about. The coming of the actress -brought one more. He was not utterly despondent, but -he had been brought to the verge of catastrophe; perhaps -beyond the verge. The woman against whom he had -done no wrong, and who had brought him to the precipice, -now stood in his room, the place of all places in -which he could feel the desolation creeping round his soul -like rising waters about a man trapped by the tide in -some ocean cavern. But the minister was not now thinking -of that. Instead his mind recalled wonderingly that -fleeting picture of this woman in court, with her eyes -gleaming savagely at Searle and crouching like a tigress -about to spring.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As if to call attention to her presence, the actress -swung the door noiselessly toward the jamb, until the -lock caught it with an audible and decisive snap. The -minister reached out a hand and touched a button that -flooded the room with light.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Dounay was clad exactly as she had appeared -in court, except that she was more heavily veiled, so that -the prying light revealed no more of her features than -the sparkle of an eye. Hampstead had not risen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well!" he said, quietly but emotionlessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," she replied, in a low, affirmative voice, exactly -as if in answer to a question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why did you do it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead asked the question abruptly, but very -quietly, and accompanied it with a gravity of expression -and a gesture slight but so inclusive that it comprehended -the entire avalanche which had been released upon him -during the six days which had passed since he had talked -with this woman in the limousine upon the moonlit point -above the city.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before replying, the actress raised both hands and -lifted her veil. The disclosure was something of a -revelation. The features were those of Marien Dounay, but -they were changed. There had been always something -royal in Marien's glances, but the royal air was gone -now: something dominant in her personality, but the -dominance had departed. The suggestion, too, of -smouldering fire in her eyes was absent; instead there -appeared a liquescent, quivering light, in which suffering -and the comprehension that comes with suffering combined -to suggest helpless appeal rather than the old, -imperial air.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This softening of expression had extended to her -mouth as well. The lips, as red, as full of invitation as -ever, were more pliant; they trembled and formed -themselves into tiny undulating curves which suggested and -then reinforced the imploring light of the eyes. Her -beauty was more appealing because it was no longer -commanding, but entreating.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why did you do it?" the minister repeated, when his -eyes had completed his appraisal, and the woman was -still eloquently silent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because I loved you," she answered briefly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her declaration was accompanied by an attempt at a -smile that was so brave and yet so faltering that it was -rather pitiful. But Hampstead, looking at the beautiful -shell of this woman who had so vindictively hurled him -down, was not in a mood to feel pity. Instead he was -merely incredulous.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Love?" he asked cynically, rising from his seat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," exclaimed the woman with convulsive -eagerness, as if her voice choked over speaking what her -lips, by the traditional modesty of her sex and the -mountain of her pride and self-will, had been too long -forbidden to utter. "Yes, I have always loved you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With this much of a beginning, excitedly and with the -air of one whose course was predetermined, the actress -plucked off her hat, stabbed the pin into it, and tossed -it upon the window seat; then nervously stripped the -gloves from her hands; all the while hurrying on with a -sort of defensive vehemence to aver:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have loved you from the first moment when you -held me in your arms long enough for me to feel the -electric warmth of your personality. You roused, -kindled, and enflamed me! The sensation was delicious; -but I resented it. It offended my pride. I had never -been overmastered. You overmastered me without -knowing it. I hated you for it. You were so—so -unsophisticated; so good, so simple, so ready to worship, -to admire, to ascribe the beauties of my body to the -beauties of my soul. I hated you for that, for my soul -was less beautiful than my body, and I knew it. I -resisted you and yielded to you; I hated you and loved -you; I spurned you and wanted you.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were so awkward, so impossible; you had so -much of talent and knew so little how to use it. It -seemed to me the very mockery of fate that my heart -should fasten its affection upon you. I tried to break the -spell, and could not. I yielded to my heart. I had to -love you, to let myself adore you.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought of taking you with me, but the way was -too long; yours was more than talent—far more; it was -genius, but buried deep and scattered wide. It would -have taken a lifetime to chisel it out and assemble it in -the perfect whole of successful art. I shrank before the -treadmill task.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And something else—I was jealous of you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead, who despite his incredulity had been -listening attentively, raised his eyebrows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Jealous of the artist you might become. Your genius -when it flowered would overtop mine as your character -overtops mine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The speaker paused, as if to mark the effect of her -words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go on," urged Hampstead impatiently, and for the -first time betraying feeling. "In the name of God, -woman, if you have one word of justification to speak, -let me hear it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have it," Miss Dounay rejoined, yet more -impetuously, "in that one word which I have already -spoken—love!" She paused, passed her hand across her brow, -and again resumed the thread of her story, still speaking -rapidly but with an increase of dramatic emphasis.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then came the final ecstasy of pain. You loved me. -You demanded me. You charged me with loving you. -You told me it was like the murder of a beautiful child to -kill a love like ours. You argued, persuaded, -demanded—compelled—almost possessed me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The woman's face whitened, her eyes closed, and she -reeled dizzily under the spell of a memory that swept -her into transports.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," replied the minister quietly, "you killed our -beautiful child."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No! No!!" she exclaimed, thrusting out her hands -to him. "Do not say that! I only exposed it—to the -vicissitudes of years, to absence and to a foul slander -which my own lips breathed against myself! But I did -not kill it! I did not kill it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At any rate, it is dead," replied the man, his voice -as sadly sympathetic as it was coolly decisive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I will make it live again," the woman exclaimed -desperately. "I love you, John! Oh, God, how I love you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She endeavored to reach his neck with her arms, but -the minister stepped back, and she stood wringing them -emptily, a look in her eyes as if she implored him to -understand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the minister was still unresponsive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was a queer way for love to act," he protested, -and again with that comprehensive gesture which called -accusing notice to the ruin pulled down upon him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But will you not understand?" she pleaded. "It -was the last desperate resource of love. I could not reach -the real you. I tried for weeks. I endured insufferable -associations. I assumed distasteful interests—all -to put myself in your company; to keep you in mine; to -create those proximities, those environments and -situations in which love grows naturally. Again and again I -thought that love was springing up. But I was -disappointed. You did not respond. What I thought at first -was response was only sympathy. To you I was no -longer a woman. I was a subject in spiritual pathology.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When I saw this, first it irritated, then maddened -me. I knew that you were not yourself, that your -environment had insulated you. That you were so -interested in the part which you were playing,—so absorbed -by the duty of being a public idol, that you could not -be yourself, the man, the flesh, the heart, I know you are.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In desperation I resolved to strip you, to hurl you -down, to rob you of the public regard, of your church, -of everything; to strip you until you were nothing but the -man who once held me in his arms, his whole body -quivering, and demanding with all his nature to possess me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the woman spoke, her voice had risen, and a -half-insane enthusiasm was gleaming on her face, while her -fingers reached restlessly after the minister who, as -unconsciously as she advanced, receded until he stood -cornered against the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now," she continued, in her frenzied exaltation of -mood, "it is done! You see how easily it was -accomplished. Nothing should be so disillusioning, so -reawakening to you as to observe how light is your hold -upon this community, how selfish and insincere was all -this public adulation. I, a stranger almost, of whom -these people knew nothing, was able, with a ridiculously -impossible charge, to brush you from your eminence like -a fly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of what worth has it all been? Of what worth all -that you can do for people like these? Your very church -is turning against you. It will cast you out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A shade had crossed the brow of Hampstead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You think that?" he asked defiantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know it," Marien replied aggressively. "That -square-headed old Elder came to see me this afternoon. -Shaking his hand was like taking hold of a toad. Ugh! -He wanted to pry into your past through me, the old -reprobate!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hush! I will not hear him defamed. He is an -honorable and a well-meaning man, against whose character -not one word can be breathed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marien's eyes flashed. Impatient and regardless of -interruption, she continued as though Hampstead had -not spoken.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And he, the father of the man you are suffering to -shield, is to be the first to take advantage of your -misfortune. The old Pharisee! I nearly told him who the -real thief was."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Dounay!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister's exclamation was short and sharp, like a -bark of rage. His face was drawn until his mouth was -a seam, and his eyes had shrunk to two shafts of light, -"Miss Dounay! That is God's secret. If you had -spoken, I should have—" He ceased to speak but held -up hands that clenched and unclenched.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The actress was feeling confident now. She had -goaded this man to rage. Beyond rage might lie -weakness and surrender. She threw back her head and -laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I will finish it for you. You would have been -inclined to strangle me; but I did not tell him. Yet not -for your reason, but for mine. So long as you rest under -the charge, your enemies gnash; your friends turn from -you. Instead of being insulated from me by all, you are -insulated from all by me. There is no one left but me. -I love you. I am beautiful, rich, with the glamour of -success upon me. I can override anything; defy anything. -I can be yours—altogether yours. You can be -mine—altogether mine. You can leave these shallow, -ungrateful gossips and scandalmongers to prey upon each other, -while you and I go away to an Eden of our own."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The actress paused, breathless and again to mark -effects. The minister's face had resumed its normal -benignity of expression. He was gazing at her thoughtfully, -contemplatively. Marien took fresh hope, knowing -upon second thought now, as she had known all -along, that she could not successfully tempt this man by -a life of mere luxurious emptiness. Falling into tones -of yet more confiding intimacy, she continued:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Besides, John, I am not jealous of your genius any -more. My love has surged even over that. You have -still a great dramatic career before you. You shall come -into my company. You shall have every opportunity. -Within two years you shall be my leading man; within -five, co-star with me. Think of it. Your heart is still -in the actor's art. Acting is religion. After God, the -actor is the greatest creator. He alone can simulate -life. The stage is the most powerful pulpit. Come. -We will write your life's story into a play. We will play -the faith and fortitude which you have shown into the -very soul of America, like a bed of moral concrete! -Are you not moved at that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She paused, standing with head upon one side, and the -old, alluring, coaxing glances stealing up from beneath -the coquettish droop of her lids.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," Hampstead replied seriously. "I am not -moved by it at all. Had you made this speech to me five -years ago, I should have been in transports. To-day the -art of living appeals to me beyond the art of acting. I -have no doubt I feel as great a zest, as great a creative -thrill in standing true in the position in which you have -placed me as you ever can in the most ecstatic raptures -of the mimetic art. No, Marien," and his tone was -conclusive, "it makes no appeal to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The beautiful creature, perplexity and disappointment -mingling on her face, stood for a moment nonplussed. -The expression of alert and confident resourcefulness -had departed. Her intelligence had failed her. Yet -once more the old smile mounted bravely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But there still remains one thing," she breathed -softly, leaning toward him. "That is I. Everything -you have got is gone, or going. I have taken it away -from you that I might give you instead myself. You -had no room for me last week. You have nothing else -but me now. It hurt me to give you pain. I hate Searle. -I could have torn his tongue out yesterday. But you will -forgive me, John. I did it for love."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her utterance was indescribably pathetic—indescribably -appealing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not to blame that I love you. You are to blame. -No, the God that constituted us is to blame."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her tones grew lower and lower. The spirit of -humbled pride, of chastened submission, of helpless want -entered more and more into the expression of her face and -the timbre of her soft voice, while the very outlines of -her figure seemed to melt and quiver with the intensity -of yearning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It has been hard to humble myself in this way to -you," she confessed. "I tried to win you as once I -won you, as women like to win their lovers. But I am -not quite as other women. I have to have you! My -nature is imperious. It will shatter itself or have its -will. I shattered your love to gain my ambition's goal. -And now I have shattered your career to gain your love -again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead, though his consideration was growing for -the woman, could not resist a shaft of irony.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That was a sacrifice you took the liberty of making -for me," he suggested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, don't you see, it made me possible for you -again," and the actress smiled with that obtuseness which -was pitiful because it would not see defeat. She drew -closer to him now, well within reach of his arm, and stood -perfectly still, her hands clasped, her bosom heaving -gently, a thing of rounded curves and wistful eyes, the -figure of passionate, submissive, appealing love, -hoping—desiring—waiting—to be taken.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet the minister did not take her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But whatever agonies of lingering suspense, of dying -hope, and rising despair may have passed through the -indomitable woman as she stood in this pose of vain and -helpless waiting, there was yet a spirit in her that would -not surrender because it could not.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With eyes mournfully searching the depths of the face -before her, she began her last appeal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And yet, John, there is a sacrifice that I am willing -to make that is all my own and none of yours. I will -renounce my own ambition, abandon the stage, cancel -my engagements, give up that for which I have bartered -everything a woman has to give but one thing. I have -kept that one thing for you alone. The name of Marien -Dounay shall disappear. I will be Alice Higgins again. -I will be not an artist but a wife. I will be the associate -of your work. You must go from here, of course. I -have made your remaining impossible. But we will find -some place where men and women need the kind of thing -that you can do. It is a great need. There is a sort of -glory in your work which I have not been too blind to -see. My bridal flowers shall be the weeds of humble -service. I will employ my art to bring cheer into homes -of poverty, freshness and brightness to the sick. I will -try to be God's replica of all that you yourself are. I say -I will try!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had raised her face now and was searching his -eyes again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will do all of this, eagerly, joyously, fanatically, -John Hampstead, if it will make it possible for you to -love me—as once you loved me," she concluded, with -the last words barely audible and sounding more like -heart throbs than human speech.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead, looking levelly into her face, saw that the -woman spoke the truth, that she was absolutely sincere.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She saw that he saw it, and with a gesture of mute -appeal threw out her hands to him. But they gathered -only air and fell limply to her side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister, although his manner expressed a world -of sympathy, shook his head sadly. Marien's face grew -white, and the red of her lips almost disappeared. A -look of blank terror came into her eyes, while one hand, -with fingers half-closed, stole upward to the blanched -cheek, and the other was pressed convulsively against -her breast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have my answer—John!" she whispered hoarsely, -after an interval. "I have my answer!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Marien," he replied, sorrowfully but decisively, -"you have your answer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her eyes, always eloquent, and now with a look of -terrible hurt in them, suffused quickly, and it seemed -that she would burst into tears and fling herself weakly -upon the man she loved so hopelessly. Instead, -however, only a shiny drop or two coursed down the cheeks -which continued as white as marble; and she held -herself resolutely aloof, but balancing uncertainly until all -at once her rounded figure seemed to wilt and she would -have fallen, had not the minister thrown an arm about -the tottering form and with gentle brotherliness of -manner helped her to a seat in the Morris chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a considerable time she sat with her face in her -hands, silent but for an occasional dry, eruptive sob.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead, standing back with arms folded and one -hand making a rest for his chin, looked on helplessly, -realizing that for the first time he was studying this -complex personality with something like real comprehension.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While he gazed a purpose appeared to stir again in the -disconsolate figure. The dry sobs ceased, and the body -straightened till her head found its rest upon the back -of the chair; but there the woman relaxed again in -seeming total exhaustion with eyes closed and lips slightly -parted. Hampstead drew a little closer, as if in tribute -to this determined nature which now obviously fought -with its grief as it had fought to gain the object of its -attachment—indomitably. He had again the feeling -which had come to him before, that she was greater, was -worthier than he.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How I have made you suffer!" Marien exclaimed -abruptly, at the same time opening her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," the minister confessed frankly, while the lines -of pain seemed to chisel themselves deeper upon his face -with the admission, "you have indeed made me suffer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can you ever, ever forgive me?" she asked, lifting -her hand appealingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a small hand and lily white, with slim and tapering -fingers. The minister took it in his and found it as -soft as before,—but chilled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he said, gravely and calculatingly, "I do -forgive you. The ruin has been almost complete; but I am -strong enough to build again!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh," she exclaimed eagerly, starting up, "do you -think you can?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he assured her stoutly, "I know it." He was -beginning to feel sorrier for her than for himself. -"You, too," he suggested gently, "must begin to build -again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again her features whitened, and she fell back, pressing -her brow with a gesture of pain and bewilderment, a -suggestion of one who wakes to find one's self in chaos. -It seemed a very long time that she was silent, but with -lines of thought upon her brow and the signs of strengthening -purpose gradually again appearing about her mouth -and chin. When she spoke it was to say with determination:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; and I, too, am strong enough to build again. -In these silent minutes I have been thinking worlds and -worlds of things. I have lost everything—yet everything -remains—and more. My art shall be my -husband; and I will be a greater actress than ever. I shall -play with a greater power, inspired and informed by the -love which I have lost. I was never tender enough -before. The critics charged me with hardness; I hated -them for it. I could not understand them. Now I -know. I could never play but half a woman's heart. I -was too selfish, too proud, too imperious. I regarded -love too lightly. That mistake will be impossible now. -I know that love is all and all. There is no ecstasy of -love's delight of which my imagination cannot conceive; -there is no despair which the loss of love may produce -that my experience will not have fathomed before this -poignant ache in my heart is done."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At first John recoiled a little at this talk of a utilitarian -extraction from her bitter experience and his; yet -he reflected that it was like the woman. It was but the -outcrop of the dominant passion. Since girlhood she -had seen herself solely in terms of relation to her art; -therefore this attitude now indicated, not a lack of -fineness, but her almost noble capacity for converting -everything to the ultimate object of the artist. Without such -capacity for abandon, there was, he reflected, no supreme -artist; and, he reasoned further, no supreme minister—or -man, even. To this extent and in this moment, -Marien's bearing in defeat was a lesson and a spur to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall go widowed to my work," she went on to -say, "but it will be a greater work than I could have done -before. Then I had an ambition. Now I have a -mission! To show women—and men too—the worth and -weight and height and depth and paramount value of love."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead was again deeply impressed with her enormous -resiliency of spirit. The woman's heart had been -torn to pieces; yet while each nerve and fiber of it was a -pulse of pain, she was purposing to bind the thing -together and let its every throb be a word of warning to -womankind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I learned it from you," she explained, almost as if -she had read his thoughts. "I understand now the -exalted mood in which you spoke a few minutes ago. I am -sorry that I have lost you; but I am not sorry that I have -hurled you down, since it leaves revealed a nobler figure -of a man than I had thought existed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead shuddered, in part at his own pain, in part -at the ease with which she uttered the sentiment, because -this woman could really never know how much his fall -had cost him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Each of us in life I fear must be held to answer for -his own obtuseness," he suggested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But that is not all we are held to answer for," Miss -Dounay replied with sudden perception. "We must pay -the penalty of the obtuseness of others."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah!" exclaimed the minister quickly. "There you -stumbled upon one of the greatest truths in religion, -the law of vicarious suffering. We are each compelled, -whether we will or not, to suffer for the sins of others. -If we, you or I, mere humanity that we are, can so -manage such suffering that it becomes a redemptive influence -over the life of the one who caused it, we have done in a -small and distant way the thing which the Son of Man -did so perfectly for all the world."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see," she exclaimed eagerly, pressing her hands -together in a sort of rapture. "It is that which you have -done for me. You have suffered for my sin, and you -have so managed the suffering that you have taken away -some of my selfishness and will send me out of here, as -I said before, not with an ambition, but with a mission."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had risen, and though her manner was still -subdued, it was again the manner of self-possession. Yet -the new mood into which she had passed, and the new -light of spiritual enthusiasm which had come upon her -face, in no wise wiped out the impression that in the hour -past she had tasted the bitterest disappointment that a -woman can know, had plunged to the very depths of -despair, and was still under its somber cloud. Indeed it -was the fierceness of the conflagration within her which -had burned out so swiftly at least a part of that dross of -selfishness of which she had spoken, and clarified her -vision, so that their two minds had leaped quickly from -one peak of thought to another, to come suddenly on -embarrassed silence just because all words, all deeds even, -seemed suddenly futile to express what each had felt and -was now feeling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the conversation lapsed momentarily, both appeared -to find relief in trivial interests. The minister straightened -the books in the rack upon his desk, then looked at -his watch and noted that it was fifteen minutes to seven -and reflected that seven was his dinner hour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The actress gave her hair a few touches with her hands, -and stood adjusting her hat before the mirror above the -mantel. But the veil was still raised. Hampstead -watched these operations silently, moved by evidences of -the change in the woman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have forgiven me," she began again, noticing -in the mirror that his eye was upon her; "but I do not -forgive myself. My first mission is to repair the damage -which I have done to you. I will go immediately to -Searle and tell him the truth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead's mouth fell open, and a single step -carried him half way across the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you must not tell Searle nor any one else the -truth!" he affirmed vehemently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was Marian's turn to be surprised.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean that I am not to undo the wrong that I -have done you?"' she asked in amazement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not that way," he answered, with deliberate shakings -of the head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean that you are to stand under the stigma -which now rests upon you?" she insisted, with a gleam -of the old imperious manner. "Certainly not! I have -done wrong enough! It cannot be undone too quickly. -I shall tell the truth to Searle. I shall gather the -reporters about me and spare myself nothing. I will -reveal the whole horrible plot; I will confess that Searle -was duped, and that you were grossly conspired against -by me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again Hampstead, meeting that level glance, knew -that the woman spoke in absolute sincerity. She was -entirely capable of doing it. Once a course commended -itself to her judgment, she had already shown that she -would spare nothing to follow it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you forget young Burbeck," he exclaimed. -"Your exposure would mean his exposure."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marien's eyes and tone both expressed her meaning, -though she added incisively: "He is no reason why you -should linger under this cloud."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead gazed at the woman doubtfully, speculating -as to what argument would make the strongest appeal -to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"His mother," he began gravely, "is my dearest -friend. She is the most saintly woman I have ever -known. One year of her life to this community is worth -more than a score of years of mine—than all of mine. -Let her know in private that her son is the thief, and she -would grieve to death in a week. Let her know suddenly, -with the force of public exposure, and it would -kill her instantly, like an electric shock."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But this note proved the wrong one. Marien instantly -took higher ground.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know that woman," she replied. "I have sensed -her spirit. You do her injustice. If she knew the facts, -she would speak, though it killed her and ruined her son, -rather than see you endure for a single day what you are -suffering now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead knew better than the speaker how true this was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But there is another reason, a higher reason," he -began slowly, with a grave significance that caught -Marian's attention instantly, "the soul of Rollie Burbeck!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister had breathed rather than spoken these -last words. They had in them a sense of the awe he felt -at what hung upon his actions now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For an instant, the keen eyes of the woman searched -the depths of Hampstead's own, as if she was making -sure that what she heard and understood with this new -and spiritual intuition which had come so swiftly out of -her experience, was confirmed by what she saw.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean," she asked, only half credulous, "that -you will suffer for his sake as you have suffered for mine, -until new character begins to grow in him just as a new -objective begins to stir in me? You mean that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead nodded. "That is my hope," he said solemnly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!" Marien sighed, with a prolonged aspirate note -which expressed reverence, awe, and astonishment. -"But the charges? They will be pressed. You will be -held—convicted—imprisoned!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I cannot think it," argued John soberly. "A way -will appear to avoid that. Yet we must contemplate the -worst. One thing is sure," and his voice appeared to -increase in volume without an increase of tone, "one -thing is sure: In the position in which you have placed -me I must remain until the thing for which I am -standing has been accomplished—however long that -takes—and if the wrong you have done to me confers any -obligation upon you, it is to keep your lips sealed till I give -you leave to open them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Dounay, more humbled by this steadfast -magnanimity of soul which could refuse vindication when it -was offered than awed by the sudden force of -self-assertion which Hampstead manifested, looked her -submission.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Man!" she exclaimed impulsively, seizing both his -hands for an instant. "I revere you. You are not the -flesh I thought. You have altered greatly. Yours was -not a pose. It is genuine. I am reconciled a little to -my loss. You are not mine because I was not worthy -to be yours!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead made a deprecating, repressive gesture.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me finish," she protested. "I am even less -humiliated. The thing required to charm you was a thing -I did not possess!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Beauty is a great possession," Hampstead smiled. -"I have been and am sensible to it. I was sensible to -your beauty to the last. The woman I love is beautiful."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The woman you love!" Marien's whole manner -changed. Her face took on the tigerish look. "There -is some one else then? At least," she added -reproachfully, "you might have spared me this."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was necessary," the minister replied quietly, "if -we were really to understand each other."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The gravity of the man's tone, as well as some subtle -recovery within herself, checked the tigerish impulse. -Swiftly it gave way to pain and humility again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You—you are to marry?" she faltered weakly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," he replied, with ineffable sadness. "This—" -and again that comprehensive gesture which he had used -so frequently to indicate the catastrophe which had come -upon him, "this has dashed that hope entirely!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The actress stood completely confounded. Within -herself she wondered why she did not fly into a jealous -passion. Surely she was changing; she felt half -bewildered, half distrustful of her own moods in which she -had believed so surely before. She was also completely -staggered by this crowning revelation of the capacity of -the man for sacrifice. Instead of the jealous passion, she -felt a sisterly kind of sympathy; but it was only after a -very considerable interval that Marien trusted herself to -ask with trembling voice:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She is very—very beautiful—this—this woman -whom you love?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The question was put very softly, meditatively almost.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To me, yes," replied the minister with emphasis. "I -think you would say so too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were engaged?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not when I met you first; but there had been a bond -of very close sympathy between us. After you were -gone, I felt that I had never really loved you; and my -heart fastened itself on her. I loved her and told her -so. But I felt it my duty to tell her the truth about you. -Manlike, I thought she would comprehend. Woman-like, -she comprehended more than I thought. She -believed me weak and uncertain. She loved me still, but -with a pain of disappointment in her heart. She put my -love upon a kind of probation. The probation has lasted -five years. It was almost finished. After what the -papers have published in the past few days, you can -imagine that now all is over."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you will write to her? You will see her? You -will explain?" Marien questioned in self-forgetful eagerness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Explain," he smiled sadly. "What a futility! -What explanation could there be after what I had told -her? You know a woman's heart. More firmly than -any other, she would be forced to an implicit belief in -what the newspapers have falsely intimated concerning -our relations in the past few weeks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I will go to her myself!" Marien exclaimed -impetuously. "I will tell her the truth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think she would believe you?" he asked -frankly. "Could you expect any woman to believe in -your sincerity under such circumstances, upon such a -mission? You would not be able to believe it yourself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are right!" Marien admitted after a moment -of thought. "Once away from the restraining influence -of your character, my true nature would reveal itself. -I should hate her! I do hate her! No, I could not go!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And so, you see,"—John did not finish the sentence -but had recourse to a helpless smile and a pathetic shrug -of the shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marien lowered her veil. The interview was running -on and on. It must come to an end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It all becomes uncanny," she exclaimed. "There is -too much converging upon your heart. There must -come a rift in the clouds. I have submitted to your -compelling altruism but only for the present. If something -does not happen within a reasonable limit of time, I shall -positively and dangerously explode!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John smiled at the vehemence with which she spoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But in the meantime—silence!" he adjured impressively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," she assented reluctantly. "But at the same -time I shall not know one gleam of happiness, one -moment's freedom from mental anguish until your -vindication is flung widely to the world."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But in the meantime, silence!" reiterated John obstinately.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And in the meantime," she consented more resignedly, -"silence!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good night, Marien," said the minister, putting out -his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good night, Doctor Hampstead," she replied, seizing -that hand impulsively, then flinging it from her again as -she turned, without another glance, to the door. It -closed behind her softly, considerately almost, but with -that same decisive snap of the lock which had shut her -in three quarters of an hour before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead stood a moment in reflection. She had -come and she had gone, leaving behind a great sense of -relief, of complexities unraveled, of good accomplished -and of further danger averted. Of one thing he felt -sure now; he would never go to prison. A way would -be found to avoid that. Her vindictive malice had spent -itself and been turned to an attempt at co-operation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he was still under clouds: one the verdict of Judge -Brennan, "Held to Answer"; the other less black, but -larger and murkier, the cloud of public condemnation; -and for the present he must remain under both. Besides -which, there was his church and Elder Burbeck to consider.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And to-morrow was Sunday!</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="sunday-in-all-people-s"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXXVIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">SUNDAY IN ALL PEOPLE'S</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Elder Burbeck did not make good his threat. -Hampstead stood again in the pulpit of All People's on -Sunday, as his heart had so passionately desired.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the reality disappointed. The contrast between -this day and last Lord's day was pitiful. To be sure, the -church was packed; but not to worship. The people—curious -and wooden-hearted—had come to be witnesses -to a spectacle, to see a man go through the business of a -rôle which his character no longer fitted him to enact. -The service and the sermon were one long agony. John -spoke upon the duty of being true. His words came back -upon him like an echo.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As for Elder Burbeck, he had only halted. The minister, -from considerations of delicacy which were promptly -misconstrued, having remained away from the called -meeting of the Official Board on Saturday night, all -things in that session had gone to Burbeck's satisfaction. -He held in his pocket the resolution of the Board, -recommending that the congregation request the resignation -of the pastor of All People's. He might have introduced -this at the close of the sermon, thus turning the ordinary -congregational meeting into a business session; but the -Elder was an expert tactician. He decided to devote the -entire day to a final estimate of just what inroads the -week had made upon the ascendancy of the minister with -his people.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, the manner in which the sermon was -received encouraged him to go forward immediately with -his plans. As the congregation was upon the last verse -of the last hymn, the Elder ascended to the pulpit beside -the minister. He did not look at the minister. He did -not whisper that he had an announcement to make, and -Hampstead did not say at the end of the hymn: "Elder -Burbeck has an announcement to make." This was the -usual form. But it was not followed. Instead, Burbeck, -unannounced, with coarse self-assertion, made the -announcement:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There will be a business meeting of the church on -Monday night to consider matters of grave import to the -congregation. Every member is urged to be present."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a grave doubt if the Elder had a right of -himself to call a meeting of the church. Yet the only -man with force enough to voice that doubt was the minister, -and he did not voice it. Instead, he stood quietly -until the announcement was concluded and then invoked -the benediction of God upon all the service, which, of -course, included the announcement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When at the close of the service Doctor Hampstead -undertook to mingle among his people, according to -custom, he found a minority hysterically hearty in their -assurances of confidence, sympathy, and support; but the -majority avoided him. Instead of enduring this and -withering under it, the minister was roused into -something like aggression. By confronting and accosting -them, he forced aloof individuals to address him. He -made his way into groups that did not open readily to -receive him. In all conversations he frankly recognized -his position, made it the uppermost topic, and solicited -opinion and advice. He even eavesdropped a little. -Once people opened their mouths upon the subject, he -was astonished at their frankness. When the sum total -of the impressions thus gathered was organized and -deductions made, he was stunned almost to cynicism by -their results. Of course, no one indicated that they -believed him guilty of theft, and in the main all accepted -his defense as the true defense. But they found him -guilty of folly—a folly with a woman. Whether it was -merely a folly and not a sin, it appeared was not to -greatly alter penalties.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet justice must be done these people. They felt sorry -for their minister and showed it; and they only shrank -from him to avoid showing something else that would -hurt him. They still acknowledged their debts of -personal gratitude to him, but now they experienced a -feeling of superiority. Their weaknesses had overtaken -them in private; his had caught up with him under the -spotlight's glare. They looked upon him with -commiseration, pityingly, but from a lofty height. Besides -which, they accused him of an overt offense. He had -brought shame on All People's. He had preached to -them this morning upon the duty of being true; but he -had himself not been true—to the proud self-interest of -All People's.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This indignant concern for the reputation of All -People's was rather a surprising revelation to Hampstead. -He had fallen into the way of thinking that he -had made All People's; that he and All People's were -one. That the congregation could have any purpose that -did not include his purpose was not thinkable. He had -never conceived of it as a social organism, with -self-consciousness, with pride, with a head to be held up and -a reputation to be sustained. To him All People's was -not a society of persons with a pose. It was an -association of individuals, each more or less weak, more or less -dependent in their spiritual nature upon each other and -upon him; the whole banded together to help each other -and to help others like themselves. He had thought of -himself as the instrument of All People's in its work of -human salvage. But he now discovered that in these -four years All People's had suffered from an over -extension of the ego. It had been spoiled by prosperity and -public approbation, just as other congregations, or -individuals, might be or have been. The admiration of -the members for him as their pastor, their humble -obedience to his will, was in part due, not to his spiritual -ascendancy, not to his conspicuously successful labors as -a helper of humankind in so many different ways, but -to the fact that these activities of the minister won him -that public admiration and approval which shed a glamour -also upon the congregation and upon the individual -members of the congregation. Because of this, they -worshipped him, honored him, and palavered over him to a -point where Hampstead, no doubt as unconsciously as -the congregation and as dangerously, had suffered an -over-extension of his own ego.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But deflation of spirit had come to him swiftly. Now -his own pride and his own self-sufficiency had all been -shot away. If any remained, the effect of this Sunday -morning service was quite sufficient to perform the final -operation of removal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was to preach that night from the text: "If God -is for us, who is against us." He gave up the idea. It -sounded egotistical. He preached instead his farewell -sermon, though without a word of farewell in it, from -the text:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Brethren, even if a man be overtaken in any trespass, -ye who are spiritual restore such a one in a spirit of -gentleness; looking to thyself lest thou also be tempted."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was what the pastor of All People's was trying -to do,—to restore a man. In preaching this sermon, he -forgot that this was his valedictory, forgot himself, -forgot everything but the great mission of spiritual -reconstruction upon which he had labored and proposed to -labor as long as life was in him, no matter what yokes -and scars were put upon him. In it he reached the -oratorical height of his career, which was not necessarily -lofty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But people listened—and with understanding. Some -of them cried a little. It made them reminiscent. The -man himself, now slipping, had once restored them with -great gentleness. All said, "What a pity!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Hampstead, while he spoke, was steeling himself -against the probable desertion of his congregation. He -had a feeling that he could win them back if he tried hard -enough, but he began to doubt that they were worth -winning back. He had really never sought to win them to -himself personally; he would not begin now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Instead, he saw himself cast out. The verdict of the -church on Monday night would also be "Held to Answer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He saw it coming almost gloatingly, and with a fierce -up-flaming of that fanatic ardor which was always in -him. The desire came to him to seize upon the position -in which he stood as a pulpit from which to deliver a -message to the world that greatly needed to be delivered, -to say something that his fate and his life thereafter -might illustrate, and thus make his public shame a greater -witness to the truth than ever his popularity had been. -In one of the loftiest of his moods of exaltation, he strode -homeward from the church.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At ten o'clock, he telephoned the morning papers that -at midnight he would have a statement to give out. -It contained some rather extravagant expressions, was -couched throughout in an exalted strain, and ran as follows:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>AN ADDRESS TO THE PEOPLE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"They tell me that I have stood for the last time in the -pulpit of </span><em class="italics">All People's</em><span>; that on Monday night I shall be -unfrocked by the hands that ordained me; for my -ministerial standing was created by this church which now -proposes to take it away. This act, more than a court -conviction, will seem my ruin. I write to say I cannot -call that ruin to which a man goes willingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is not my soul that hangs in the balance, but -another's. While this man struggles, I declare again that -I will not break in upon him. I can reach out and touch -him; but I will not. He will read this. I say to him: -'Brother, wait! Do not hurry. I can hold your load a -while until you get the grapple on your spirit.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But for saying this, I am cast out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Men observe to me: 'What a pity!' I say to you: -'No pity at all!'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is a minister who would not thus suffer worthy to be -a minister? The conception can be broadened. Is any -man? Is an editor worthy to be an editor, a merchant, -a teacher, a lawyer, a doctor, standing as each must at -sometime where the issue is sharply drawn between -loyalty and disloyalty to truth or trust,—is any of them -truly worthy or truly true, who would not willingly -suffer all that is demanded of me?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It does not require a great man to be true to the clasp -of his hand: nor a minister. I know policemen and -motormen who are that. To be that, upon the human side, -has been almost the sum of my religious practice—not -my profession, but my </span><em class="italics">practice</em><span>. By that habit I have -gained what I have gained—</span><em class="italics">and lost what I have lost</em><span>. -Humbled to the dust, I dare yet to make one boast: I -have not failed in these small human loyalties, except as -my capacities have failed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This last act of mine, which will be regarded as the -consummation of failure, is the greatest opportunity to -be true that I have ever had.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To go forth on foot before this community, held to -answer for my convictions, fills me with a sense of -abandon to immolation upon high altars that is almost -intoxicating.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can almost wish it might never be known whether -I spoke the truth or not about the Dounay diamonds; -that in my death, unvindicated, I might lie yonder on the -hills of Piedmont; that on a simple slab just large enough -to bear it, might be written no name but only this:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'</span><em class="italics">He believed something hard enough to live for it.</em><span>'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish even that you might crucify me, take me out -on Broadway here and nail me to a trolley pole. But -you will not do this. I am not so worthy. You are not -so brave. Those men had the courage of their -convictions who nailed up the Galilean and hurled down with -stones the first martyr. You have not. Courage -to-day survives; but it is reserved for ignoble struggles. -Men are more ready to die for their appetites than to -live for their convictions. Men fear to be uncomfortable, -to be sneered at, to be defeated. Paugh! Defeat is not -a thing to fear. To be untrue is the blackest terror! To -become involved for the sake of one's convictions should -not be regarded as calamity. Yet it is,—in these soft days.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The hope that the fall, even of one so humble and -unimportant as I, may be some slight protest against this -spirit of weakness, takes out the sting and gives me a -delirious kind of joy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would like to have been a great preacher. I am -not. I would I had a tongue of eloquence to fire men -to this passion of mine. I have not. That is the pity! -I was proud and jealous of my position. I have lost it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yet I do not doubt that I shall find a field of usefulness. -Deep as you hurl me down, I do not doubt but that -there are some to whom even if condemned, spurned, -unfrocked—oh, the eternal silliness of that! as if any -decrees of men could affect the standing or potentiality of -a soul—I can come as a welcome messenger of helpfulness. -To them I shall go! They may be found here. -If so, I shall remain here—go in and out—pointed at -as the man who failed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps I can even make failure popular. It ought -to be. There is a great need of failures just now, for -men who will fail for their true success's sake.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The world needs a new standard of appraisal. It -honors the man whose success bulks to the eye. It needs -to be a little more discriminating; to find out why some -men failed, and to honor them because they are failures. -Some of the greatest men in America and in history were -failures. Socrates with his cup was a failure. Jesus -was a failure. It was written on his back in lines of -blistering welts. It was nailed into his palms, stabbed into -his brow, hissed into his ear as he died.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Re-reading at this midnight hour what I have written, -I perceive that it sounds slightly frenzied. But my soul -just now is slightly frenzied. If I wrote calmly, -unegoistically, it would be a lie. What is written is what I -feel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here and there some will approve this document. -More will sneer at it. But it is mine. It is I. I sign it. -It is my last will and testament in this community where -once—daring to boast again—I have been a power.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Friends—and enemies alike!—this final word.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have not grasped much, but this: To be true. -When somebody trusts you worthily, make good. Be -true, children, to the plans and to the hopes of parents. -Be true, lad, to the impetuous girl who has trusted you -with more than she should have trusted you. Be true, -women, to your lovers and your husbands; men to your -wives, your partners, your fellow men, your patrons; to -your talents, your opportunities, your country, your age, -your world! Be true to God! If you have no God, be -true to your highest conception of what God ought to be.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It sounds like a homily. It is a principle. You can -multiply it indefinitely. It runs like a scarlet thread -through religion, and it will go all around the borders of -life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eternal Loyalty is the Price of true Success.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To this conviction I subscribe my name, myself and -everything that still remains to me.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<dl class="docutils"> -<dt class="noindent"><span>"JOHN HAMPSTEAD,</span></dt> -<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><span>"Pastor of All People's Church."</span></p> -</dd> -</dl> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>John felt that he wrote this and that he signed it in -the presence of the Presence. The address and not the -sermon was his valedictory.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-cup-too-full"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XXXIX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE CUP TOO FULL</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>While the Monday morning papers played up the -"Address to the People", in the evening John noticed that -his name had slipped off the front page. This was at once -a relief and a bitterness. It told him that he was done -for; that, as a matter of news, he was only a corpse -waiting for the funeral pyre. That pyre was a matter to -which Elder Burbeck was attending, assisted by a -committee of fellow zealots—male and female—who were -industriously conducting a house-to-house canvass of the -entire membership of All People's during the hours -between Sunday at one and Monday night at eight. -Despite the lofty mood of self-sacrifice into which the man -had worked himself, the knowledge of all this busy -bell-ringing and its sinister purpose operated irritatingly on -the skin of Hampstead. It made his flesh creep with -annoyance that grew toward anger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But in the midst of these creepings, a significant thing -happened. The Reverend William Dudley Rohan, pastor -of the largest, the richest, and by material standards the -most influential protestant congregation in the city, came -in person to call on Hampstead, to shake him by the hand -and say: "Your address had an apostolic ring to it. I -believe in you sincerely."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In John's mail that afternoon there came from Father -Ansley, an influential priest of the Roman Catholic -communion, a letter to similar effect.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Moreover, as the activity of Elder Burbeck developed, -John began to hear more and more from members of his -own congregation who either refused to believe the -charges against him, or, if not so ready to acquit, none -the less refused to desert him now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All of these things seemed definitely to testify that a -wave of reaction was upon its way. They almost gave the -man hope. Yet by the end of an hour of calculation, -John saw that after all it was a small wave. All -People's church had more than eleven hundred members. He -had not heard from one fifth of them. Those who had -communicated or come to press his hand were very -frequently the weak, obscure, and least influential. They -were the "riff-raff", as Burbeck would have called them, -of the congregation. The pastor did not disesteem their -support on this account. Instead he valued it a little -more; yet gave himself no illusions as to its value in a -battle-line.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the same time his friends urged him to organize -against the assaults of Elder Burbeck; to send out -bell-ringing committees upon his own account. Yet he would -not do this. He would not make himself an issue. But -the minister's negatives were not so stout as they had been. -It was one thing to write in a frenzy at midnight how -bravely he would endure his fate. It was another to wait -the creeping hours in passive fortitude until the blow -should fall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By noon he confessed to himself that he was feeling -rather broken. For a week he had eaten little, and that -little nervously, absently, and without enjoyment. His -sleep had been restless and unrefreshing. Strong, -vigorous as he was, reckless as were the draughts that could be -made upon his work-hardened constitution, a fear that it -would fail him now began to agitate the man. He must -be strong—physically. He must bear himself unyielding -as Atlas. His shoulders, instead of sinking, must -stiffen as the still heavier load rolled upon them. But his -mind also must be strong.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was almost mad with thinking on his course, with -trying to reason out some Northwest Passage for his -conscience. Every eventuality had been considered, every -resulting good or injury taken into account. When he -did sleep, dreams had come to him—horrible, portending -dreams that lingered into wakefulness and filled the hours -with vague, tissue-weakening dread. He knew the -meaning of this. His brain was so wearied with thinking of -the perplexities which bristled round him that the very -processes of thought had begun to operate less surely. -Conclusions that should have stood out sharp and clear -became blurred. Doubts and indecisions clamored round -him. Things settled and settled right came trooping -back to demand realignment. This alarmed him more -than anything else,—the fear that the course he had -chosen and which he knew to be right, might seem, in -some moment when his mind passed into a fog, the -wrong course; and he would falter not for lack of will but -because of the maiming of his judgment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He longed for counsel, to talk intimately with some -one, but was afraid, afraid he might get the wrong -advice and follow it. The loyalty of Rose, the judgment -of the Angel of the Chair, he trusted; but himself he -began to mistrust. Mistrusting himself, he dared not talk -at all, lest he either exhibit signs of weakness that would -frighten Rose, or lest, in that weakness, he confess too -much to Mrs. Burbeck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One fear like this and one alarm acted to produce -another until something like panic grew up in his soul. A -small onyx clock was on the mantel. The hands pointed -to one—and then to two—and to three. At eight he -must go to the church and see himself accused by those -whom he loved, and for whom he had labored.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But at half-past three he saw clearly that his intended -course was wrong, that he should defend himself and -speak the truth: that his silence was working greater ill -than good.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The clock tinkled four with this decision still clear in -his mind. But the tinkling sound appeared to ring -another bell deep inside him—a bell that boomed from far, -far away and made him think of some one's definition of -religion, "as a power within us not ourselves that makes -for godliness." That power had spoken out. It revived -the decision of half-past three. His former course was -right. He must not swerve. With a gesture of pain -and terror he flung up his hands to his brow. The -calamity had fallen. His mind was passing under a fog. -Defiantly he tried auto-suggestion to school his will -against a possible reversal in the hour of trial, saying to -himself over and over again: "I will stand! I will -stand! I will stand!" He quoted frequently the words -of Paul: "And having done all, to stand!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At length he fell back limply in his chair. A vast -irksomeness had taken possession of him. He was -tired—tired of thinking of It—tired of waiting for It to come. -Why didn't the clock hurry? The coming of Tayna to -the study alone brought a welcome to his eye. Tayna! -So full of buoyant, blooming youth; so quickly moved to -tears of sympathy; so lightly kindled to smiling, happy -laughter! Tayna, her melting eyes, her red cheeks, her -one intermittent dimple, who flung her long arms about -her uncle and held him close and silently as if he had been -a lover!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But it was only a moment until Tayna too irked the -tortured man. The touch of her cheek upon his cheek and -the aggressive mingling of her thick braids with his own -disheveled locks, once brushed so neat and high, now so -apt to loop disconsolate upon his temples, reminded him -of something quite unbearable but quite unbanishable,—a -vision, and a vision which must be entertained alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stay here and keep shop," her uncle said with sudden -brusqueness, forcing her down into his own chair at -the desk. "I can see no one; talk to no one; hear from -no one. I am going up-stairs!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Up-stairs" meant the long, half-attic room in which -Hampstead slept. It ran the length of the cottage. -There were windows in the gables, and dormers were -chopped in upon the side toward the Bay. At one end, -pushed back toward the eaves, was a bed, fenced from the -eye by a folding screen. Far at the other end was a table, -a student-lamp and a few books. Between lay a long, -rug-strewn space which Hampstead called his "tramping -ground."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here, when he wished to retire most completely from -the public reach, he made his lair. Upon that rug-strewn -space he had tramped out many of the problems of his -ministry. In the past week he had walked miles between -one gable window and the other, and stopped as many -times to gaze out through the dormer windows over -the crested tops of palms to the dancing waters on the Bay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But now he had retreated there, not to be alone, but -because he felt a sudden longing for companionship; and for -a certain and particular companionship. That touch of -Tayna's soft cheek upon his own had brought with -stinging poignancy the recollection of what the presence of -Bessie would be now,—Bessie as she once had been, dear, -loyal, sympathetic, wise; as she had begun to be again -before that last trip east; as she would have been when she -returned and found him still strong and faithful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet now she would never come. She was in Chicago -to-day—no, upon the Atlantic. Last week was her final -week. She had been getting her degree there while his -unfrocking was beginning here. She was attaining her -high hope as he was losing his. He had meant to -telegraph her his congratulations, but he had forgotten it. -That was just as well now. All this hissing of the -poisoned tongues must have poured into her ears. The old -doubts would be revived. She would feel herself shamed, -humiliated, all but compromised by these disclosures, and -she would never see—never communicate with him -again. No letter had come in that last week, no telegram -from the ship's side. That proved it clearly. She was -lost to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet now his church—his liberty—his reputation—nothing -else that he had lost or might lose seemed worth -while. He wanted only her, cared only about her. His -duty had melted into mist. He could not see its -outlines. But there was a face in the mist, her face; and a -form, her form. And he would never see her in any -other way but this way—a vision to haunt and mock -and torture him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thinking these thoughts over and over again, the man -walked steadily from gable's end to gable's end and back -again, until his legs lost all sense of feeling; but still he -walked, and occasionally his fists were clenched and beat -upon his chest, while an expression of agony looked out of -his eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Reverend John Hampstead, pastor of All People's, -a man of some victories and of some defeats, a man of -some strength and of some weaknesses, was fighting his -most important and his hardest battle, and he knew it. -And he was no longer fit. The preliminary days of -battling in the lower spurs and ranges had exhausted him. -The summit was still above. The higher he toiled, the -weaker he grew; the greater need for strength, the less he -had to offer. He felt his purpose sag, his courage -breaking. He had faced too much, and faced it too long and -too solitarily. Others had sympathetically tried to get -into his heart, and he had shut them out. It was a place -which only one could enter, and she was not there. Now -he knew that she would never be there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was the final mockery of his fate. At the time -when he loved her most, when he needed her most, when -before God, he deserved her most, she was most irretrievably -lost. The pang of this, the awful inevitableness of -it, broke him like a reed. From time to time he had -sighed heavily, but now a dry sob shivered in his broad -breast. His shoulders shook, and then his legs crumpled -under him; he was on his knees and sinking lower and -lower, like a man beaten down, blow upon blow, until at -length he lies prostrate before his foes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not that, O God," he sobbed; "not that! I cannot—I -cannot lose her. Leave me, oh, leave me this one -thing! I ask nothing more! Nothing more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was silence for an interval and then the pleadings -began more earnestly, more piteously. "O God, give -me her! Give me love! Give me completeness! Give -me that without which no man is strong, the undoubting -love of an unwavering woman! Give me that and I can -face anything—endure anything!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment his hands, virile and outstretched, -grasped convulsively the far edges of the Indian rug on -which he had fallen, and thrust themselves through the -stoutly woven fabric as if it had been wet paper. Scalding -drops had begun to flow from his eyes like rivers. He -seized the fabric of the rug in his teeth and bit it. He -forced the thick folds against his eyes as if to dam the -flooding tears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is too much! It is too much!" he moaned. "O -God," he reproached, "you have left me; you have left me -alone and far. I have stood, but I am tottering." He -dropped into a sort of vernacular in his blind pleadings. -"I can go, I can go the route, but I cannot go it alone. -Give me her, O God, give me her!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His voice, half-delirious, died out in a final withering -sob, as if the last atom of his strength had gone with this -passionate, hoarse, uttermost plea of his soul. His great -fingers stretching out again to the limit of his arm, -knotted and unknotted themselves and then grew still. -The shoulders, too, were motionless. The face was -turned on one side; the profile of the ridged forehead and -the thrust of nose and chin, so strongly carved, appeared -against the grotesque pattern of the rug as features -delicately chiseled. The eyes were open, tearless now and -staring. They had expression, but it was the expression -of the beaten man. The mouth was parted, and the firm -lines were gone from it. It was the old, loose, flabby -mouth that had once marked the weak spot in the -character of the man. Again the man was weak. He lay so -still that life itself seemed to have gone. The wandering -afternoon breeze that stole in through one gable window -and went romping out at the other played with the mass -of hair upon his brow as indifferently as if it had been a -tuft of grass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Even the man's enemies must have pitied him had they -seen him now. Searle, standing over him, would have -felt a twinge of conscience. Elder Burbeck, before that -spectacle, would at least have paused long enough to -murmur, sincerely, with upturned eyes and a grave shake of -the head, "God be merciful to him, a sinner." But -neither Searle nor Burbeck, nor any other eye was there -to see how he lay nor how long. Perhaps not even Tayna, -crouching on the stairs outside, hearing his sobbings -and venting tear for tear, could have computed the time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Surely the man knew nothing himself except that he -fell asleep and dreamed, this time not horribly, but -felicitously,—a dream of Bessie; that she was coming to him; -that she was there. It was such a beautiful dream. It -took all the strain out of the muscles of his face. -It tickled the flabby mouth into smiles of happiness. It -triumphed over everything else. It made every experience -through which he had gone seem a high and beautiful -experience because it brought him Bessie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A knock at the door awoke him. It was such a cruel -awakening. Bessie was not there. His cheeks were hard -and stiff where tears had dried upon them. His shoulders -and neck ached from the position in which he had slept. -The rug was rumpled. The room was bleak and desolate. -The breeze was chill and gloomy. The situation in which -he stood came to him again with appealing acuteness and -stung his memory like scourging whips. He rose with -pain in his mind, pain in his heart, pain in every tissue -of his body.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But there are worse things than pain. John was -appalled to realize that he had risen a quaking coward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The knock had sounded again. It was a soft knock, but -it echoed loud, like the crack of doom. It stood for the -outside world; it stood for the accusing finger; it stood for -the felon's brand; it stood for the great monster, Ruin, -which threatened him, which terrorized him, which he had -faced courageously, but which at last through the -workings of his own morbid imagination and the tentacles of a -great love, torn blood-dripping from his heart, had -over-awed him. Before this monster he now shrank, cowering -as only six days before he had seen Rollie Burbeck cower. -He said to himself that he, John Hampstead, was the -greater coward. Rollie had faltered in the face of his -crime. He, the priest of God, was faltering in the face -of his duty. He retreated from his own presence aghast -at the thought. He looked about him wildly, and saw his -features in the glass. It was a coward's face. He felt -something stagger in his breast. It was his coward's -heart!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again the knock sounded. Not because he had grown -brave again, but because he had grown too weak to -resist even a knock upon a door, he gave the rug a kick -that half straightened it, and in the tone of one who, -despairing help, bids his torturers advance, he called: -"Come in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But instead of waiting to see who entered, he turned -his back and walked off down the room with slow, -disconsolate stride, head hanging, shoulders drooping, knees -trembling, feet dragging, utterly unmindful to preserve -longer the pose of strength even before the dear -ones whom he wished above all to see him brave and -strong.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the silence of the one who entered that made him -turn slowly, staring, his form lifting itself to its full -height, and a hand rising to sweep the hanging hair from -his eyes as he gazed for a moment in unbelieving -bewilderment and then hoarsely shouted:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bessie! Bessie! Is it you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before the broken, paralyzed man could leap to meet -her, the young woman had flung herself into his arms, -with a cry almost of pain: "John! Oh, John!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He clasped her hysterically, half laughing and half -sobbing: "Thank God! Thank God!" and then, murmuring -incoherently, "It is the answer of the Father! It -is the answer of the Father!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie, the first surge of her emotions over, stood -looking up into John's storm-stressed face, with glistening, -happy eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was evident that all the vapor of her doubt and -misunderstanding had been burned away. She was again the -old Bessie. She had started to him by an instinct of -loyalty, spurred by a love that had refused to die, yet, -womanlike, was still doubting. But the moving picture -which the papers of succeeding days had reeled before her -eyes as her train sped westward; the solemn face of Rose, -the teary eyes of Tayna, whom she had found sitting at -the foot of the stairs outside; and now this glimpse of that -stooping, passionately despairing, hopelessly broken figure -were enough to banish doubt forever. They testified that -John Hampstead, in the soul of him, was true—to love -as to duty—that he had burned out the scar of his first -disloyalty to her in the fires of intense suffering.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her radiant beauty, the soft, trusting blue of her eyes, -the wonderful witchery of smiling lips and dimpling -cheeks, the proud, happy, worshipful look upon her face, -all proclaimed the bounding joy with which she hurled -herself again into his life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John perceived this in ecstasy. Bessie was not lost to -him, but won to him by what had happened. The mere -perception threw him into a frenzy of joy, and yet it was a -reversal of probabilities so sudden and so overwhelming -that he dared not accept it unattested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, Bessie," he protested. "But, Bessie?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But nothing!" she answered stoutly, flinging her -arms once more about his neck and drawing his lips down -to hers, while she passionately stamped them again and -again with the seal of her love and faith.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With the submission of a child, and under the stimulus -of such convincing, such deliciously thrilling demonstration -as this, the strong-weak man surrendered unconditionally -to an acceptance of facts at once so undeniable and -so excitingly happy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the articles of surrender could not be signed in -words. He drew her close to him and held her there -long and silently, feeling his heart beat violently against -her own, and at the same time his tissues filling with new -and glowing strength. A sigh from Bessie, softly -audible and blissfully long-drawn, broke the silence and the -pose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John held her at arm's length—his eyes a-dance with -the emotional riot of an experience so foreign to the -ascetic life which his character had forced upon him that -he felt the wish for anchorage at which to moor himself -and his joys. Such a mooring was offered by the long, -wide window seat before the dormer which looked over -palms and acacias to the Bay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Taking Bessie by the hand, he led her to this tiny haven.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, John," she murmured, with a flutter in her voice -and a sudden gust of happy tears, as she cuddled down -against his shoulder, "it has been such a long, cruel wait, -hasn't it? Such a hilly, roundabout way that we have -traveled to know and get to each other at last."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But now it's over," he breathed contentedly, swaying -her body gently with his own.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As if a tide had taken them, they drifted out; two -argonauts upon the sea of love with the window seat for -a bark, and soon were cruising far out of sight of land. -There was little talk. Words were so unnecessary. To -feel the presence of each other was quite enough. For -the time being, degrees and careers and private cars, -courts and newspapers, actresses and diamonds, elders -and church trials, were sunk entirely below the horizon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie was first to come back from this nebulous state -of bliss to the more tangible realities of the situation. -With her lover so close and so secure, she experienced -a stirring of possessive instincts accompanied by an -impulse to caretaking. John was hers now, and he -required attention. With a soft hand she smoothed the -yellow locks backward from his brow. With pliant -fingers she sought to iron out the lines of care from his -face, and with lingering, affectionate lips to kiss the -tear-stiffness from his eyelids.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To the man of loneliness, these attentions were -exquisitely delightful. They soothed and fortified him. -They calmed his nerves and ministered to clarity of -thought. This was well, for there were things that -needed to be said as well as those which needed to be done.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dusk was falling. John arose, lighted a pendant bulb -in the center of the long attic, and sat down again, taking -Bessie's hand in his while he told her the story of the -diamonds as he had told it in court—told her so much -and no more; then stopped. The cessation was abrupt, -decisive, but also interrogatory. John could not tell -Bessie more than he could tell any one else and be true to his -vow. Would she appreciate this and acquiesce? Or -would she resent it?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie understood the question in the silence. Her -answer was to snuggle closer and after allowing time for -this action to interpret itself, to say:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That must be the bravest, hardest thing you have -done, John dear; to stop just there, when telling me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was," he answered softly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It makes me trust you further than ever," she assured -him, passing her hand under his chin and pulling -his cheek to hers, again with that instinct of possession. -"You must not be less true but more, because of me," she -breathed softly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But there is one thing I can tell you," he continued, -"which no one else knows nor can know now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then he told her of Marien's visit. The girl -listened at first with cheeks flaming hot and her blue eyes -fixed and sternly hard. Yet as the narrative proceeded, -she grew thoughtful and then considerate, breaking in -finally with:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But she did it so wantonly, so irresponsibly; what -reparation does she propose?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To immediately make a public confession that her -charge against me was utterly false," replied John, -strangely moved to speak defensively for Marien.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She will do that?" exclaimed Bessie, her face alive -with excitement and intense relief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She would have done it," answered John, "but I -forbade her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Forbade her? Oh, John!" The soft eyes looked -amazement and reproach.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," acknowledged John in a steady voice. "You -see, her word would become instantly worthless. To be -believed, her confession would have to be supported by -the naming of the real thief."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And is the saving of a thief worth more to you than -your church—your good name—your—your everything?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In my conception, yes," John answered seriously. -"That is what I have a church, a name, everything, for; -to use it all in saving people—or in helping them, if the -other is too strong a word."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As her lover spoke in this lofty, detached, meditative -tone, Bessie held him off and studied him. This was the -new John Hampstead speaking; the man she did not -know; the man who, up to the hour when cruel scandal -smirched it, had stirred this community with the example -of his life. Before this new man she felt her very soul -bowing. She had loved the old John. She adored the new.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, John! How brave! How strong! How right -you are!" she exclaimed, with a note of adoration in her -voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A pang of self-reproach shot through the big man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not so brave—not so strong as I must—as I ought -to be," he hastened to explain. "In fact, I have been -doubting even if I were right, after all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie's startled look brought out of him like a -confession the story of the last hours before her coming; -the full meaning of the state in which she found him; -how the burden of it all had overtoppled him; how she -had come to find him not brave and certain, but doubting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But now," she affirmed buoyantly, "you are strong, -you are certain again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The very radiance, the fresh youthful happiness on the -face of Bessie, checked the assent to this which was on -his lips. He suddenly thought of what this action would -mean to her, this beautiful, loving, aspiring young woman. -She was his wife now in spirit. By some miracle of God -their lives had in a moment been fused unalterably. He -might bear a stigma for himself, but had he a right to -assume a stigma for her?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, John," she murmured, wonder mingling with -mild reproach, as she saw him hesitate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Listen, my girl," began her lover, with infinite -sympathy and tenderness in his manner, and gravely he -re-sketched the elements in the situation as they would apply -to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie did listen, and as gravely as John spoke to -her,—listened until her eyes were first perplexed and then -downcast. Sitting thus, seeing nothing, she saw everything; -all that it might mean to her to become the partner of -this public shame. She thought of her college friends, -of her mother with her social aspirations, of her strong -and high-standing father and the circle of his business -and personal associates; of the part she hoped herself to -play in the new political life that was coming to her sex. -She saw it and for a moment was afraid, cowering -before it as her lover had cowered. John, in an agony of -suspense, watched this conflict staging itself graphically -upon the features he loved so deeply, gleaning as he waited -another two-edged truth, and that truth this: </span><em class="italics">The love of -a woman may make a man surpassingly stronger; it may -also make him immeasurably weaker</em><span>. It depends on the -woman. He was weaker now. He had accepted her, -demanded her of God, and God had given her. She -was part of him now. It must no longer be his judgment -but their judgment which ruled. She was forming their -judgment now. He leaned forward apprehensively, like -a criminal awaiting his fate. He had surrendered his -independence of action. Had he gained or lost thereby?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie stood up suddenly. Her face was still white, -but her square little chin with its softly rounded corners -was firmly set.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your decision," she affirmed stoutly, "was the right -decision. Your course has been the right course. You -must not waver now. I command—I compel you to -go straight forward. And I will stand with you—go out -with you. From this moment on, your duty is my duty; -your lot shall be my lot."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A smile of heavenly happiness broke like a sunset on the -face of Hampstead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank God!" he murmured reverently; "thank God!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then as a surging Niagara of new strength rushed -over him, he clasped her tightly, exclaiming enthusiastically: -"I feel strong enough now, strong enough for everything!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Standing thus, smiling blissfully into each other's faces, -the lovers became again the two argonauts upon a shoreless, -timeless sea. As they came back, Bessie, a look -half mischievous and half bashful upon her face, pleaded -softly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"John! Ask me something, please?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ask you something," her lover murmured, with a -look of dutiful affection, "why, there is nothing more -that I can ask." He sighed contentedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But put it into words. Something to which I can -answer Yes," she said, a happy blush stealing across her -cheeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The big man gazed at her with a puzzled expression.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So—so that our engagement can be announced in -the papers to-morrow morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John asked her, grimacing delight in his sudden -comprehension, and took her answer in a kiss. But -immediately after he became serious.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To-morrow morning?" he queried apprehensively; -and then answered the interrogation himself. "No, not -to-morrow, Bessie. Not soon. Later. When the issues -are decided. When we know the worst that is to fall. -Not now. You must protect yourself as well as your -father and your mother from such notoriety!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Bessie's own uncompromising spirit flashed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," she exclaimed with a stamp of her foot that -was characteristic. "Now! This is when you need me! -Now you are my affianced husband; I want the world to -know that he is not as friendless as he seems. That we -who know him best believe him most. Do you know, big -man, that my parents cancelled their European trip and -have been rushing across the continent with me in a special -train faster than anybody ever crossed before, just to -come and stand by you. Mother had a headache and is -resting at the St. Albans, but father and I—why, father -is down-stairs in the study waiting. He must have been -there hours and hours. Father!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bessie had rushed across the room and flung open the -door leading downward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Father," she cried. "Father! We are coming."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the hurry?" boomed back a big, ironic voice -that proceeded from the round moon of an amiable face -in the open door of the study near the foot of the stairs. -The face, of course, belonged to Mr. Mitchell, and he -enlarged upon his first gentle sarcasm by adding: "I -bought a thousand freight cars the other day in less time -than it has taken you people to come to terms."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nevertheless, he greeted his former employee with cordial -and sincere affection, while Bessie, radiantly happy -but a little confused, asked:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What must have you been thinking all this time?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mostly I was thinking what a superfluous person a -father comes to be all at once," laughed Mr. Mitchell. -"Isn't there anything I can do at all?" he asked, with -mock seriousness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," rejoined Bessie in the same spirit. "Telephone -the papers to announce the engagement of your -daughter to the Reverend John Hampstead, pastor of All -People's Church."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I did that after the first hour and a half," -exclaimed the railroad man, laughing heartily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the situation was too grave, the feelings of all were -too tense, to sustain this spirit of badinage for long. -Bessie and Tayna fell upon each other with instant liking. -Even Dick and Rose seemed able to forget the crisis which -overhung them in the sudden advent of this beautiful -young woman who had come into their ken again so -suddenly and so mysteriously, and seemed to represent in -herself and her father such a sudden and vast access of -prestige and power to the cause of their uncle and -brother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John and his old employer sat down in the study for a -quiet talk in which the minister related what he had told -Bessie, the circumstances in which he stood, and finally -and especially, his new compunction and Bessie's firm -decision.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She was right!" The heavy jaws of Mitchell snapped -decisively. "The whole thing is a community brain -storm. It will pass."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The criminal charge," began John, feeling relieved and -yet looking serious.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing to that at all," answered the practical -Mitchell, with quick decision. "Ridiculous! You're morbid -from brooding over all this. From the minute this -woman comes to you with her admission, you must have -just ordinary horse sense enough to see that between -us all we can find a way to stop that prosecution without -making it necessary to expose anybody at all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mitchell, observing Hampstead closely, saw that he was -rather careless of this; that in fact he only thought of -it when he thought of Bessie; that the one thing gnawing -into him now was the action of the church. That was -something outside of Mitchell's experience. Whether a -church more or less unfrocked his future son-in-law was -small concern. He was a man who thought in thousands -of miles and millions of people.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, Bessie," he called, "we must be getting back -to the hotel."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will stay for dinner, Mr. Mitchell?" suggested John.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I'll be getting back to mother. I just came to -tell you that I am with you. My attorneys will be your -attorneys. My friends and my influence will be your -influence. Some of these newspapers may bark out of -the other corner of their mouths after they've heard from -me. Come on, Bessie!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," demurred Bessie, "I'm not coming. I am -going to the church to-night to sit beside John."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-elder-in-the-chair"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XL</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE ELDER IN THE CHAIR</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The auditorium of All People's was cunningly -contrived to bring a very large number of people close to -each other and to the minister. Roughly semicircular, -with bowled main floor and rimmed around by a gallery -that edged nearer and nearer at the sides, it was possible -to seat fifteen hundred persons where a man in the pulpit -could look each individual in the eye, and except where -the screen of the gallery broke in, each auditor could see -every other auditor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The special meeting for an object unannounced but -clearly understood was, of course, an assemblage of the -church itself; yet so great was the general interest in -what was to transpire, and so willing were the moving -spirits to play out their act in public, that no one was -turned away. By an instruction from Elder Burbeck, -the ushers merely sifted people, sending the members to -the main floor, and the non-members up-stairs into the -gallery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead entered the church at precisely eight o'clock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The auditorium was filled with the buzz of many voices, -but as the pastor of All People's advanced down the aisle, -this hum gradually ceased, and every eye was turned upon -the man, who tall and grave, with features slightly wasted, -nevertheless wore a look serenely confident and even -happy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This expression in itself was instant occasion for -wonder and surprise. Was this man really unbreakable? -Knowing nothing of what had happened in the day to -encourage its pastor and make him strong, his congregation -was much better prepared to see him as Bessie had found -him three hours before than as he now appeared.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were glances also for the faithful Rose, pale and -worn, but bearing herself with true Hampstead dignity; -for aggressive, wizened Dick, and for Tayna, emotional -and ready, as usual, for tears or laughter. But there -were more than glances for the lady who walked at the -pastor's side proudly, with a possessive air as if she owned -him and were glad to own him. There was searching -scrutiny and attempt at appraisal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All People's had never seen this woman before. She -looked young; yet bore herself like a person of consequence. -She was beautiful, but the dignity of her beauty -was detracted from by dimples. Yet with the dimples -went a masterful self-possession and a chin that was a -trifle square and to-night just a trifle thrust out, while her -head was a little tilted back and her blue eyes were a little -aglint with shafts of a light something like defiance, as if -to say: "Hurt him at your peril. Take him from me if -you can!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Who was she? No one knew. Everybody asked; but -no one answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After standing in the aisle before his family pew, while -Rose, Dick, Tayna, and Bessie filed in before him, the -minister stood for a moment surveying the scene. As he -looked, the serenity upon his features gave way to pain. -The situation saddened him inexpressibly. He was like -a refugee who returns to find his home ruined by the -ravages of war. How peaceful and how helpful had -been the atmosphere of All People's! How happily he -had seen its walls rise and its pews fill! How many good -impulses had been started there! What a pity that the -note of inquisition and of persecution should now be -sounded. How sad that strife should come! And over -him of all beings! He had often looked upon a congregation -torn by dissensions concerning its pastor, and he had -said that no church should ever undo itself over him. -When his time came to go, he would go quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet now he was not going quietly, but that was -because he felt it was not himself that was involved; -instead it was a principle. Either this congregation -existed to mediate love, helpfulness, and a charitable spirit -to the world, or it had no reason for existence at all. It -had better be disrupted, this gallery fall, this altar -crumble, these walls collapse, these people be scattered to the -winds, than All People's become a society for the -advancement of pharisaism.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He noted that the gallery was packed, but on the main -floor empty spaces stared at him from the central tier of -pews. Half of All People's members must have remained -away. John realized with new emotion what this meant: -that there were men and women in his congregation who -could not see their pastor arraigned like this, who could -not bear to witness the rising waves of bitterness, the -charges and the counter-charges, the incriminations, the -malicious spirit of partisanship which invariably breaks -out in times like these. But it meant too that these same -soft-hearted folk were also soft in the spine; unwilling -to take a stand with him; unwilling to be recorded pro -or con upon a great issue like this; people for whom he -had done a service so great that they could not now turn -down their thumbs against him, yet lacking in the -strength of character either to sit as his judges or to cast -a vote in his favor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From this thought of jelly-fish the minister turned, -almost with relief to where, stretching widely behind the -Burbeck pew, was a mass of close-packed faces, with -super-heated resolution depicted upon their features. -The bearing of these partisans in itself reflected how they -had been solicited, inflamed, and organized. They were -there like an army to follow their leader.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Good people, too, some of them! Doctor Hampstead's -very best people. Yet to recognize them and their mood -gave him a sense of personal power. He believed that he -could walk over there and talk to these people ten minutes, -and they would break like sheep from the leadership of -Brother Burbeck. They would come pressing around -him with tears and expressions of confidence. But it was -not in John's purpose to do that. He was on trial. If -on the record of his life among them, these people could -condemn and oust him, his work had been a failure. It -was as well to know it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One thing more the minister took into account. The -number of persons who, half in an attitude of aggressive -loyalty and half in tearful sympathy had gathered in the -tiers behind his own pew was less by half than that -massed behind the Burbeck leadership. The issue was -not in doubt. It had been decided already,—in the -newspapers, in the court room, and in all this busy bell-ringing -of the last two days.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And now, having seen as much and reflected as much -as has been recorded, Hampstead sat down and slipped a -furtive lover's hand along the seat until it found the hand -of Bessie, and took it into his with a gentle pressure that -was affectionately reciprocated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But if to the congregation the entry of the minister and -the woman of mystery by his side was sensation number -one in this evening of sensations, the entry of the Angel -of the Chair was sensation number two. Mrs. Burbeck, -propelled as usual by Mori, the Japanese, was just -appearing at the side door; and this time there was no trundling -to the center between two factions. Instead, with -Japanese intentness of purpose, and as if he had his -instructions beforehand, Mori drove the chair straight across the -neutral ground to the end of the Hampstead pew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The church, seeing this act, grasped instantly its solemn -meaning. The house of Burbeck was divided against -itself. Mrs. Burbeck had often disapproved of her -husband's course in church leadership, but she had never taken -sides against him. To-night she did so. The issue was -too great, too fundamental, to do otherwise. That it hurt -her painfully was evident. Her face had lost its smile. -The pallor of her cheeks was more wax-like than ever, -and there was a droop in the corners of her mouth that no -physical suffering had effected. But the lips were tightly -compressed, and the valiant spirit of the woman looked -resolutely out of her eyes. Those near and watching -the face of her husband saw that this look affected him; -saw him start as if he had hardly expected such action, -hardly realized what it would be to find her thus opposing -him. They even noted that a fleeting expression of doubt, -of sudden loss of faith in his own course, came into the -eyes of the man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nevertheless, although with a sigh at the burdens his -faithfulness to the Lord so often compelled him to bear, -Elder Burbeck set his spirit sternly upon its task. He was -the Nemesis of God. He would not shrink though the -flame scorched him, the innocent, while it consumed the -guilty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet from the moment that this glance had passed between -the husband and the wife, it appeared that a gloom -of tragedy settled upon the gathering. Again the -congregation sank of itself to awed silence, so intense that a -cough, the clearing of a throat, the dropping of a -hymn-book into a rack, echoed hollowly. Slight movements -took on augmented significance. Thoughts boomed out -like words, and looks had all the force of blows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The polity of All People's was ultra-congregational. -The proceedings had the form of order, but were primitive -and practical; yet every step, voice, motion, detail, -took on an exaggerated sense of the ominous, as if a man's -body were on trial instead of merely his soul.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nor was Elder Burbeck at all approving of Hampstead's -manner to-night. The minister had shown again -his utter incapacity to appreciate a situation. He was too -cool, too unmoved. He had taken a full minute to stand -there posing in pretended serenity while he looked the -congregation over. From Burbeck's point of view, this -manoeuvre was dangerous tactics. There was always some -indefinable power in that deep-searching look of -Hampstead's. If the man should stand up there and look at -these people for ten minutes longer, he might have them -all over there palavering about him. He was looking in -the gallery now. Well, let him look there as long as he -liked. The gallery couldn't vote. Burbeck's own eye -wandered into the gallery. On the other side from him, -just where the horseshoe curve began to draw in toward -the choir loft, sat his son, Rollie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rollie should not be up there," the Elder instructed, -turning to an usher. "Go and tell him to come down."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He says he is with a lady who is not a member," -reported the usher on returning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Huh?" ejaculated Burbeck, turning a surprised gaze -upon the figure of a woman heavily veiled who sat beside -his son.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That woman! What sacrilege had impelled his son to -bring her here? Had she not wrought ruin enough -already? Must she gloat over the shame she had brought -upon this congregation and upon the church of the living -God? And must his son be the means of her coming? -What was that boy thinking of, anyway?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And yet, since Rollie had grown into so fine a figure -of a man, his father had come to regard his son and what -he chose to do with an indulgence he granted to no one -else. He wished the boy would come to church more; he -wished he would give more attention to those things to -which his father had devoted his life; and yet he could -make allowance for him. The young man's environment, -his social gifts, his business prospects, all inclined him to -another set of associations. Besides, the boy's own -character seemed so fine and strong, the sentiments of his -heart so truly noble, that the father's iron judgment -softened even in the matter of an indiscretion so flagrant -as this. He reflected too that for business reasons it was -doubtless just as well if Rollie were brought into no -prominence in this unpleasant affair. In fact, Elder Burbeck -would have been as well satisfied if his son had stayed -away altogether.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is time to call the meeting to order," suggested -Elder Brooks, a pale, nervous man whose eyes were -continually consulting the typewritten sheet which he held in -his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Brother Brooks," agreed Elder Burbeck, advancing -to the table below and in front of the pulpit. He was -almost directly in front of where Doctor Hampstead sat in -his pew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>John noticed that the Elder looked worried and -over-anxious. His pouchy cheeks sagged; there were huge -wattles of red skin beneath his chin, and his whole -countenance had a more than usually apoplectic look.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Brother Anderson will lead in prayer," announced the -Elder in unctuous tones. "Let us stand, please!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The congregation stood. But Brother Anderson's -leadership in prayer could not be deemed very successful. -He led as if he himself were lost. His prayer appeared -to partake of the nature of an apology to God for what -the petitioner hoped was about to be done.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During the length of these whining orisons, the -congregation grew impatient. The gallery in spots sat down. -The effect of the prayer was in total no more than a -dismal thickening of the gloom of tragedy that hung -lower and lower over the meeting. Yet once the prayer -was ended, Elder Burbeck baldly declared the object of -the meeting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His manner was strained, his voice was harsh and -halting, but he began stubbornly and plodded forward -doggedly, gradually laboring himself into the hectic fervor of -his assumed position as the instrument of God to purge All -People's of its pastor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet it was in keeping with the tenseness of the situation -that as the emotions of the vehement apostle of the </span><em class="italics">status -quo</em><span> reached their height, his words became rather less -florid, and he concluded in sentences of sycophantic calm -and tones of solicitous consideration for the feelings of -the piece of riff-raff he was about to brush aside with a -sweep of his fiery fan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is before us," he assured his audience finally, -"no question of the pastor's guilt or innocence of the -charges made. The question is one of expediency; as to -what is best to do for the good name and the future -usefulness of All People's. The Board of Elders, after -serious and prayerful consideration," Brother Burbeck's -voice whined a little as he said this, "has felt that it was -best for the pastor and best for the interest of the church -to ask him to resign quietly and immediately. That -request has been emphatically declined. It has become our -duty, painful as it is," the Elder sighed and twitched -his red neck regretfully in his white collar, "to present -to the congregation a resolution covering the situation. -That resolution the clerk of the church will now read."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But instead of looking at the clerk, the chairman looked -at Elder Brooks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Those typewritten lines, the mere holding of which had -given Elder Brooks that sense of importance which it was -necessary for him to feel in order to be able to act -decisively in a matter like this which went gravely against -some of the instincts of his soft nature, were, by him now, -with a final and supreme sense of this importance, passed -to the clerk of the church, a fat, ageless, colorless looking -man who read stolidly that:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Whereas, the pastor of this congregation, John -Hampstead, has been held to answer to the Superior -Court of this County upon a charge of burglary and has -been otherwise involved in public scandal in such manner -that he appears either unable or unwilling to establish his -innocence; and</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whereas, it is the judgment of this Board that such a -situation is one highly detrimental to the causes for which -this church exists, and one calculated to bring reproach -upon the church and the sacred cause of Christ;</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Therefore, be it resolved that the pastoral relation -existing between All People's Church and the said John -Hampstead be, and now is, immediately dissolved.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"This, brethren," announced Elder Burbeck, with an -air of pain that was no doubt real, and a fresh summoning -of divine resolution to his aid, "is the recommendation of -your official Board. What is your pleasure concerning it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I move its adoption," quavered Elder Brooks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I second the motion," Brother Anderson suggested faintly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you ready for the question?" hinted the ruling Elder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But a man stood up somewhere over behind Hampstead. -"I should like to ask, Brother Burbeck," he -inquired, "if that was the unanimous resolution of the -Board."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was not unanimous," replied the Elder, slightly -nettled, "as you know, Brother Hinton. It is a majority -resolution. The question is now upon its adoption."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elder Burbeck swept a suggestive eye over his carefully -organized majority, and this time his hint was taken. -Calls of "question" arose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Hinton remained uncompromisingly upon his feet. -He was a tall man and pale, with a high, bone-like brow, -a long spiked chin, and gray moustaches that drooped -placidly over a balanced mouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I understand that the chair will not attempt to railroad -this resolution," he ventured with mild sarcasm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elder Burbeck's habitual flush heightened as, after a -premonitory rumble in his throat and an enormous -effort at self-control, he replied emphatically: "Brother -Hinton, the resolution will not be railroaded;" and then -added warningly: "To avoid stirring up strife, however, -I hope we may vote upon it with as little discussion -as possible."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," admitted Brother Hinton dryly, but still standing -his ground. "I think it is perfectly understood that -debate where its outcome is pre-determined, is useless. -Yet without having consulted the pastor of this church as -to my course, I voice the sentiment of many around me in -urging him to stand up here as its pastor, as he has a right -to do, and as the congregation has a right to ask him to do, -and tell us what he thinks should be our course in the -premises."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Brother Hinton's was a well balanced mind, and it -seemed for a moment that his own manner might inject -some coolness into the situation. Indeed, the good Elder -Burbeck trembled lest it might, for the fires of purification -being up, he wished them to burn, undampened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Certainly for John Hampstead to stand up there and -tell that congregation what to do was the last thing the -Elder wanted. Besides, he resented some of Brother -Hinton's imputations as disagreeable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The chairman answered curtly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If the pastor did not respect the eldership sufficiently -to advise it, I think it can hardly be expected of him to -advise the congregation; or that the congregation would take -his advice if he gave it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The face of Hampstead whitened, and his muscles -strained in his body.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was really a mean speech of Elder Burbeck, yet -he did not wish to be mean. He meant only to be -just—to All People's church. His zeal on the one hand, his -prejudgment upon the other, had led him to consider no -procedure as proper that did not look immediately to the -hurling down of the usurper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The pastor is not at issue," he concluded with heat -almost unholy. "It is the good name of All People's that is -at issue."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The face of Hampstead whitened a little more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," persisted Brother Hinton; "let our pastor make -his answer to the charges, that we may determine for -ourselves what is the issue."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Enough had been said. John Hampstead stood tall and -statue-like in the aisle, with the manner of a man about to -speak the very soul out of himself, if need be. Before -this manner, Elder Burbeck recoiled a little, as he knew he -must, if this man asserted himself. For one despairing -moment the good man felt that the cause of righteousness -was lost. But something in the manner of the minister -himself reassured the Elder. The man's soul went back -a little from his eyes,—receded, as it were, like a tide, -while he turned toward the congregation and in kindly, -patient tones began:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I cannot speak to charges, Brother Hinton! None -are presented against me. It was for this reason that I -refused to appear before the eldership. This resolution is -not a charge. It is an assault. There is no proposal on -the part of this Board to find out if I am guilty of -anything. They propose a course which assumes my guilt to -be of no importance. I tell you that it is of all importance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps, brethren, I have been too reticent. Perhaps -the peculiar circumstances out of which this congregation -has grown during the five years of my ministry have made -it difficult for all of us to see aright or to act aright in this -trying situation. I stand before you to some extent a -victim of misplaced confidence in you. I was surprised -that the newspapers should inflame public opinion against -me. I was surprised that a Court of Justice should hold -me to answer for this improbable crime. Yet, during all -these, to me, cataclysmic, happenings of the past week, -I have looked to the loyalty of this church with an -assurance that never wavered; an assurance that in the light of -what is happening to-night seems more tragic than -anything else. I never had a thought that you would not -stand by me, at least until I was found to be guilty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A note of pathos had crept into the minister's voice. -The gallery listened intent and breathless. Elder -Burbeck felt an irritation in his throat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the minister was continuing:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Indulging this faith in you, entirely occupied with the -many perplexing circumstances of this lamentable affair, I -am made now to feel that I neglected you too long.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I perceive now that your minds, too, were inflamed -with suspicion; that well-meaning but mistaken zealots -among you have felt called upon to take advantage of the -situation to purge the church of my presence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Once I saw this movement under way, I felt too hurt -to oppose it. It seems to me that it has been done -cunningly and calculatingly. No charges have been presented -against me; therefore I cannot defend myself; and I will -not defend myself. I am only analyzing the situation for -you, that what you do may be with open eyes. It is urged -that I am not on trial; therefore as a popular tribunal, you -cannot go into the details and ascertain the truth for -yourselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A hasty decision is demanded; therefore there is no -time for the situation to clear and for calm counsel to -prevail. Bear in mind that you are called upon to take action -quickly, not for my sake as a minister; not for your sake -as individuals; but because the good name of this church is -alleged to be suffering. Is it not in reality because the -vanity of some of the members of this church is suffering?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If that is so, it is not a reason, my brethren, for hasty -action against any man. Surely it is not a reason for -hasty action against me. I ask those of you who can -remember, to go back, to recall the circumstances under -which I became your pastor. You were humble enough -then. There was small thought of the good name of this -congregation when I sat in the park out there and saw this -man nailing a plank across the door. I did not question -his good intentions then. I do not question them now. -But he is proposing to do the same thing in effect that he -did then; to nail God out of His house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, not because I am nailed out. You may cast me -out, and this church will go on. But if you cast out any -brother, even the humblest, wrongfully or for -self-righteous reasons, you depart from the spirit of Christ. -You should be helping that man instead of hurting him. -How much less would you cast out your pastor for the -same reason."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Brother Hampstead!" It was the voice of Elder -Burbeck, grating harshly by the forced element of -self-restraint in his tones. "You are misapprehending the -issue. There is no proposal to cast you out of the -congregation. The proposal is merely that you retire from the -position of eminence which you occupy, exactly as I might -be asked to retire if my own name had been smirched."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There you are!" ejaculated Hampstead. "'Had -been smirched.' Your chairman's phraseology shows that -he assumes that my name has been smirched. I deny it. -I indignantly reject the specious argument that the action -of this church to-night does not amount to a trial. -Before the eyes of the world you are finding me guilty. You -place upon me a stigma as a minister that will follow -wherever I go, the inference of which is unescapable. -From the hour when I became the minister of this -congregation until now, I have gone about as a servant of the -One Master, according to my judgment and my capacity. -The point of view of the authors of this resolution seems -to be that I have been the servant of this congregation; -that I may be hired or discharged, that I am theirs, that I -have been working for them. That was a mistake! It is -a mistake. I know you have paid me a salary, but I have -never felt that it conferred upon me any obligation to you. -I thought you gave the money to God, and that he gave it -to me, and that with it I was to serve Him and not you. -That service was rendered in all good conscience to this -hour. Are you now presuming to oust me because I can -no longer serve God? Or because you are unwilling for -me longer to serve you?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your Board has asked me to resign. To resign -would be a confession of guilt. I do not feel guilty. I -am not guilty. My conscience is clear. Personally, I was -never so satisfied that I was doing right as now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sometimes I must have done the wrong thing. Looking -back, it seems to me now that sometimes when you -approved most heartily, when the public ovations were the -loudest, the thing achieved was either of doubtful worth -or very transitory. The present case touches fundamental -issues. It has to do with one of the most sacred -duties of the minister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The resolution to which I am entitled from this -congregation is a resolution of absolute confidence. There is -but one other resolution that could adequately express the -situation, and that is the one which is proposed by the -Board. If you cannot pass the resolution of confidence, -I think that you should pass the one that has been -proposed. That is the advice which I have to offer. That is -the answer which I make to this unjust, this unchristian -assault upon your pastor in the moment when, tried as he -has never been tried before, he needs your loyalty and -confidence more than he can ever need it again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead sat down. He had spoken with far more -feeling than he had intended, but he had exhibited much -less than he experienced.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet the total effect of his words was less happy than -his friends had hoped. Instead of appealing to his -auditors, he appeared to arraign them. Elder Burbeck was -greatly relieved. He saw that this arraignment had -antagonized and solidified his own cohorts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the tall man with the lofty brow was on his feet -again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish to move," said Brother Hinton, "a resolution -such as Doctor Hampstead has suggested; a resolution of -sympathy and absolute confidence, and I now do move that -this church put itself upon record as sympathizing fully -with our pastor in his unpleasant position, and assuring -him of our confidence in the unswerving integrity of his -character and of our prayers that he may be true to his -duty as he sees it. I offer that as a substitute for the -resolution before the house."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The resolution was seconded. There was an interval -of silence, a feeling that the crucial moment had been -reached. Question was called. The substitute was put.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All in favor of this resolution which you have heard -made and with the formal reading of which we will -dispense, please stand," proclaimed Elder Burbeck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was an uncertain movement. By ones and twos, -and then in groups the persons sitting on the Hampstead -side of the church rose to their feet, until with few -exceptions all were standing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The clerk will count."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was an awkward silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One hundred and sixty-three," the colorless man -announced presently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All opposed, same sign." Burbeck's adherents arose -</span><em class="italics">en masse</em><span> at the motion of the Elder's arm, which was as -involuntary as it was injudicial.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The clerk did not count. It was unnecessary. "The -motion is lost," he said to the presiding officer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The resolution is lost," announced Elder Burbeck -loudly, in tones that quickened with eagerness. "The -question now recurs upon the original resolution."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Erect, poised, feeling a sense of elation that he was -now to let loose the wrath of God upon a recreant -shepherd of the flock, the Elder stood for a moment with his -eyes sweeping over the whole congregation, and taking -in every detail of the picture; the disheartened, defeated -group behind Hampstead, the flushed, determined face of -the minister, the defiant blaze in the eyes of the rosy-faced -young person by his side,—who was this strange woman, -anyway?—and then his own well-marshalled loyal forces, -who to-night played the part of the avenging hosts of -Jehovah!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Up even into the gallery the Elder's eyes wandered -with satisfaction. These galleries should see that All -People's would not suffer itself to be put to shame before -the world. Something centered his eye for a moment -upon Rollie. His son was gazing intently, leaning -forward with a hand reached out until it rested on the balcony -rail. Then the Elder's eye returned to the lower floor and -to the mission now about to be accomplished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you ready for the question?" he inquired, with -forced deliberation, enjoying the suspense before its -inevitable outcome of satisfied justice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Question! Question!" came the insistent calls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But now there was something like a movement in the -gallery. The old Elder's eye, noting everything, noted -that; looking up, he saw that Rollie's seat was empty; -but higher up the gallery aisle the young man was visible, -making his way quickly toward the stairs. That was -right, he was coming down to vote; but he would be too late.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All in favor of the resolution severing the pastoral -relation between All People's Church and John -Hampstead will signify by standing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Elder rolled the words out sonorously. In his -mind they stood for the thunder of divine judgment!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The solid phalanxes upon his left arose as one man and -stood while their impressive numbers were this time -carefully counted by the clerk. The tally took some time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Opposed, the same sign!" The Elder barked out the -words like a challenge. Again the straggling group -behind Hampstead arose. The minister himself stood up. -As a member of the congregation, he had a right to vote, -and he would protest to the last this injustice to him, this -slander of All People's upon itself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Burbeck could not stand, but raised her hand, so -thin and shell-like that it trembled while she held the white -palm up to view.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elder Burbeck saw this and noted with a slight additional -sense of shock that Rollie was now beside his mother -and standing also to be counted with the Hampstead adherents.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The resolution is carried," said the clerk to the Elder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The resolution—" echoed Burbeck, his voice beginning -to gather enormous volume. But when he had got -this far, his utterance was arrested by the sudden action -of his son, who remained standing in the aisle, with one -hand grasping his mother's, and the other outstretched in -some sort of appeal to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Father!" the boy whispered hoarsely; "don't announce -that vote! Don't announce it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This startling interruption appeared to freeze the whole -scene fast. The throaty, excited tones of the young man -floated to the far corners of the auditorium, and again the -sense of some impending terror forced itself deeper into -the crowd-consciousness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't announce it? What do you mean?" ejaculated -the father in an irritated and widely audible whisper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The suddenness of this outbreak and the astounding -fact that it should come from his own flesh, had thrown -the Elder completely off his stride.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because," the young man faltered, his face white, his -eyes wild and staring, "because it's wrong!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The huge dominating figure of a man stood for a -moment nonplussed, wondering what hysteria could have -overtaken his son; but annoyance and stubborn determination -to proceed quickly manifested themselves upon his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't, father!" pleaded the young man, advancing -down the aisle, "Don't! I've got something I must say!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time, Hampstead, quickly apprehensive, had -stepped out from his pew and was seeking to grasp Rollie's -arm; but the excited young man avoided him, and standing -with one hand still appealing toward his father, and -with the other pointing backward toward the minister, he -announced with a sudden access of vocal force: "That -man is innocent."</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 82%" id="figure-40"> -<span id="that-man-is-innocent"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=""That man is innocent."" src="images/img-509.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">"That man is innocent."</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>The words had a triumphant ring in them that echoed -through the auditorium.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Innocent?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The tone of the senior Burbeck was scornful in the -extreme. Increasing anger at being thus interfered with, -especially by Rollie had turned the Elder's face almost -purple. "Young man," he commanded harshly, "you -stand aside and let this church declare its will."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will not stand aside," protested the son. "I will -not let you, my father, do this great wrong. He forbade -me to speak; but I will speak. Yes, no matter what -happens, I must speak."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young man turned a frightened glance upon his -mother. Mrs. Burbeck was gazing intently at her son, a -look of shock giving way to one of comprehension and -then a pitiful half-smile of encouragement, as if she urged -him to go on and do his duty, whatever that involved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That man," Rollie began afresh, his neck thrust -forward desperately, while he pointed to the minister, who -had stepped back once more as though he felt the purposes -of God in operation and no longer dared to interfere; -"that man is innocent. I am the thief. I stole the -diamonds. I did it to get the money to cover a defalcation at -the bank. Fearful of the consequences, I turned to him in -my distress. He got the money to restore what I had -stolen. I put the diamonds in his box for an hour, and by -a mistake he went off with the key. That explains all. -When I returned from the cruise on the Bay and learned -what had happened, I was paralyzed with fear. At first I -did not even have the manhood to go and tell him how the -diamonds got into his box. When I did, he made me keep -the silence for fear the blow would kill my mother. It -seemed to me that this was not a sufficient reason. But -I was weak; I was a coward. Yet the spectacle of seeing -this man stand here day after day while his reputation was -torn to pieces, unwavering and unyielding whether for the -sake of my mother or such a worthless wretch as I am, or -for the sake of his priestly vow, made me stronger and -stronger. Yet I was not strong enough to speak. Not -until to-night. Not until I saw my mother's hand tremble -when she held it up to vote for him. I only came down -here to stand beside her. But one touch of hers compelled -me to speak. I am prepared to assume my guilt before -this church and before the world. I was a defaulter, and -John Hampstead saved me. I was a thief, and he saved -me. I was a coward, and he made me brave enough at -least for this. I tell you, the man is innocent, absolutely -innocent. He is so good that you should fall down and -worship him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rollie's confession in detail was addressed to the -congregation as a whole, and he finished with his arms -extended and chest thrown forward like a man who had -bared his soul.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After standing for a moment motionless, his eyes -turned to his mother, and with a low cry he dashed to -where Hampstead was bending over her. She lay chalk-white -and motionless, one hand in her lap, the other swinging -pendant, the hand that had just been raised to vote. -The eyes were closed; the lips half parted; the expression -of her face, if expression it might be termed, one of utter -exhaustion of vital forces.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment the young man stood transfixed by the -spectacle of what he had done. How shadow thin she -looked! This was not the figure of a woman, but some -exquisite pattern of the spiritual draped limply in this -chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And yet, as if affected by his appealing gaze, the -features moved, some of the looseness departed from the -corners of the mouth, the eye-lashes fluttered and a -delicate tint showed upon the cheek, disappeared, came again, -and went away again; but with each appearance lingered -longer. The lips moved too as if a breath were passing -through them; almost indistinguishably and yet surely, the -bosom of her dress stirred, collapsed, and stirred again. -The young man had rather unconsciously seized both -wilted hands, forcing the minister somewhat away in -order to do so. It was his mother. He had struck her -defenseless head this blow. Unmindful of the sudden awe -of silence about him, followed by murmurings, ejaculations, -and then a universal stir of feet, the blank looks, -the questionings, the staring wonder with which neighbor -looked to neighbor, the young man watched intently that -stirring of the mother breast until it became regular and -rhythmical.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The lips were moving now again; but this time as if in -the formation of words. Rollie bent low, until his ear -was close.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me think, let me think," the lips murmured -wearily. "My son—was a defaulter and a thief—John -Hampstead knew. John Hampstead showed him the better -way." She turned her head weakly and eased her -body in the chair, as if to make even this slight effort at -conversation less laborious, and then began to speak once -more:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But he was not strong enough to walk that better way, -so John Hampstead took the burden upon his own shoulders -and carried it until my boy was strong enough to bear -it for himself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sufficient strength had returned for one of her hands to -exert a pressure on the hand that held it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mother," Rollie breathed fervently into her ear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But now," and the voice gained more volume, "but -now he is strong enough. He has done a brave and noble -thing at last. I forget my shame in pride and gratitude to -God for my son that was lost and is alive again—forever -more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The last tone flowed out upon the current of a long, -wavering sigh, which seemed to take the final breath from -her body.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mother!" the young man urged anxiously, putting -an instinctive pressure upon the hands he held, as if to -call the spirit back into her again. There was an instant -in which he felt that it was gone. She had left him. But -the next instant he felt it coming back again like a tide -and stronger, much stronger, so that there was real color -in her cheeks, and then the eyes opened and looked at him -with a clear and steady light, with the glow of love and -admiration in them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank God!" murmured the voice of Hampstead -hoarsely. "She is back. She will stay."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," Mrs. Burbeck affirmed, faintly but valiantly, -turning from the face of her son to that of the minister -with a look of inexpressible gratitude and devotion. -"Yes, I am back," she smiled reassuringly, "and to stay. -I never had so much reason—so much to live for as now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The enactment of this scene at the chair, so intense and -so significant, could have consumed no more than two -minutes of time. The congregation, keenly alive to the -effect the disclosure must have upon the life of the mother, -was in a state to witness with the most perfect understanding -every detail of the action about the invalid's chair. -While the issue was in doubt, the audience remained in an -agony of suspense and apprehension.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With the sudden look of relief upon the face of the -minister, followed presently by a luminous smile of pure -joy while his shoulders straightened to indicate the rolling -off of the burden of his fears, the suspense for the -congregation was completely ended. Reactions began -immediately to occur.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Far up in the gallery a woman laughed, an excited, -hysterical, brainless laugh, and every eye darted upon her in -reproach. Then down in front somewhere near the first -line of the Burbeck adherents, a man began to sob, -hoarsely and with a wailing note, as if in utter despair. -Again every eye swung from the woman who had laughed -to the man who was crying. As they fell on him, he stood -up. It was Elder Brooks, the man who had written the -resolution declaring the pastoral relation severed. With -streaming eyes he was hurrying toward Hampstead. But -now other women were laughing hysterically, other men -were sobbing. Everywhere was exclamation, movement, -and a sudden impulse toward the minister. The people in -the gallery came down, crowding dangerously, to the rail. -On the main floor little rivulets of excited human beings -trickled out from the pews and streamed down the aisles. -The first to reach Hampstead was a woman. She caught -his hand and kissed it. Elder Brooks came next. He -flung an arm about the minister's neck, but instead of -looking at him or addressing him, covered his face in shame.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But it was no longer possible to describe what any one -individual was doing. The entire audience had become a -sea which at first rolled toward Hampstead and then -swirled and tossed its individual waves laughing, -cheering or applauding frothily. In mutual congratulation -men shook each other's hands and some appeared even -to shake their own hands. Women kissed or flung their -arms about one another. Two thirds of the main floor -was devoid entirely of people. The other third was a -struggling eddy in which the tall form of the ex-pastor,—for -they had just voted him out of the pulpit,—stood -receiving every one who reached him with a sad kind of -graciousness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Songs broke out. For a time the people in the gallery -were singing: "Blessed be the tie that binds." Those -below sobbed through "My faith looks up to Thee", and -presently all were singing "Nearer my God to Thee, -nearer to Thee." This continued until the gathering -seemed to sing itself somewhat out of its hysteria; and -then, weaving to and fro, the tide began to ebb back up the -aisles and into the pews again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At first the people thought they had done this of their -own accord, but later it appeared that it was Hampstead -who was making them do it. He was a leader. In the -temporary chaos, his will alone retained its poise, and it -was the suggestion in the glance of his eye and finally in -the gestures of his hands that sent them back to their -seats.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the singing stopped, and the audience sat -somewhat composed and considering what should happen next, -the minister remained master of the situation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To protect himself somewhat from the surging waves of -humanity, Hampstead had stepped upon the platform. -He stood now with one hand resting easily upon the back -of the chair beside the communion table. The chair was -not empty, for it contained the huge, collapsed bulk of the -Elder, the upper half of whose body had sunk sideways -upon the end of the table, with his huge red face fenced off -from view by one arm, as if to shroud the shame of his -features. He was inert and still. The fragile human -orchid in the chair had not been more motionless than he. -The tip of an ear, one bald knob of his head, were all that -showed to those in front; and the other arm was extended -across the table, the fingers overhanging the edge of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The spectacle of the man lying crushed and broken upon -the very table from which so often he had administered -the communion, cast a deepening spell over all. But it -also forced on all a thought of sympathy for this rashly -misguided man, who as a spiritual leader of this church -had shown himself so utterly lacking in spiritual -discernment. This was quite in keeping with John Hampstead's -mood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Our very first emotion," the minister began, "must -be one of sympathy for this well-meaning brother of ours -who has been the unfortunate victim of a series of -mistakes in which his has been by no means the greatest. -While he sits before us overcome with humiliation and -remorse, Elder Burbeck will pardon me if I speak for a -moment as if he were not here. I wish to urge upon you all -that no one—least of all myself—should reproach him -for the thing which he has done. I have never doubted -that he was acting in all good conscience. The succession -of events, once it had begun to march, has been so -remarkable that now, looking back, we must each and all of us -feel how puny are men and women to resist the winds of -circumstance which blow upon them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To me, granting the beginning of this strange series -of events for which I am at least in part to blame, it seems -now that all the rest has been inevitable. I think we -should reproach no one. Certainly I shall not. Instead, -I am thinking that it is a time for great rejoicing. That -mother who has so many times shown us the better way, -has shown it to-night. Looking up to her son whose act -of moral courage, witnessing to the new character that he -has been building, has made possible the happy climax of -this tragic hour—looking up to him she has said: 'I -never had so much to live for as now.' That should be -the feeling of each one of us.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The events of to-night must have been graven deeply -into all our hearts. None of us can ever be quite the -same. Each must start afresh, with our lives enriched by -the lesson and by the experiences of this hour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It has brought to me the keenest suffering, the -bitterest disappointment, that I have ever known. It has -brought to me also a deepening faith in the marvelous -power of God to overrule the most untoward incidents to -His glory. It has brought to me also the greatest gift that -any man can have upon the side of his earthly relations,—a -joy so great, so supreme, so ineffable that I cannot speak -farther than to say to you that it is mine to-night; and that -you look into my eyes at the happiest moment I have ever -known."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a movement in the gallery. A tall woman, -heavily veiled, with an air of unmistakable distinction -about her, arose and mounted the aisle step by step to the -stairway leading downward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desiring with all the violent impetuosity of her nature -to break out with the truth that would vindicate the man -she loved so hopelessly and had involved so terribly, -Marien had nevertheless been true to her vow of silence. -But she had brought Rollie Burbeck to this meeting, and -she had kept him there. At the critical moment she had -sent him down to stand beside his mother, until the young -man's clay-like soul at last had fluxed and fused into the -moulding of a man. Having seen the mischief she had -wrought undone, so far as anything done ever is undone, -she was leaving now, when the minister had begun to -speak of what she could not bear to hear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead's gaze watched the receding figure, and a -poignant regret for her smote in upon him in the midst of -all his joy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desperately, with that enormous resolution of which -she was capable, Marien Dounay was stepping undemonstratively -out of his life. But as she went, he knew that -the verdict pronounced upon him by the court was one -now pronounced upon her. All through life she would be -held to answer for the love she had slain for the sake of -her ambition.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of those who followed the eye of the minister as it -marked the departure of the woman from the gallery, -some, of course, recognized her, and for a moment they -may have been puzzled over the mystery of the part she -had played in that moving drama, the last act of which -was now drawing to its end before them; but the minister -was speaking again:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It seems to me best for us all," he was saying, "to -disperse quietly, to go each to his or her own home, to our -own families, into the deeper recesses of our own hearts, -to ponder that through which we have passed and plan for -each the future duty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Upon one point I am inclined to break into homily. -The great lesson which I myself have learned can be best -expressed in the verdict of the court at my preliminary -hearing: 'Held to Answer.' It seems to me there is a -great philosophy of life in that. In the crowding events -of the week past, I have been 'Held to Answer' for many -mistakes of mine. Some of you must find yourselves held -to answer now for the manner in which you have borne -yourselves. Our young brother, Rollie Burbeck, for -whom we feel so deeply and whose courage to-night we -have so greatly admired, will be held to answer to-morrow -before his associates and the world for his past mistakes -and for his proposals for the future. But we shall be held -to answer also for our blessings and our opportunities. A -great joy has come to me. The woman I have loved -devotedly, but perhaps undeservingly, for years, has come -thundering half way across the continent to stand beside -me here to-night. She brings me great happiness, an -increasing opportunity to do good. For that also I shall be -held to answer, since joys are not given to us for selfish -use, but that we may enlarge and give them back again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And now, though I am no longer your pastor, you -will permit me, I am sure, to lift my hand above you for -this last time and invoke the benediction of God which is -eternal upon the life of every man and woman here to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," faltered Elder Brooks, starting up, his voice -trembling, "that was our great mistake, our great sin. -You are to be our pastor again!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The minister shook his head slowly and decisively. -The Elder stared in dumb, helpless amazement, while a -murmur of dissent rose from the congregation, but -quieted before the upraised hand of the minister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It seems to me," said Hampstead, speaking in tones -of deep conviction and yet with humility, "that God has -declared the pulpit of All People's vacant; that both you -and I are to be held to answer for our mutual failure by a -stern decree of separation. For there is another lesson -which has been graven deeply in my life. It is this: No -man can go back. No life ever flows up stream. The -tomb of yesterday is sealed. The decision of this congregation -is irrevocable. Less than a quarter of an hour has -passed; but you are not the same, and I am not the same."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the minister's solemn utterance, the message of the -inevitable consequence of what had happened was carried -into every consciousness. There was no longer any -protest. The congregation bowed, mutely submissive, while -John Hampstead pronounced the benediction of St. Jude:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now unto him that is able to guard you from stumbling, -and to set you before the presence of his glory without -blemish in exceeding joy, to the only God our Saviour, -through Jesus Christ, our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion -and power before all time, and now, and forever more. -Amen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The meeting was over. But the audience sat uncertainly -in the pews, with expectant glances at Elder Burbeck. -It seemed as if he should rouse and say something. -John, in recognition of the naturalness of this impulse, -turned and laid his hand upon the shoulder of the man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My brother," he began, and applied a gentle pressure. -But something in the unyielding bulk of the man made -him stop with a puzzled look, after which he turned and -glanced toward Mrs. Burbeck. Already Rollie was pushing -her chair forward, her face expressing both anxiety -and love. She had been eager to go to her husband -before, but consideration for his own pride, which would -resent a demonstration, had withheld her. She touched -first the outstretched drooping finger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hiram!" she breathed softly, coaxingly, "Hiram!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Receiving no response, Mrs. Burbeck drew the obscuring -hand gently from before the face. Her own features -were a study. It was curious of Hiram to act this way. -He was a man of stern purpose. Having been -overwhelmingly shamed by his error, it would have been like -him to stand bravely and confess his wrong. But his -parted lips had no purpose in their form at all. The -redness of his skin had changed to a purple. She laid her -fingers on his cheek and held them there, for a moment, -curiously and apprehensively. Then a startled expression -crossed her face, and a little exclamation broke from her -lips. Instead of leaning forward, she drew back and -lifted her eyes helplessly to the minister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hampstead met her questioning, pitiful glance with a -sad shake of the head and affirmation in his own -tear-filling eyes. He had sensed the solemn truth from the -moment of that first touch upon the huge, unresponsive -shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For an appreciable interval the face of the woman was -white and set and unbelieving, and then she folded her -hands and bowed her head in mute acknowledgment of the -widowhood which had come upon her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With the audience aghast and breathless in sympathetic -understanding, Hampstead looked down upon the silent -figures where they posed like a sculptured group, the upper -bulk of the man unmoving upon the table, the woman -unmoving in the chair, and behind the chair, the son, also -bowed and motionless.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hiram Burbeck was dead. He, too, had been held to -answer, but before the highest court,—for his harsh -legalism, for his unsympathetic heart, for his blind -leadership of the blind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How strange were the issues of life! This leaflike -shadow of a woman, her mortal existence hanging by a -thread, had withstood the shock for which the minister -had feared and risen strong above it. She still had -strength to bear and strength to give. But the proud, -stern father had crumpled and died.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again there was the sound of sobbing in the church; -but the intimates of Mrs. Burbeck quickly gathered round -and screened the group of mourners from the eyes of the -people who filed quietly out of the building. For a time -the steady tramp of feet upon the gallery stairs, with the -snort and cough of motor-cars outside, resounded harshly, -and then the church was emptied. Rollie had taken his -mother away. Rose, Dick, and Tayna were gone. The -huge chair by the end of the communion table was emptied -of its burden. That, too, was gone. All the wreckage, -all the past, was gone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old sexton stood sadly by the vestibule door, his -hand upon the light switch, waiting the pleasure of his -pastor for the last time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Absently, John Hampstead climbed the pulpit stairs and -stood leaning on the pulpit itself, surveying in farewell the -empty pews and the empty, groined arches. They had -stood for something that he had tried to do and failed; -but he would try again more humbly, more in the fear of -God, more in the spirit of one who had turned failure into -victory.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Standing thus, looking thus, reflecting thus, John heard -a soft step upon the pulpit stair. It was Bessie, who had -lingered in appreciative silence, the faithful, indulgent -companion of her lover's mood. As she approached, the -rapt man swung out his arm to enfold her, and they stood -together, both leaning upon the pulpit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To-night one ministry has ended," John said presently; -"to-morrow another shall begin."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And it will be a better ministry," breathed Bessie -softly, "because there are two of us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">And they twain shall become one flesh!</em><span>"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>THE END</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line"><span>*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>HELD TO ANSWER</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="cleardoublepage"> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<span id="pg-footer"></span><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><span>A Word from Project Gutenberg</span></h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We will update this book if we find any errors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book can be found under: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44633"><span>http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44633</span></a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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