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diff --git a/44633.txt b/44633.txt deleted file mode 100644 index f566e3d..0000000 --- a/44633.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,17935 +0,0 @@ - HELD TO ANSWER - - - - -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 Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - - - -Title: Held to Answer -Author: Peter Clark Macfarlane -Release Date: January 08, 2014 [EBook #44633] -Language: English -Character set encoding: US-ASCII - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HELD TO ANSWER *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - - - - -[Illustration: "Follow your star, John," Bessie declared stoutly. -FRONTISPIECE. _See page_ 82.] - - - - - HELD - TO ANSWER - - _A NOVEL_ - - - BY - - PETER CLARK MACFARLANE - - AUTHOR OF - THOSE WHO HAVE COME BACK, ETC. - - - - WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY - W. B. KING - - - - NEW YORK - GROSSET & DUNLAP - PUBLISHERS - - - - - _Copyright, 1916,_ - BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. - - _All rights reserved_ - - Published, February, 1916 - Reprinted, February, 1916 (four times) - - - - - *CONTENTS* - - -CHAPTER - -I The Face That Did not Fit -II One Man and Another -III When the Dark Went Away -IV Advent and Adventure -V The Rate Clerk -VI On Two Fronts -VII The High Bid -VIII John Makes Up -IX A Demonstration from the Gallery -X A Stage Kiss -XI Seed to the Wind -XII A Thing Incalculable -XIII The Scene Played Out -XIV The Method of a Dream -XV The Catastrophe -XVI The King Still Lives -XVII When Dreams Come True -XVIII The House Divided -XIX His Next Adventure -XX A Woman with a Want -XXI A Cry of Distress -XXII Pursuit Begins -XXIII Capricious Woman -XXIV The Day of All Days -XXV His Bright Idea -XXVI Unexpectedly Easy -XXVII The First Alarm -XXVIII The Arrest -XXIX The Angel Advises -XXX The Scene in the Vault -XXXI A Misadventure -XXXII The Coward and His Conscience -XXXIII The Battle of the Headlines -XXXIV A Way That Women Have -XXXV On Preliminary Examination -XXXVI A Promise of Strength -XXXVII The Terms of Surrender -XXXVIII Sunday in All People's -XXXIX The Cup Too Full -XL The Elder in the Chair - - - - - *HELD TO ANSWER* - - - - *CHAPTER I* - - *THE FACE THAT DID NOT FIT* - - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -Appreciation of this was advertised in the forgiving chuckle of the -chief clerk who, standing now at the rail, remarked _sotto voce_ to the -orange shipper: "John is as good as a vaudeville act!" - -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: - - -_ACTING TAUGHT_. Charles Kenton, character actor, temporarily -disengaged, will receive a few select pupils in dramatic expression at -his studio in The Albemarle. Terms reasonable. - - -Then John looked across aggressively at the men who had laughed. They -were not laughing now, but nodding in his direction, and whispering -busily. - -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! - -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. - -But here were these foolish men still nodding and whispering. Good -fellows, too, but blind. What did they know about him really? - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"Hampstead is my name," he blurted, with clumsy directness, "John -Hampstead," and the interview with Destiny was on. - -"The first trouble with you," declared the white-haired actor -critically, "is that your face doesn't fit." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"That's it," he iterated. "Your face doesn't fit." - -Hampstead did not wince. - -"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?" - -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. - -"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!" - -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, _it might come out_!" - -Kenton drawled the last words out slowly in a deeply speculative tone, -and then asked abruptly: "How old are you?" - -"Twenty-four," admitted John, feeling suddenly as if he confessed the -years of Methuselah. - -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!" - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -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 -_retrousse_, 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. - -"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?" - -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." - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -"Yes, Miss Bessie, it is dear," John concurred placidly. - -"But you are not looking at it," protested the girl. - -"No," the awkward man confessed, but entirely unabashed, "I am looking -at you--devouringly." - -"Well, you needn't," Bessie answered spicily. - -"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." - -"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." - -"What have you been doing to your hair?" Hampstead demanded critically, -refusing to be diverted. - -"Doing it up, of course, as grown women should," she vouchsafed with -emphasis. "Don't you like it?" - -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. - -"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." - -"But how long ago was that, Sir Critical?" challenged Bessie. - -"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." - -"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." - -"But now that you are doing your hair up high, you will not need me to -take you to the circus again." - -This time the note of sadness in Hampstead's voice was genuine, whereat -all the loyalty in the soul of Bessie leaped up. - -"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." - -"Then I shall do it forever," declared John recklessly. - -"However," and Miss Elizabeth Mitchell, with a playful acquisition of -dignity, switched the subject abruptly by announcing briskly, "business -before circuses." - -"Phrosos before rhinos, as it were," consented John. - -"Yes--now take your pencil and let me dictate." - -"But," bantered John, "I allow no woman to dictate to me. Besides, I -write a perfectly horrible hand." - -"Oh," explained Bessie, "but I want them on the typewriter. It'll make -the other girls wild. None of them can command a typewriter." - -"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." - -"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. - -"Oh, very well," weakened Hampstead, bowing his head, "I cannot brook -that gaze for long. It shall be as your Grace commands." - -"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. - -"I admit it," confessed John, with a happy chuckle. - -But Bessie's restless eye had fallen upon the clock. "Pickles and -artichokes!" she exclaimed, with a sudden change of mood, "I must flit." - -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." - -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. - - - - - *CHAPTER II* - - *ONE MAN AND ANOTHER* - - -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!" - -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. - -From somewhere beyond the dining room came the odor of cooking food, and -the sound of energetic but heavy footsteps. - -"Hello, Rose," called John cheerily. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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?" - -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. - -After another interval, Hampstead remarked: "You seem worried to-night, -Rose." - -"The rent is due to-morrow," she replied in a wooden voice. - -"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. - -"The rent is $17.50," observed Rose, eyeing the coin doubtfully. - -"Keep the change," chuckled John, "and pass the potatoes." - -But the woman's gloom appeared to deepen. - -"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." - -"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. - -"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." - -But the face of his sister refused to kindle. - -"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." - -The boy slipped down from his chair and stood beside his mother, -stroking her arm sympathetically. - -"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!" - -"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!" - -"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!" - -The wife was silently busy with her apron and her eyes. - -"Do you know, Rose," John continued with forced enthusiasm, "my -admiration for Charles grows all the time. He follows his star, that -boy does!" - -"And forgets his family--leaves it to starve!" reproached the sister -bitterly, while the sag of her cheeks became still more noticeable. - -"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." - -"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!" - -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: - -"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?" - -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. - -"Oh, Charles, you did come home; you did come home, didn't you?" she was -crying. - -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. - -"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. - -"Well, well, _las ninas_" (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." - -At the open arms of invitation, both of the children plunged -unhesitatingly; but their reception was brief. - -"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!" - -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. - -"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." - -His wife, still upon her feet, carried him the platter from which the -family had been served. Charles condemned it with a glance. - -"Isn't there something fresh you could give me? Something that hasn't -been--pawed over?" - -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. - -"Why, yes," admitted Rose, without a sign of resentment. "I can get you -something fresh if you will wait a few minutes." - -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!" - -After this Langham leveled his eye on his brother-in-law and asked -airily, "Well, John, how's everything with you?" - -"Fine as silk, Charles," replied Hampstead. "How is it with you?" - -"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. - -As the description was concluded, Rose placed a platter before him, upon -which, garnished with parsley, two small chops appeared, delicately -grilled. - -Abruptly ceasing conversation, Charles sank a knife and fork into one of -them and transferred a generous morsel to his mouth. - -"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. - -"Sold any pictures lately?" asked John casually. - -"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." - -"And if she doesn't," observed Rose pessimistically. - -"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." - -"Fifteen dollars a day," commented Rose thoughtfully. - -"Yes," laughed Langham, his little black eyes a-twinkle, as he clipped -the last morsel from the first of his chops. "The idea!" - -"Well, I hope you took it," his wife suggested. - -"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!" - -"It is the kind of a job for an artist like you," she rejoined -stingingly, with a sarcastic emphasis on just the right words. - -"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. - -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. - -"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." - -"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. - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -Once it was in position, he stood off and admired it, reading aloud: - - "ETERNAL HAMMERING IS THE PRICE OF SUCCESS!" - - -"That's the stuff," he croaked enthusiastically. - -"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!" - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -When John had been reading for perhaps half an hour, there came a -bird-like tap at his door, accompanied by a suppressed giggle. - -"Who comes there?" called the student in sepulchral tones, stabbing the -page at a particular spot with his thumb, while his eyes were lifted. - -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. - -"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. - -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. - -"Uncle John," asked Tayna shyly, burying her face in his neck as she put -the question, "when will you be President?" - -"When _shall_ 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. - -Hampstead cuddled the girl closer, and his eye abandoned the page to -look down the bridge of his nose into distance. - -"Why?" he asked presently. - -"Oh, because," said Tayna, with a little shiver of eagerness, "I can -hardly wait." - -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. - -"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." - -Tayna sighed and reached up a round, plump arm till it encircled -Hampstead's neck, as she asked, still more shyly: - -"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?" - -A flush and a chuckle marked John's reception of this query, after which -he observed hastily and a bit apprehensively: - -"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." - -An instant seriousness came over the children's faces. - -"Cross my heart," murmured Tayna, with a twitch of her slender finger -across her breast. - -"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. - -Hampstead looked relieved. - -"But," affirmed Tayna stoutly, "they are not play secrets. They are -real secrets. Aren't they?" - -John looked up at his motto again. - -"Yes," he said in a low, determined voice. "They are real secrets." - -"And," half-declared, half-questioned Dick, "if you aren't President, -you are going to be some other kind of a very great man? - -"Aren't you?" the boy persisted, when Hampstead was silent. - -"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. - -"Good night, your Excellency!" giggled Tayna. - -"Good night, my counselors," responded Hampstead, reaching for his book. - -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! - -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. - -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! - -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. - -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. - -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. - - - - - *CHAPTER III* - - *WHEN THE DARK WENT AWAY* - - - +--------------------------------+ - | 513 | - | General Freight Department | - | CALIFORNIA CONSOLIDATED | - | RAILWAY COMPANY | - | ROBERT MITCHELL, | - | General Freight Agent. | - | Walk in! | - +--------------------------------+ - - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"Bob," he said, "that's an odd genius, that stenographer out there." - -"Yes," replied Mr. Mitchell absently, without looking up from his work, -and then suddenly he stabbed the atmosphere with a significant rising -inflection: "Genius?" - -"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." - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -"That boy Hampstead," he began abruptly, "is in bad shape." - -"Hampstead!" ejaculated Mr. Mitchell antagonistically, as if it were -impossible that lumbering mass of bone and muscle could ever be in bad -shape. - -"Yes," affirmed the physician, with the air of one who announces a -sensation, "he's likely to go blind!" - -"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. - -"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." - -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." - -"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. - -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: - -"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." - -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. - -"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. - -"Oh," the children both gasped respectfully, and repeated with a kind of -awe in their voices: "From an actor!" - -"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." - -"Awh! An actor-r-r!" breathed Dick again, his features depicting -profoundness both of impression and speculation. - -"Say!" he proposed presently. "I would rather you would be an actor -than a president, anyway." - -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. - -"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. - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -But one day H. B. Anderson, Assistant General Freight Agent of the San -Francisco and El Paso, a rival line, was in the office. - -"Mitchell," Anderson began, "I am compelled to admit your argument reads -a blamed sight stronger than it sounded to me the other day." - -At this the General Freight Agent laughed complacently. - -"The point about the demurrage especially," went on Anderson. "I didn't -remember that somehow." - -"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." - -"Well," confessed Anderson, "it knocks me out. I am now agreeable to -your construction." - -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. - -"Hampstead," he declared with an air of grave reluctance, "I guess I'll -have to lose you, after all." - -"What, sir," gasped John, guilty terror shaking him somewhere inside. - -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. - -"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." - -"It was seven years before you let me get to the window at all," -suggested John, meaning to be a little bit vengeful. - -"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." - -John flushed with pleasure. This was really the most desirable -compliment Mitchell could bestow. - -"I think I am getting a little more confidence in myself," the big man -confessed, glowing modestly. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"John's away at rehearsal," explained Heitmuller, still chuckling. - -"At rehearsal?" - -"Yes,--he's going to play Ursus, the giant, in _Quo Vadis_, with -Mowrey's Stock Company at the Burbank next week." - -"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?" - -"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!" - -"Well, I be damned," Mitchell commented, when Heitmuller had finished. - -"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." - -"Of course not," assented Mitchell. - -"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." - -"Naturally," observed Mitchell drily, after which he dismissed -Heitmuller and appeared to dismiss the subject by turning again to his -desk. - - - - - *CHAPTER IV* - - *ADVENT AND ADVENTURE* - - -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 _Quo Vadis_, 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 protege, 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." - -But the programme claimed something more: that this Ursus was John -Hampstead. - -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: - -"Thou art strong, my son?" - -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: - -"Holy Father! I can break iron like wood!" - -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. - -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. - -"Go to the stable, Ursus!" commanded an authoritative voice. - -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. - -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. - -"Isn't he w-o-n-d-e-r-f-u-l?" breathed Bessie, with a little squeeze of -her father's arm. - -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. - -But the play appeared to have forgotten Ursus. A great party was on in -the palace of Caesar. 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, Caesar 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. - -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 Caesar'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. - -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 Caesar 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: - -"Oh! Oh! He bowed directly at me." - -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." - -In due course, this piece of interesting information reached the -Mitchells in their box. - -"I knew it all along," gurgled Bessie proudly. - -"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." - -"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." - -"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." - -"Your poor Jack!" sneered Mrs. Mitchell merrily. - -"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!" - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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?" - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"Just about like other people," confessed Hampstead to himself, with -something of disappointment. - -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. - -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. - -"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: - -"This chair is a tree--that stage brace is a bench--this box is a rock," -and so forth. - -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. - -"Go there! Stand here! Laugh! Weep! Look pleased! Feign -intoxication!" Each short word was a blow of Mowrey's upon the wet -human sand. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -"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. - -"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. - -"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. - -"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!" - -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?" - -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. - -[Illustration: A foolish quiver passed over him and shook him till he -actually trembled.] - -"Am I so heavy?" asked a matter-of-fact voice from his shoulder. - -"You are not heavy at all," replied Hampstead, hotly provoked at -himself. - -"Run, then," she commanded. - -The resultant effort was a few staggering, ungraceful steps. - -"Dounay weighs a hundred and fifty if she weighs an ounce," said a -passing voice. - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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: - -"We should like to know who it is that is carrying us about." - -"Why, certainly," exclaimed John, all his doubt disappearing in a -toothful smile as he swept off his hat. "My name is Hampstead, John -Hampstead." - -"Miss Dounay, allow me to present Mr. Hampstead," said Miss O'Neil, -without the moulting of an eyelash. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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: - -"What a damn fool that man Lester is!" - -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 blase 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. - -"And I am another!" Hampstead muttered, with a sneer that was aimed -inward. - -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. - -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? - -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. - -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. - -"Let 'er go," called the low, tense voice of Mowrey; and with a rustling -sound the great curtain slipped slowly upward. - - - - - *CHAPTER V* - - *THE RATE CLERK* - - -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. - -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: - -"Ursus! Make a set of tariffs embracing our new lines to correspond -with the commodity tariffs of the San Francisco and El Paso." - -John colored slightly at the thrust of that name Ursus, but looked Mr. -Mitchell fairly and meekly in the eye and answered: - -"Yes, sir." - -"Have them effective July 1st," concluded the General Freight Agent, as -he turned away. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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?" - -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. - -"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. - -"I believe I could," replied John ardently. - -"Then go to it," said Mr. Mitchell tersely. - -And John went to it. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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 _Quo Vadis_, 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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"I was very sorry you did not hear my sermon last night," began Doctor -Campbell blandly, sensing the advantage of striking first. - -"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!" - -The amazed minister's mouth opened, but John repressed his utterance -with a gesture. - -"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." - -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. - -"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!" - -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. - -"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." - -The minister leaned back a little as if to put his understanding more at -poise. - -"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." - -"That is very beautiful, John," said Doctor Campbell, "very beautiful." - -The tribute was sincere, but John was not to be checked even by a -compliment. - -"The stage creates and recreates," he rushed on. "It can raise the -dead. It makes men and women live again--Julius Caesar 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?" - -Doctor Campbell leaned forward now. His mouth was round, his eyes were -widely open. - -"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." - -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. - -"You must have thought that out very carefully, John," he said. - -"Brother Campbell!" answered John fervently, "I have done more than -think it out. I have felt it out. I propose to live it out!" - -But Doctor Campbell had kept his head amid this swirl of words, and his -return was quietly forceful. - -"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." - -This time there was something in the minister's calm tone, in the cool -detachment of his point of view, that held John silent. - -"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?" - -"Why, of course I am," ejaculated Hampstead impulsively. - -"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?" - -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. - -The minister was a wise man. He read the sign and asked no questions. -He upbraided nothing, cackled no exultant, "I told you so." - -"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. - -"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!" - -Doctor Campbell might have been praying for himself. But John knew that -this was only a part of his tact. - -As the two men rose, John felt a sudden impulse to defend the stage from -himself. - -"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." - -"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. - - - - - *CHAPTER VI* - - *ON TWO FRONTS* - - -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. - -"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! - -"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." - -Mitchell answered: - -"Decline to withdraw; our tariffs issued on actual basis on which -charges are assessed." - -The fight was on. - -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. - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"Well, Jack," he began, after an interval of silence, "what about the -stage?" - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -And from there it was only a short, easy step to the position of -Assistant General Freight Agent. - -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. - -"Your advancement would be very rapid," suggested Mr. Mitchell, flicking -his flies skilfully upon the whirling eddies of the young man's thought. - -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. - -"You have a strong vein of traffic in your blood," the General Freight -Agent began adroitly, but John broke in upon him. - -"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." - -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: - -"What is your plan, John?" - -"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." - -"Without money!" exclaimed Mr. Mitchell, in surprise. - -"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." - -Mr. Mitchell's small, prudent eyes looked disfavor at a spendthrift. - -"However," he suggested, "you have only yourself to think of." - -"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." - -"That's a handicap," declared Mitchell flatly. - -"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--" - -Hampstead gulped queerly. - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -"It's William N. Scofield," he exclaimed. "He wants me to take dinner -with him at his club to-night." - -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. - -"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." - -Hampstead pressed his hand to his brow. Under his tawny thatch ideas -were in a whirl. - -"What shall I do?" he asked rather helplessly. - -"Stay over," commanded Mitchell unhesitatingly. "Ring up and tell him -you'll be there." - -"But there's no use, anyway," replied John suddenly, getting back to the -main point. "My mind's made up." - -"No man's mind is made up when he's going to take dinner on the -proposition with William N. Scofield," answered Mitchell oracularly. - -"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--" - -But the telephone was tingling impatiently. - -"Mr. Scofield wants to know," began a voice. - -"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. - -"Very well. His car will call for you at six-thirty," responded the -voice. - -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. - -"Come in," called Mitchell. - -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. - -"Miss Bessie!" exclaimed John excitedly. - -"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. - -"Mollie!" ejaculated Mitchell, who by this time had turned toward the -door. "What in thunder?" - -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. - -"Is this an accident or a calamity?" demanded Mitchell, playfully -thrusting Bessie aside and advancing to greet his wife. - -"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: - -"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." - -"Fine idea!" declared Mitchell. "Fine! Now that you've had it," he -chuckled, "we'll start home. I'm leaving at eight." - -"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. - -"And the business of the company?" Mitchell suggested, with a solicitous -air. - -"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." - -"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." - -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. - -"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." - -"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: - -"'_I shall in all my best obey you, madam._'" - -"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. - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -"Scofield is after him," bragged Mitchell. - -"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: - -"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: - -"No, Mrs. Mitchell, I would not sell myself!" - -"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!" - -"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." - -"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." - -"It was not," flashed Bessie. "I did. I haven't seen dear old John for -a year. I could go in and have delightful tete-a-tetes 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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - - - - - *CHAPTER VII* - - *THE HIGH BID* - - -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. - -"Gad, but you know a lot," ejaculated Scofield, with unfeigned -amazement. "Where'd you get it all?" - -"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. - -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! - -"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." - -The railroad man interrupted his speech to shoot an exploratory glance -from under veiling lids and went on calculatingly: - -"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. - -"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." - -"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. - -"Naturally not," admitted the younger man. - -"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." - -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. - -"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!" - -If Scofield had leaned over and kissed him, John would not have been -more surprised, nor have known less what to say. - -"General Freight Agent!" he croaked hoarsely. - -"Yes," affirmed the other coolly, almost icily, while he flicked the -ashes from his cigar and enjoyed the sensation his proposal had -produced. - -"At my age?" stumbled John, still groping, but trying to see himself in -the position. - -"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." - -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. - -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. "_No, Mrs. -Mitchell, I would not sell myself,_" he had said, not, however, meaning -at all what that lady meant. - -Leaning back stubbornly, his fist smiting heavy blows upon the cushioned -arm of the chair, John muttered through clenched teeth: - -"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." - -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. - -But the young man refused to be swerved by frowns. - -"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." - -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: - -"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." - -"Say!" broke in Scofield; but John would not be denied what he felt was -a final smashing generalization. - -"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. - -But by this time a smile of cynic pity had appeared upon the face of the -railroad man. - -"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!" - -John gasped. - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -But the thin, talon-like hand of Scofield was hooking the young man's -rather flaccid palm for a moment. - -"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!" - -The last word was flung bitingly, like an epithet. - -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. - -However, Bessie would be there for three days to help him, and with this -thought he felt comforted. - - * * * * * - -"It's been a great three days," sighed John, on the following Tuesday. -Bessie also sighed. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -The gray eyes burned brighter, the lips grew tighter. The chin advanced, -moved out to sea a little, as it were. - -"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." - -"The decision is made," John replied solemnly, "and you, Bessie, have -helped to make it." - -Bessie did not reply; she only looked. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -Indeed Bessie was closer to him than she had ever been before; and yet -she had never felt so far away. - -"Oh, but it's great to have a woman by you in a crisis," John chuckled -happily. - -Bessie looked up startled. John had called her woman. But she recovered -from the start,--he had also called her _a_ woman. - -"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. - -"Not at all," sighed Bessie, also still looking oceanward. - -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. - -"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." - -"Indeed!" retorted Hampstead. "And when did you learn the difference -between me and the other word?" - -"Well, I'm not sure that there is a difference," she sparred. "Being -polite, I just concede it." - -"Oh," he chuckled. "But," and he was serious again, "you say we don't -understand each other?" - -"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!" - -"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. - -"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.'" - -"Did you say that?" asked Bessie happily. - -"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--'" - -"John!" - -There was in Bessie's sudden exclamation the surcharged sense of all the -proprieties which their relationship involved. - -"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." - -"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: - -"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." - -"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." - -"Slow, about some things, am I not?" confessed John. "Awfully, awfully -slow!" - -"I will agree with you," said Bessie, with a mournfulness that literally -compelled him to perceive that she was some way disappointed in him. - -"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?" - -"Oh, yes," she answered frankly. "I admire you a lot." - -"But you're disappointed about something?" - -"Apprehension is the better word," she confessed soberly. - -"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. - -"You think I'll fail?" John demanded. - -"No," disclaimed Bessie seriously. "I think you will succeed!" - -"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. - -"Yes," she breathed softly, "I think so!" - -"And you do not think me silly for turning my back upon solid realities -to follow my ideal?" - -"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." - -The look in her face did express that, and Hampstead noticed it now. - -"Ah," he murmured, pressing her arms against her sides, "you dear, -impressionable little girl!" - -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. - -"Why, Bessie," he exclaimed, amazed, "you are going to cry!" - -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. - -"You are crying," he charged straightly. - -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. - -"Bessie!" he murmured feelingly, "I am going to kiss you!" - -Bessie did not appear half as surprised at this announcement as -Hampstead at himself for making it. - -"May I?" he persisted. - -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." - -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. - - - - - *CHAPTER VIII* - - *JOHN MAKES UP* - - -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. - -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. - -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. - -John thereafter told no other manager this, but learned instead the -value of a "front", and inserted in the professional columns of the _San -Francisco Dramatic Review_ a card which read: - - - +------------------+ - | | - | JOHN HAMPSTEAD | - | HEAVY | - | AT LIBERTY | - | | - +------------------+ - - -"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." - -This card appeared for three succeeding weeks, but on the fourth week -there was a significant change. It read: - - - +-----------------------------------+ - | | - | JOHN HAMPSTEAD | - | HEAVY | - | With the People's Stock Company | - | | - +-----------------------------------+ - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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?" - -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. - -"What were you playing last, I say?" bullied Halson, as if suddenly -suspicious. - -But John had rallied. "If I don't get the experience, how will I ever -become an actor," was what he said to himself. - -"My last season was in Shakespeare," was what he observed to Halson, -with deliberate dignity. - -"Oh," exclaimed the stage manager, much relieved. "That explains it. I -was beginning to think somebody had sawed off a blooming amateur on me." - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -"How do you think it'll go?" Neumeyer had asked anxiously. - -"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." - -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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -In the midst of this artistry, Jarvis Parks, the character man, who had -been assigned to dress with Hampstead, entered. - -"Hello," said John, with an attempt at unconcern. - -"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. - -"Half hour!" sang the voice of the call boy from below stairs. - -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. - -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. - -"Fifteen minutes," sang the voice of the call boy. - -Hampstead could really contain his self-complacency no longer. - -"Well," he exclaimed, turning squarely on Parks, "what do you think of -it?" - -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. - -"Great!" responded Parks drily, but again there was that look upon his -face which Hampstead could not quite interpret. - -"Five minutes!" was bellowed up the stairway. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"Shall I pray, too?" he asked, and then answered resolutely, "No! Let's -wait and see what God'll do to me." - -His throat was arid. His lips, from the drying spirit gum and the -excess of grease paint, were stiff and unresponsive. - -"_Eternal Hammering is the Price of Success_" 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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"In the name of God!" he hissed huskily. "Hampstead, what have you been -doing to yourself?" - -"Doing to myself?" exclaimed John, trying for one final minute to fend -off fate. "Why? What do you mean?" - -Halson's voice floated up in a half humorous wail of despair, as he -rolled his eyes sickly toward the flies. - -"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?" - -But Halson was interrupted by a sudden silence from the front. The -orchestra had stopped. The curtain was about to rise. - -"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!" - -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: - -"You poor, miserable, God-forsaken amateur!" - -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. - -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. - -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." - -"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. - -But now the orchestra grew still again. - -"Aw-right," husked Halson, and Hampstead heard that ominous, sliding, -rustling sound which to the actor is like no other in all the world. - - - - - *CHAPTER IX* - - *A DEMONSTRATION FROM THE GALLERY* - - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -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. - -"Stanley's lost; he's ad-libbing to beat the band," John heard Page -remark. - -_Ad-libbing_! 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 _ad libitum_. 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. - -Neumeyer, the "angel", came in from the front and added his white, -agitated face to the awed groups standing about the wings. - -"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." - -"Your cue is coming," bawled Page to John. - -"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!" - -But to his surprise, Hampstead's eye glinted with the light of battle. - -"Worry?" he exclaimed excitedly. "Watch me. I'm going to get 'em!" - -Halson gazed in pure pity. - -"Get 'em," he gutturaled. "You poor, God-forsaken amateur!" - -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. - -"What star's this?" shrieked a voice on one side the gallery. - -"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. - -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. - -Hampstead was, moreover, used to rough houses. He had faced them more -than once on his own barn-storming one-night appearances. - -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 _raconteur_, 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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"Man!" he exclaimed. "Man! You saved it! You saved it!" - -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. - -The audience, too, was excitedly expressing itself with hand-clappings -and foot-stampings. - -"Scatter!" bawled Page. - -The stage swiftly cleared of people as the curtain began to rise. - -"Miss Harlan!" Page was shouting. "Mr. Stanley! Mr. Hampstead!" - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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: - -"_Who is the greatest leading woman on the American stage?_" - -"Louise Harlan!" chanted every voice on the floor, their tones mingling -merrily, as if they were playing a familiar game. - -"Right-o," sang Dick, and chanted next: "_Who is the greatest leading -man on the American stage?_" - -"Billie Stanley!" chorused the voices, with shrieks of laughter. - -"And who," inquired Dick, with an insinuating change in his voice, "_who -is the greatest juvenile man in America?_" - -"Rich-a-r-r-r-d Bordwell!" screamed the magpies. - -"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: - -"_And who is the greatest amateur heavy on the American stage?_" - -As if they had been waiting for it, the voices burst out like a college -yell: - -"_John Hampstead! John Hampstead, is the greatest amateur heavy on the -American stage!_" - -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. - -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. - -But the climax of this climactic night for John was reached when, -descending the stairway, Halson honored him with an astounding -confidence. - -"Marien Dounay joins the People's to-morrow," he whispered excitedly. - -"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 _East Lynne_." - -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, _East Lynne_, in this out-at-elbows -company, and in this old barn of a house! Impossible! - -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. - -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: - -"By the way, Halson, what do I play in _East Lynne_?" - -"You play the lead," affirmed Halson, with dramatic emphasis. - -"The lead?" John gulped, struggling as if a cobblestone had just been -tossed into his throat. - -"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. - -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. - - - - - *CHAPTER X* - - *A STAGE KISS* - - -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. - -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 _East Lynne_, -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. - -Had she changed much in the four months since he had held her in his -arms? Not at all, unless to grow more beautiful. - -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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"This woman is a friend of yours," Parks proposed tentatively. - -"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." - -Parks indulged a self-satisfied chuckle at the keenness of his own -discernment. - -"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." - -"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?" - -"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." - -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?" - -As the days went on, John's wonder grew. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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 _sotto voce_ 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: - -"There is a daub of smut on the end of your nose." - -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. - -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 _was_ breaking up! He _was_ 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. - -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: - -"Don't, John! Don't." - -The tone of her voice was pleading. She, the proud, had cringed. She -had called him John. She had surrendered. - -"It was just a mean little fib," she whispered, and for a moment clung -to him helplessly. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -But the male instinct to gloat was the first clear thought. - -"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. - -"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. - - - - - *CHAPTER XI* - - *SEED TO THE WIND* - - -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. - -"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." - -There was a suggestion in this which John resented. - -"I'm going up, too," he rejoined with the defiant exuberance of youth, -"but on my own steam." - -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. - -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. - -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 cafes, 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. - -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 _East Lynne_! 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. - -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? - -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. - -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. - -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: - -"Come home to supper with me, John." - -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? _How_ was she? - -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. - -"Should I?" he asked huskily, as the door stood open. "Would it -be--proper?" - -"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." - -While the light of reassurance kindled on John's face, Marien gently -drew him inside. - -"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?" - -"Dear!" That was a woman's word. Bessie said that about her invitation -paper for the Phrosos. - -"Dear?" he breathed, comparing it in one swift estimating glance to his -own barren cell. "It's a paradise!" - -"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!" - -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. - -"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!" - -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. - -"Now!" called the voice of Marien cheerily, awakening him with a sudden -thrill to the realization of her presence. - -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. - -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. - -A low divan ran along one side of the room, piled high with gay -cushions. Near the foot of it was a Roman chair. - -"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: - -"As a mark of special favor." - -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. - -Her face took on an amused smile, and the boot wiggled suggestively. - -"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. - -"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." - -Marien laughed happily. - -"Stage women!" John added, as if by an afterthought. - -"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!" - -"I beg your pardon," stammered John. "But there are so very many of -these buttons." - -After an interval during which Marien had appeared to watch his labors -with amused interest, she asked, with mocking humor: - -"Are you hurrying or delaying? I can't quite make out." - -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: - -"Are you a man or a boy, I wonder?" - -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. - -"That's the Ursus look," she laughed softly, as if it pleased her. - -A silver cigarette case was on a tabaret within reach of her hand. - -"Have a cigarette!" she proposed. - -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: - -"You do not smoke?" - -"And I do not think women should," Hampstead replied, with level eyes. - -"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: - -"You never smoked?" - -"Oh, yes," confessed John, "but I quit it. I decided it would not be -good for me." - -She regarded him narrowly, and asked: - -"You would not do a thing which did not appear good for you?" - -There was just a little accent on the "good." - -"I have tried to calculate my resources," John confessed, resenting that -accent. - -Again Miss Dounay contemplated him in silence. - -"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?" - -Marien was making a play upon his word "calculate." - -"Seven years, I should say," replied John, thinking back. - -"Seven years?" she mused. "Seven! And you feel that it has paid?" - -"Immensely," replied John aggressively. - -"By the way, how old are you, Ursus?" - -This was what the old actor had asked. People were always asking John -how old he was. - -"Twenty-five," John answered a trifle apologetically. "I got started -late. And you?" - -The question was put without hesitation, as if it were the next thing to -say. - -"A man does not ask a woman her age in polite conversation," suggested -Marien tentatively. - -"He does not," replied John quickly, "if he thinks the answer is likely -to be embarrassing." - -Marien's face flushed with pleasure. - -"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." - -"For seven years. How odd!" remarked John, rather excited at -discovering even a slight parallel between himself and this brilliant -creature. - -"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--_calculating_ years." - -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. - -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! - -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. - -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! - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -This silence continued until it became oppressive, explosive even. - -Would she not speak? He could not. Would she not move? He dared not. - -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. - -"Don't touch me--don't," he found himself pleading suddenly. - -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. - -Laughing softly, Woman drew Man gently to her, his eyes gazing -fascinated into the depths of hers, his body bending weakly, nearer and -nearer. - -"John!" she breathed softly, "John!" - -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. - -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. - -In sudden compunction he placed her tenderly upon the divan. - -"I have hurt you, Marien; I have hurt you. Forgive me; oh, forgive me!" -he implored in tones of deep feeling. - -When she remained quite motionless, he asked, foolishly, "Marien, have -you fainted?" - -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. - -"Thank God!" he groaned, dropping to his knees beside her, where, -seizing her hand, he began to press his kisses upon it. - -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. - -"I thought I had hurt you," he crooned. - -"You did," she murmured. - -"Oh, I am so, so sorry," he breathed, seizing her hand once more and -pressing it against his heart. - -"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. - -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: - -"The--the calculated life cannot always be depended upon, can it?" - -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. - -"Let me go," he said stubbornly. "I am unworthy to be here." - -"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!" - -"Supper, Madame!" piped the voice of Julie. - - - - - *CHAPTER XII* - - *A THING INCALCULABLE* - - -One whole month passed before John sat again at midnight in the Roman -chair with Marien _vis-a-vis_ 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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -And he loved her! Doubt on that score had vanished so many days ago -that he could not remember he had ever doubted it. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"Listen!" he broke out excitedly, and began to pour out impetuously the -tale of his swiftly ripened infatuation. - -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. - -"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." - -But Marien held him off with sudden strength. - -"Marien, I love you. I love you," he protested vehemently. - -"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." - -John's blond brows were lifted in mute protest. - -"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." - -"Never again?" Hampstead gasped, something in the finality of her tone -thrilling him through with a hollow, sickening note. - -Her eyelids narrowed as she replied: "You forget that I, too, live the -calculating life." - -There was again that mysteriously sinister meaning in her utterance of -the word "calculating." - -"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!" - -"But I love you, Marien," John iterated weakly. - -"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. - -"When I am at the top," she proposed loftily. - -"But the better part of life may be gone then," John protested bitterly. -"The top! When shall we reach the top?" - -"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." - -"But," exulted John, "you are not at the top yet. I may arrive first!" - -Marien looked him up and down and laughed, just laughed,--about the look -and laugh that Parks had given him. - -Hampstead's eager face flushed. - -"You do not think that possible," he challenged aggressively. - -"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." - -"But our love," John protested helplessly. - -"Who said 'our love,'" Marien declaimed almost petulantly. "I have not -confessed to any love." - -"But--but," and John's eyes opened widely, "you would not permit--" - -"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?" - -"Did it mean--no more than that?" - -John's eyes searched hers accusingly. - -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. - -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. - -"Marien," he murmured hoarsely, with sudden emotion. "Marien!" - -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. - -"Good-by, Miss Dounay," he said huskily. - -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: - -"Good night, Marien." - -"Good-by, John," she answered sweetly. - -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." - -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. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIII* - - *THE SCENE PLAYED OUT* - - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -Hampstead summoned grimly all his resolution and dipped his pen in ink. - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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 role. - -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? - -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?" - -"Charles Manning of New York," was the reply; "specially engaged for -this and three other roles." - -"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. - -Look at that now! The stage direction had required Manning to take -Marien in his arms for a minute. Hampstead ground his teeth. - -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. - -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. - -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 _Dramatic Review_ to dispatch it. - - -"Dear Marien," he wrote. "I must see you to-night. I will call at -twelve. JOHN." - - -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. - - -"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?" - - -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. - -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. - -"_Stage the scene and play it out for you?_" What could she mean by -that. - -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. - -"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." - -"But I must see her, Julie!" John pleaded huskily, rather throwing -himself upon the mercy of the little French woman. - -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. - -"If you go quickly to the entrance of Antone's," she suggested -hurriedly, "you will see Madame arriving presently in an automobile." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -"Yes," he replied brusquely; "that seat yonder in the corner where I can -see the whole show." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -But what was that? - -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? - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -"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--_herself_!" - -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: - -"You understand now, don't you, Gustav Litschi? You realize what I am -offering to the man who buys me opportunity?" - -Her heart--her soul--herself! Hampstead, having started up, sat down -again weakly, the cold sweat of horror standing out upon his brow. - -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. - -"Why, this woman was spiritually--morally--potentially, a--" he could -barely let himself think the hateful word. To utter it was impossible. - -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--_prostitute_! 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. - -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. - -"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?" - -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. - -"Yes," he said, meeting her gaze unflinchingly, "I understand!" - -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. - -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. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIV* - - *THE METHOD OF A DREAM* - - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -This was exciting; the image might change still further till it -definitely resembled some one else. - -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. - -"Bessie!" John cried, with a welcoming shout of incoherent joy. -"Bessie!" - -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! - -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? - -"Passion," he told himself scornfully, "mere passion." - -"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?" - -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. - -"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." - -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 roles -John dotingly had ascribed to her, and his professional contacts -afforded few glimpses of the real Marien by which his drawing could be -corrected. - -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. - -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. - -"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?" - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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." - -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: - -"Eternal _Loyalty_ is the Price of Success." - -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! - -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. - -His glance had just paused mystified at the sight of the unopened -telegram upon the dresser when there was a knock at the door. - -With a stride, John turned the key and swung open the door. - -Bud, the fourteen-year-old call boy of the Sampson Theater, entered; a -breathless, self-important youngster with freckles and a stubby -pompadour. - -"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. - -"Hey," exclaimed Hampstead, looking up sharply, "my sister?" - -"Ye-uh," affirmed Bud stoutly. "Mr. Cohen's got a letter from her, and -she wants to know if yer sick 'r anything." - -"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!" - -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. - -"Say, Mr. Hampstead," he broke out impulsively, with an embarrassed note -in his voice, "I'm sorry you got your notice!" - -"Got my notice?" asked John a bit sharply. - -"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." - -But John was roused now, thoroughly. - -"Why, Bud, what are you talking about?" he demanded, turning accusingly -to the boy. - -"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." - -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. - -"What did I get this for, Bud?" he asked, sensing the uselessness of -dissimulation before this impertinent child. - -"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." - -Hampstead's face took on a queer, half-amused look. - -"Is that what he said?" - -"That's what he said," affirmed Bud aggressively. - -"Well, then, all right, Bud. I will cut it out. Here's my hand on it." - -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." - -"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. - -"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!" - -Bud's drawling scorn was inimitable. - -"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?" - -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!" - -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. - - - - - *CHAPTER XV* - - *THE CATASTROPHE* - - -Bud was right. John had not heard him. He stood with the telegram torn -open in his hand. - - -"Charles fell from El Capitan," it ran. "Body brought here. ROSE." - - -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!" - -For a reflective interval the gray, startled eyes set themselves on -distance and then turned again to the message. It was dated April 4. - -April 4? What day was this? - -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? - -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. - -"Poor, poor Rose!" he groaned. "What must she think of me?" - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"Your sister," Doctor Morrison wrote, "has suffered a complete nervous -breakdown. Long rest with complete relief from financial care is -imperative." - -This letter stirred John to immediate action. He rushed to the -long-distance telephone. The telegraph was not quick enough. - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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 _his -stage career was ended_! - -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. - -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. - -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. - -If Bessie were only here! - -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. - -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! - -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: - -"Eternal Loyalty is the Price of Success." - -"Loyalty to what?" he demanded fiercely of himself. To his ambition? Or -to two little growing lives that trusted and believed in him? - -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. - -"And yet," he reflected after a moment, "why not?" - -"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. - - * * * * * - -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. - -The play for this, his final week, was _Hamlet_, 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 _Hamlet_ 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. - -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. - -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." - -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. - -"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. - - - - - *CHAPTER XVI* - - *THE KING STILL LIVES* - - -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. - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -"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. - -"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!" - -One hundred dollars a week! John looked his incredulity. - -"What were you doing before?" inquired the manager. - -"Acting!" - -"Selling books is like acting," mused the manager. "If you are a good -actor, you could make a hundred a week easy." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -"An ex-clergyman," voted Hampstead shrewdly, because, aside from his -dress, the man looked aggressively unclerical. - -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. - -"Some sort of a missionary secretary, I'll bet you," was John's second -venture at identification. - -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. - -"Nailing up God!" commented John, whose mood had become sardonic. - -"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. - -The missionary secretary had noted John's advance and appeared to -recognize that his chance interest was legitimate. - -"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." - -"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. - -"And who was the disturber?" queried John. "A man of bad character, I -suppose." - -"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." - -"Near facts, they was--_only_," 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. - -"Rather undermining the faith of the people in the old Gospel," went on -the Evangelist. - -"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." - -Brother Burbeck's tones, as he contributed this additional detail, were -as sharp as his blows. - -"You were one of the Elders?" inquired John, in an even voice that might -have been construed to mean respect for the eldership. - -"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." - -"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. - -"Yep," admitted that gentleman, just as dryly. - -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. - -"You know what this reminds me of, somehow?" he asked, with just a minor -note of accusation in his tone. - -"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. - -"Nailing Jesus to the Cross," replied John, shooting a glance at Burbeck -that was hard and beamlike. - -"Hey!" exclaimed Burbeck, his red face reddening more. - -"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." - -"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 _status quo_?" - -"Yes," replied the Secretary, smiling faintly, as he noticed the shaft -of humor in John's eye. - -"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 _status quo_?" - -"Yes," assented the Missionary, smiling yet more faintly, after which he -countered with: "Are you a Christian, my brother?" - -"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." - -The Secretary's face lighted with unexpected pleasure. - -"How do you do, Brother Hampstead," he exclaimed, putting out his hand -quickly. "My name's Harding." - -"Glad to meet you, Brother Harding," said John; "I've seen your name in -the church papers." - -"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. - -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." - -"I got over that nonsense," said John easily. "Sorry to hear you've -been having trouble in your little church." - -"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. - -"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." - -"Dwindled to a handful of children," declared Burbeck, as if a handful -of children was something entirely negligible. - -John had a reason for feeling especially tender where the feelings of -children were concerned. - -"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?" - -"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. - -Their task completed, the Elder and the Evangelist were turning toward -the street. "Good-by, Brother," said Harding, again shaking hands. - -"Oh, good-by, Brother Hampstead," exclaimed Burbeck, turning as if he -had forgotten something, and offering his stout, once sinewy palm. - -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. - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -On John's own level, the world was faring onward very happily. - -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 _status -quo_, nailed rudely across its front, was a brutal advertisement of its -dishonored state. - -"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." - -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. - -"Won't they be disappointed, though? Those children!" - -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. - -"And they nailed up God!" Hampstead commented grimly, swinging upon his -car. - -That afternoon at five o'clock he left for Los Angeles. - - - - - *CHAPTER XVII* - - *WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE* - - -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. - -"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. - -"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." - -"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." - -"But if I rather favor Stanford myself?" suggested Hampstead, feeling -his way carefully. - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -Hampstead thought he had never seen such a glowing picture of animal -health and exuberance of life. - -"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?" - -Bessie blushed, but John covered her confusion by exclaiming: - -"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. - -"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." - -"Oh, let's," assented Bessie, with animation. "Only wait till I change -my hat!" - -"Don't," pleaded John. "I like that one." - -"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. - -"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!" - -"Never doubt it," echoed John, with the sudden feeling of a man who is -left alone in a house to guard great riches. - - -"How do you like it?" - -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. - -"Wonderful!" John exclaimed rapturously, rising as she entered. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"Bessie," he asked, abruptly, "could we get away from here quickly--in a -very few minutes--away from men and houses and things?" - -Bessie looked surprised. "Of course; we're going out, aren't we?" - -"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." - -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. - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -As for Bessie, she, too, had developed an ambition and surprised John -into delightful little raptures with her statement of it. - -"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." - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -"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?" - -Bessie's features expressed wonder and delightful anticipation. - -"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!" - -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. - -"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!" - -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. - -Bessie, her face enraptured, did not speak, but her dimples behaved -skittishly, and there was a sharp little catch of her breath. - -"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." - -Suddenly a choke came in the big man's voice. - -"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!" - -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. - -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. - -"Well," she breathed naively, "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!" - -Bessie accompanied the words with an ecstatic little shrug of the -shoulders and a self-abandoning toss of the head. - -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. - -"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." - -Bessie looked up suddenly. It seemed to her that John's heart had done -a funny thing; that it staggered and missed a beat. - -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. - -"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!" - -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. - -"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. - - * * * * * - -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. - -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! - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -"You may go back to Marien Dounay," she exclaimed hotly. "I do not want -her left-overs." - -"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!" - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -"Bessie!" John murmured huskily, after an interval. - -"Don't speak to me, don't!" she commanded hoarsely, without turning her -head. - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -"Is not the strong man the one who has found in what his weakness lies?" -John pleaded humbly. - -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. - -"But you love me!" pleaded John from behind her, his voice coming up out -of depths. - -"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. - -"No! No!" she continued, stamping her foot angrily, "I don't love you, -I love the man I thought you were." - -"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." - -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. - -"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. - - - - - *CHAPTER XVIII* - - *THE HOUSE DIVIDED* - - -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. - -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! - -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. - -"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!" - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"The eternal woman!" commented John reverently. "So Mary waited at the -tomb." - -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. - -"Teacher! Teacher!" - -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. - -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. - -"This is my cue," John declared with decision, rising from his seat and -crossing to the chapel. - -"My name's Hampstead," he began, taking off his hat to the girl. "I -belong to the First Church, Los Angeles." - -"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." - -"You seem to be embarrassed," John proceeded. - -"Whatever shall I do?" confessed the young lady, looking at the barred -door, at her charges about her, and at John. - -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. - -"Bet y' he can't," speculated an urchin whose chubby toes were frankly -barefoot and energetically digging into the sod of the lawn. - -"Bet yuh he will," instantly countered another, shifting his gum. - -"Oh, I do hope you can!" sighed the fairy thing with the curls down her -back and the eyes like the sky. - -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. - -But Elder Burbeck had locked the door. - -"A hairpin?" queried John of the sky blue eyes. - -"I have not come to hairpins yet," blushed the teacher of the infant -class. - -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. - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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: - -"My name's Hampstead,--First Church, Los Angeles." - -"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?" - -"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. - -"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. - -"My name's Hampstead," he began. "First Church, Los Angeles. I just -happened in." - -"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." - -"Guess I'm responsible for that," replied John. "I just kind of butted -in." - -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. - -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. - -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: - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -As the Elder gazed, his expression changed perceptibly, and he reached -up and took off his high hat, lowering it slowly, but reverently. - -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 _status quo_ 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. - -"You broke open the house of the Lord," charged Elder Burbeck sternly. - -"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. - -[Illustration: "You nailed it up," rebutted John flatly.] - -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. - -"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. - -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. - -"The church was closed by order of the District Evangelist," he urged, -but his urging, even to himself, sounded strangely lacking in force. - -"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. - -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: - -"You need some windows open, Brother Hampstead! You go on with your -superintending; I'll attend to that myself." - -Immediately the Elder laid his tall hat upon the pulpit steps and busied -himself with opening the windows at the top. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"The Angel of the Chair!" murmured Miss Plummer in John's ear, as she -passed to a seat with Miss Armstrong. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"I am Mrs. Burbeck," the lady said pleasantly in a rich contralto voice. - -Hampstead all but gasped. This delicate, spirituelle creature that -hard, red-faced partisan's wife! It seemed impossible. - -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. - -"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." - -"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." - -The Angel, it appeared, was a woman with deeps of calm strength in her. - -"You have been a real minister in what you have done this morning," she -said contentedly, entirely undisturbed by John's embarrassed frankness. - -"But how am I going to get out from under?" gasped the young man, -feeling more and more that he could trust this woman. - -The Angel of the Chair smiled inspiringly. - -"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." - -The Angel was looking straight up at John now, searching his eyes for a -moment, then adding significantly: - -"I do not think you are a quitting sort of person." - -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. - -"And what," he asked, "does the minister do when he has received this -decoration from the Angel of the Chair?" - -It was Mrs. Burbeck's turn to feel a flush of pleasure at this -appellation from a stranger. - -"Why," she smiled, her large eyes lighting persuasively, "he goes into -the pulpit and announces a hymn." - -"Which I am not going to do," declared John, "because I should not know -what to do next." - -"In that hour it shall be given you," quoted the lady. - -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. - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"That's all I have to say, brethren," he declared abruptly, his voice -growing suddenly hollow. "I am terrified. I want to get away!" - -Without even the singing of a hymn, John lifted his hand, bowed his -head, and murmured something that was to pass for a benediction. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIX* - - *HIS NEXT ADVENTURE* - - -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. - -That adventure came when blue-eyed Helen of the Infant Class said -pleadingly: - -"Oh, Brother Hampstead! Will you call on Sister Showalter this -afternoon and read a chapter? She is very ill and lonely." - -"Yes," assented John recklessly. "But explain who it is that's -coming--a book agent--to read to her." - -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. - -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. - -"My name is Hampstead," he explained. "I called to see the sick lady." - -"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." - -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. - -"Mother!" said the woman, speaking loudly, as if to waken a soul from -the depths, "this is Brother Hampstead!" - -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. - -The woman appeared to John almost lifeless. He felt embarrassment and -resentment. Why didn't they tell him she was like this? - -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. - -"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. - -"The minister of God!" croaked the voice so faintly that the words -barely traveled the necessary six inches to his ear. - -No man ever felt less like the minister of God. Hampstead was hot, -flustered, self-conscious, almost irritated. - -But again he felt the hand like an undertow, tugging him down. - -"Read to me!" croaked the ghost of a voice. - -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. - -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. - -"She likes to have the minister pray with her," said the voice of the -Gloom Woman from the background, when the reading was concluded. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"Oh!" sobbed a voice from the gloom. - -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. - -John lifted his hand helplessly. - -"It--it doesn't let go," he whispered. - -The doctor glanced at the embarrassed Hampstead searchingly, then -reached over and straightened the aged fingers. - -"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!" - -The earnestness of the doctor brought a lump into John's throat. - -"Thank you, sir," he murmured, but immediately was lost in looking -curiously at the thing upon the pillows. - -"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. - -John went and stood beside the Gloom Woman. - -"Mother is go--h-h-gone!" she sobbed. - -"Yes," said Hampstead simply. - -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. - -"Let the tears flow, sister," he suggested, "it is good for you." - -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? - -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. - -"You _are_ a minister of God!" declared the Gloom Woman with sudden -conviction. - -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. - -This made him want to fly more than ever; but he managed first to ask: -"Is there anything more that I can do?" - -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. - -But the Bay zephyrs could not wash that series of vivid experiences, -half-ghastly and half-inspiring, out of mind. - -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! - -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. - -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. - -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! - - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"Things are pretty hot," remarked the Dean under his breath, coming up -to read the report. - -"They are awful," groaned the District Evangelist. - -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. - -But the Dean was reading his report now, in a high, lecture-room voice. -It was very brief. - -"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. - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -"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!" - -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: - -"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! - -"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. - -"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!' - -"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. - -"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! - -"I hate sham. I hate professionalism. I am done with part-playing. I -will not do it. I cannot be your minister!" - -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. - -In the silence, the voice of the District Evangelist was presently -audible. - -"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." - -"But," protested John, with a gesture of desperation, "I am not educated -for the ministry." - -"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!" - -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. - -"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!" - -"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." - -"Being honest with yourself, do you not believe that you can save this -church?" argued Brother Harding. - -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. - -Suddenly a man stood up in the back of the church. - -"Will he take a side?" this man demanded excitedly, with hoarse -impatience. "What side is he on?" - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -She had barely reached the front when the tall form of Elder Burbeck was -seen to advance stiffly and offer his hand to Hampstead. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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!" - -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: - - "Take my life and let it be - Consecrated, Lord, to Thee, - Take my hands and let them move - At the impulse of Thy love." - - -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. - -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. - -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. - - - - - *CHAPTER XX* - - *A WOMAN WITH A WANT* - - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"More beautiful than ever!" murmured the minister with the emphasis of -deep conviction. - -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!" - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -It was only after the man had gone that John felt strangely weak with -fright and bewildered by an odd sense of deliverance. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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 _do_ 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. - -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. - -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. - -"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." - -"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--" - -"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?" - -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. - -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. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXI* - - *A CRY OF DISTRESS* - - -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. - -"Miss Dounay," John began in sincere tones, extending his hand -cordially, "I congratulate you heartily on the splendid success that you -have won." - -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. - -"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: - -"I have gained everything we once talked about, and yet I believe I am -the unhappiest woman in the world." - -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. - -"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?" - -"I should like to," responded the minister frankly, his desire to help -her growing rapidly; "but I have a funeral this afternoon." - -"Then to-night," the actress urged, "after your sermon is done?" - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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." - -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. - -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. - -"I will come, Miss Dounay," he assured her gravely. - -"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: - -"But please omit the supper. I am coming at your -call--eagerly--happily--but not even as an old friend; solely as a -minister!" - -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. - -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. - -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! - -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? - -John approached and knocked upon the door. - -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. - -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. - -"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?" - -"Well," he replied a trifle severely, "you must admit that this is not -sackcloth and ashes." - -"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. - -"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." - -"Not the old scene," replied the minister, with quiet emphasis, feeling -just a little as if he had been trapped. - -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. - -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. - -"Julie!" called Marien, and there was a not entirely suppressed note of -triumph in her tone. - -The little French maid appeared with suspicious promptness from behind -swinging portieres to receive the coat and to give the big man, whom she -had always liked, shy welcome upon her own account. - -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: - -"Sit there and wait. I have something to show you, something -beautiful--wonderful--overwhelming almost!" - -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 portieres, 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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"Wonderful!" he exclaimed, leaping up to meet her as she advanced. -"Splendid! Magnificent!" - -Each adjective was more emphatically uttered than the last. - -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. - -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. - -But she made no impulsive move. Instead, she breathed softly: "Doctor -Hampstead, will you touch that button, please?" - -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. - -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. - -"More and more beautiful," Hampstead murmured, passing a hand across his -brow. - -"Sit down!" Marien breathed softly, motioning toward the Roman chair. - -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? - -"I do not know diamonds very well," the minister confessed, sinking down -into the chair. - -"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. - -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. - -"And what is the amber stone?" he asked innocently. - -"Amber!" Marien laughed. "It is a canary diamond, the finest stone of -all. It alone cost four thousand dollars." - -"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?" - -"Twenty-two," the actress answered almost boastfully, again bending to -survey the blazing inverted arch of jewels. - -"Thousand?" The minister's inflection expressed his incredulousness. - -"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. - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -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: - -"John." - -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. - -"It did seem to change, I thought," the minister said casually, at the -same time slipping his hand gently from beneath the jewel. - -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. - -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. - -"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." - -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: - -"You misunderstood me horribly once--horribly!" - -With this much communicated, she stopped as abruptly as she had begun, -while a frightened look invaded her liquid eyes. - -"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." - -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. - -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: - -"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." - -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. - -"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?" - -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!" - -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. - -"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. - -"Pitiful," the minister groaned. "My God, it is tragic!" - -"Yes," she went on presently, in a calmer voice that was more resigned -and sadly reminiscent: "I purposed it." - -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. - -"You confess only to the purpose?" John demanded accusingly. - -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. - -"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. - -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. - -"You mean," he began doubtfully-- - -Marien took instant courage in his doubt; he was almost convinced. - -"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: "_I mean that I never paid the price!_" 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: - -"Marien, are you telling me the truth?" - -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: - -"It is the truth! It is the truth! Oh, God knows it is the truth!" - -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. - -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. - -"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." - -The actress ceased to speak and sat breathing quickly, as if from the -effects of an exhausting chase. - -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: - -"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: - -"God has preserved you, Marien. You owe Him everything." - -"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." - -"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?" - -"No. I have told you what I wanted to tell you." - -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. - -The minister stood gazing at her doubtfully. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXII* - - *PURSUIT BEGINS* - - -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. - -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. - -"I shall save three o'clock to-morrow for you," Miss Dounay proposed, as -if reading the minister's purpose in his eye. - -But John Hampstead was a man of many duties, whose time was not easy to -command. - -"At three," he objected, "I am to address a mother's meeting. - -"At four then," Marien suggested, with an engaging smile. - -"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. - -"At five!" persisted Marien, the smile giving way before a shadow of -impatience. - -John laughed. - -"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." - -"Oh," gasped Marien, with a note of apprehension. "And suppose he turns -his violence on you?" - -"Why, then I shall defend myself," John answered, good-humoredly, "but -without hurting Olaf." - -"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." - -"But why so much concern about unimportant people like that?" questioned -Marien, her eyes big with curiosity and wonder. - -"Any person in need is important to me," confessed John modestly. - -"But how can you spare the time from the regular work of the church?" - -"That is my regular work." - -Marien paused a moment as if baffled. - -"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." - -"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." - -Marien's eyes were shining with a new light. - -"That is practical religion," she declared. - -"Cut out the modifier," amended John. "That _is_ 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--" - -"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. - -"More because it is a delicate responsibility," the minister amended -once more. "Tact that comes with experience is essential, as well as -strength." - -"And do you do many things like that?" Marien asked, deeply impressed. - -"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." - -"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. - -"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." - -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. - -Manoeuvering her features into something like a pout, she asked -mockingly: - -"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?" - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -"Some errand of mercy," he mumbled with fervency. "Brother Hampstead is -the most helpful man in the world." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -But there were, nevertheless, some grains of sand in the bearings of -Rollo's spinning chariot wheels. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"Let me have seventeen hundred, Spider, for three days, and I'll give -you my note for two thousand," he whispered nervously. - -"What security?" asked the Spider, craft and money-lust swimming in his -small, greenish-yellow eye. - -"My signature's enough," said Rollie, bluffing weakly. - -"Nothin' doin'," quoth the Spider decisively. - -Cold sweat broke out on Rollie's brow faster than He could wipe it off. - -"I'll make it twenty-five hundred," the young man said hoarsely. - -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. - -"Make it three thousand, and I'll lay the money in your hand," said the -Spider coldly. - -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. - -"Spider, you are a thief!" he proclaimed truculently. - -"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. - -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. - -But the next day Spider Welsh's roll was the fatter by three thousand -dollars, and the trust account was short the same amount. - -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. - -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 -tete-a-tete 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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -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. - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXIII* - - *CAPRICIOUS WOMAN* - - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -Francois, 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. - -Hampstead was still patient. - -"I have been so earnest in my desire to help you," he said, by way of -broaching the subject again. - -"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!" - -"Miss Dounay!" exclaimed the minister sharply. - -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?" - -Hampstead gritted his teeth, but he could not have stopped her. - -"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?" - -Not unnaturally, the minister was angry. - -"No," he said sharply, "and you will never see it, for I shall not take -that single false step of which you speak." - -"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." - -It seemed to John that the woman was actually menacing him. - -"Francois!" he called sharply. - -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. - -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." - -To his surprise, Marien answered him with something like a threat! - -"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!" - -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. - -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. - -"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?" - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"Gentlemen," she proposed, "you are all in evening dress; but I,"--and -she shrugged her bewitching shoulders naively,--"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 portieres through -which she had gone that first night to don the diamonds for Hampstead. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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." - - - - - *CHAPTER XXIV.* - - *THE DAY OF ALL DAYS* - - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"DOUNAY DIAMONDS STOLEN" was its screaming message. - -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. - -"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?" - -"No! To me!" groaned the young man hoarsely, hurrying forward as the -minister stepped down to meet him. - -"Something awful! Can I see you absolutely alone?" - -"Why, certainly, Rollie," replied the minister with ready sympathy. -"Come this way." - -Hastily the minister led his caller around the side of the wide, -low-lying cottage to the outside entrance of his study. - -"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. - -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. - -"No eye and no ear can see or hear us now, save one," he said with -sympathetic gravity. "Sit down." - -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. - -"You saw the paper?" he began. - -The minister nodded. - -"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. - -"Oh, Rollie," he groaned, and then asked, as if not quite able to -believe his eyes: "You took them?" - -"I--I stole them," the excited man half-whispered. - -"Why?" questioned Hampstead, still wrestling with his astonishment. - -"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." - -"But you could not turn these into money. You must have been beside -yourself." - -"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." - -"The Red Lizard?" interrupted the minister; for he knew the man who bore -the suggestive title. - -"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!" - -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? - -"What am I going to do?" the shaken Rollie gasped hoarsely, his eyes -fixing themselves in helpless appeal upon the clergyman. - -"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." - -A sickly smile curled upon the young man's lip. - -"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." - -The young fellow again lifted a hand before his eyes, shuddering and -reeling as though he might faint. - -With a feeling almost of contempt, Hampstead gripped him by the shoulder -and shook him sternly. - -"Your situation calls for the exercise of some manhood--if you have it," -he said sharply. "Tell me. Why did you come here?" - -"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!" - -"It was on your mother's account?" - -"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!" - -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. - -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. - -"You have come to the wrong place," he said briefly. - -"You won't help me out?" - -"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." - -"Not even to save my mother?" whined the wilted man. - -"I should be doing your mother no kindness to confirm her son in crime." - -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. - -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. - -"You can help me if you will!" he broke out wretchedly, straining and -twisting his neck like a man battling with suffocation. - -"Yes," said the minister quietly, his eyes searching to the fellow's -very soul, "I can--if you will let me." - -"Let you?" and a hysterical smile framed itself on the young man's face. -"My God, I will do anything." - -"It's something you must _be_, 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 _way up_!" - -The cowering man shook his head hopelessly. He had not courage enough -even to survey a moral height. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -"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?" - -Burbeck listened rather dazed. "I never thought of the principle," he -faltered after a minute, "I thought of it as a job." - -"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?" - -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. - -"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." - -"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." - -"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." - -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. - -"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." - -"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." - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"When do you say they will be upon your books?" he asked abruptly. - -"Before twelve, sure; by eleven, probably," was Rollie's quick, nervous -answer. - -"And how much is your defalcation?" - -"Forty-two hundred," sighed Rollie. - -"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." - -"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. - -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. - -"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." - -Rollie listened as a condemned man upon a scaffold listens to the -reading of his reprieve. - -"How can I thank you?" he croaked finally, clutching at the minister's -hand. - -"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." - -Rollie clung to the strong hand uncertainly for a few seconds until he -himself felt stronger, when his face seemed to lighten somewhat. - -"You have a wonderful way with you, Doctor Hampstead," he exclaimed. -"You have put conscience into me this morning--and courage." - -"Both are important," smiled the minister. - -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: - -"For ready identification. There are sometimes several of these keys in -my possession at once." - -The minister nodded approvingly. "I suppose," he commented, "other -people make use of you as a messenger to their boxes." - -"Half a dozen of the women have that habit," the young man observed. - -"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?" - -Rollie nodded thoughtfully. - -"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. - -"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?" - -The clergyman shook his head solemnly. - -"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." - -Hampstead's tone was final. - -"You are right," admitted Burbeck, in tones of conviction; "you are -right." - -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. - -"There," he exclaimed, "you don't even have to touch them again. Go -straight to her hotel." - -"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." - -"Telephones are leaky instruments," objected Hampstead, with a shake of -his head. - -"Or send her a note," suggested Burbeck. - -"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." - -"Sealed?" questioned Rollie, not quite comprehending. - -"Yes, the secret is your own. Think of your confession as made to God!" - -"You mean that you would never tell on me, no matter what happened?" - -"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." - -This was an idea Rollie could not grasp readily. It was taking away a -prop upon which he had meant to lean. - -"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." - -"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." - -But Rollie was still groping. "And if I should, for instance, steal the -money you give me?" - -"You would know it, and I, and one other," replied the minister, raising -his eyes devoutly. - -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. - -"It is the highest appeal which could be made to the honor of another," -he breathed in tones approaching awe. - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXV* - - *HIS BRIGHT IDEA* - - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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? - -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? - -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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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: - -"You got the Wadham currency?" - -"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. - -"That is good," agreed the minister, his face beaming. "The right start, -my boy, exactly." - -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. - -"It is there," said the minister, a little gurgle of emotion in his own -throat. - -"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. - -Hampstead, happier, if possible, than Rollie, understood his emotion. - -"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. - -"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. - -The minister smiled understandingly, and Rollie stepped out of the -little gate and across to the teller's window. - -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. - -"Yes," said the president, talking into the 'phone. "We will send a man -over to represent us. Are you ready now?" - -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." - -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. - -"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?" - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -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 role 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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -Where was the minister now? Until Rollie could find him and get the -key, he could make no confession to Miss Dounay. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXVI* - - *UNEXPECTEDLY EASY* - - -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 -Cafe, 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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"Hello--Sam," he called. "This is Rollie. Has Doctor Hampstead been -there this morning?" - -"Yeh!" - -"There now?" - -"Nope." - -"Know where he went?" - -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." - -"Did you get that?" called Sam into the 'phone. "He's gone to San -Francisco." - -"Yes,--but what's that got to do with the Red Lizard?" - -"He came down to see the Red Lizard." - -"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?" - -"Yeh!" - -"What for?" - -Rollie was clinging to the telephone now like a drowning man to a rope's -end. - -"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." - -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-- - -But Sam had gone right on talking. - -"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." - -"All right, thanks." - -"So long, Rollie!" - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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! - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"I suppose," he ventured huskily, "you are worried to death about your -diamonds." - -The sentence drew one lightning flash from her eyes, and that was all. - -"To tell you the truth, I have hardly thought of them," she snapped. - -Rollie sat with open mouth, totally unable to comprehend, staring until -his stare annoyed her. - -"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. - -"But wouldn't you like to get your diamonds back?" he asked -perspiringly. - -"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. - -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: - -"I have come to tell you that you are going to get your diamonds back." - -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!" - -The young man obeyed desperately: "I am an ambassador for the--" - -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!" - -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. - -"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." - -"You? The banker?" - -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. - -"Yes, I--" - -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. - -"Yes, I stole them," he affirmed doggedly. "And I am going to bring -them back." - -"Going to?" she asked, again making the fine shade of her meaning clear -with the slightest expenditure of sound. - -"Yes, a little accident happened." - -"An accident!" The woman's eyes blazed, her cheeks were aflame, and her -whole attitude expressive of menace. "You didn't lose them?" - -"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--" - -Again Rollie felt himself mentally interrupted, although Miss Dounay had -not spoken. - -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. - -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: - -"Oh, I beg your pardon, Mr. Burbeck. Something you said started such an -interesting train of thought." - -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: - -"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?" - -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. - -"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. - -"And the minister has no idea that the diamonds are in his vault?" that -mercurial lady inquired, with a chuckle. - -"Not the least in the world," assured Rollie, anxious to relieve his -benefactor of any slightest odium of indiscretion. - -"And when did you say Doctor Hampstead was expected home from San -Francisco?" - -Miss Dounay had stopped laughing and had an intent look, as if desiring -to understand something very clearly. - -"Perhaps the last boat to-night--possibly not till to-morrow morning." - -"Then there is no way of getting the jewels until to-morrow morning?" - -"None at all," confessed Rollie. "But as a matter of fact, they are -perfectly safe there--safer than they are in your own apartment." - -"So I should say," Miss Dounay observed dryly, "unless I revise my guest -list." - -Rollie flushed. - -"That was coming to me," he confessed, frowning at himself. "That and -much more." - -His tone was serious and full of bitter self-reproach. Miss Dounay's -surprisingly indulgent attitude emboldened him to pursue the -disagreeable subject farther. - -"I have not told you," he went on, "that I came to ask you for mercy." - -"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. - -"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." - -Again Rollie was interrupted; but this time there was nothing intangible -about it. - -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!" - -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. - -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. - -As if to make this emphatically clear, she inquired: - -"And when is it that you go out with Mrs. Ellsworth Harrington upon her -launch party?" - -"With Mrs. Harrington's launch party?" Rollie asked, in a dazed voice, -his mind groping as at some elusive memory. - -"Yes," the actress replied crisply. "You told me yesterday you were -going out to-day with her party for a cruise on the Bay." - -"Yesterday!" confessed Rollie dreamily. "By Jove, so I did. But," and -as though it made all the difference in the world, "that was yesterday!" - -"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?" - -"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. - -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?" - -"I should say!" confessed Rollie, turning a wry face at the memory. - -"Suppose," suggested Miss Dounay in calculating tones, "that I went with -you upon her launch party this afternoon." - -"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. - -But Miss Dounay relieved him of his embarrassment by appearing not to -notice and broke in with a practical question: - -"What time does the launch leave the pier?" - -"At four. It is now one-thirty." - -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. - -"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 Francois will take us to the pier." - - - - - *CHAPTER XXVII* - - *THE FIRST ALARM* - - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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? - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -"I'll show them nerve!" he mused, with foolish but very human pride. - -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. - -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! - -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. - -"CLERIC FLIES ARREST," bawled this headline stridently. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"Oh, cheer up," he laughed, poking the physician with an elbow. "You -probably know worse people than diamond thieves." - -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. - -"Of course, Doctor Hampstead," he suggested, "every one is confident you -will be able to prove your innocence." - -The minister made an ejaculation that was short and sharp. - -The doctor looked at him with surprise, as if questioning whether he -heard aright. - -"Under the law, I thought a man was presumed to be innocent, and that -his accusers had to prove his guilt," went on Hampstead. - -The doctor flushed slightly, and while his eyes roved through the car -window, declared: - -"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." - -"That is your attitude?" inquired Hampstead coldly. - -"Oh, by no means," protested the physician. - -"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. - -"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. - -"Very much worried," replied the doctor, as gravely and as oracularly as -he would have pronounced upon another man's patient. "Very much -worried!" - -"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?" - -"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. - -"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! - -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 _The Sentinel_, 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. - -John Hampstead read this particular paragraph in _The Sentinel_ 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. - -But there was a far bigger story than that in the morning _Sentinel_. -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. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXVIII* - - *THE ARREST* - - -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?" - -"It's a darn piece of blackmail, that's what it is, and it's actionable, -too!" - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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." - -Rose was already in her brother's arms, yet his speech, instead of -reassuring her, made the tears flow. - -"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." - -"Why," replied John, "that's just what it all means. _Just like a -criminal!_" - -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. - -"They," she said solemnly, "are waiting in the study." - -"They?" inquired Hampstead. - -"There are four men in there," Rose replied. "They want," and her voice -threatened to break, "they want you!" - -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. - -"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. - -In his study, as Rose had forewarned him, the minister found four men: -Searle, Assistant District Attorney; Wyatt, Deputy Sheriff; and two city -detectives. - -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. - -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. - -Hampstead was able to master his feelings sufficiently to greet the -quartet urbanely, if not cordially. - -"A disagreeable duty, I assure you," conceded Searle. - -"A disagreeable experience," laughed Hampstead, but with no great -suggestion of levity. - -"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." - -The minister took the document and glanced it through, his eyes -hesitating for a moment at the name of the complaining witness. - -"Alice Higgins?" he asked, with an inquiring glance. - -"The true name of the complaining witness and accuser," replied Searle. - -"Oh, I see," assented John. - -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. - -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. - -"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." - -"That was very considerate of you," assented the minister, a huskiness -in his tone despite himself. - -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." - -The Deputy Sheriff coughed in an embarrassed way, but stood stolidly -before his prisoner. - -"I am sorry, Doctor Hampstead," explained Searle, "but we shall have to -search you. Benson's men here will do that." - -"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?" - -The speaker's tones witnessed a natural indignation and considerable -irritability. - -"I got to do my duty," replied Wyatt stubbornly, making a sign to the -two detectives, who immediately arose and advanced upon the minister. - -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. - -"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." - -"We appreciate your situation perfectly," said Assistant District -Attorney Searle smoothly. "As you say, we are all of us cogs." - -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. - -"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. - -"That is the key to my safe deposit box at the Amalgamated National," -replied Hampstead, naturally enough. - -"Then," said Wyatt bluntly, "we've got to search that box." - -The minister was instantly on his guard. - -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. - -"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." - -"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." - -Like a flash, Hampstead thought that he understood. - -"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!" - -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: - -"Perhaps you ought not to proceed further, Doctor Hampstead, without the -advice of a lawyer." - -The proposal touched the minister in his pride. - -"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." - -Searle, playing his cards deliberately, took advantage of the minister's -assumed acquaintance with legal lore to suggest with alacrity: - -"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." - -Again Hampstead's second thought assured him that he was powerless to -resist. - -"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." - -But Searle only smiled, and observed with urbanity unruffled. - -"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." - -"Naturally I shall insist upon that," said the minister. - -"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." - -"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." - -"Very good, Doctor," replied Searle in that oily voice which indicated -how completely to his satisfaction affairs were progressing. - -"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." - -Searle darted a look at Wyatt. - -"Very sorry, Doc, but I got to stay with you," volunteered the deputy, -"and hand you over to the judge." - -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. - -"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." - -"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." - -"As you please," exclaimed Hampstead, who was fast recovering his poise; -"quite as you please." - -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. - -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. - -In this general silence, the grating of wheels on the graveled walk -outside the study door sounded loudly. - -"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." - -"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." - -"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?" - -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." - -"But tell me, Wyatt, who gave you such orders?" queried the minister, -with no effort to conceal his irritation. - -"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. - -"And who gave such orders to him?" persisted Hampstead. - -"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. - -"Well, I do ask you," declared the minister curtly. - -"He got 'em from Miss Dounay." - -"And is that woman running the District Attorney's office?" questioned -the minister scornfully. - -"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." - -"Yes," said the minister, holding his head very straight, "I realize -that you do not mean to insult me." - -"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. - -"Mrs. Burbeck is in the study," announced the maid. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXIX* - - *THE ANGEL ADVISES* - - -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. - -"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. - -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. - -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." - -"Oh, yes," the Angel answered, "I am well." - -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. - -"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. - -"Yes," said the minister reassuringly, "we will not be disturbed by Mr. -Wyatt's presence. He is merely doing his duty." - -"You are--?" Mrs. Burbeck hesitated with an upward inflection, and the -disagreeable word unuttered. - -"Yes," replied the minister gravely, his inflection falling where hers -had risen. "I am." - -"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." - -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. - -"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." - -Tears came readily to the limpid pools of her eyes, and the delicately -chiseled lips trembled, though they bravely tried to smile. - -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. - -But for once Mrs. Burbeck's intuitions were not sure, and she -misconstrued the meaning of her pastor's silence. - -"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." - -"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." - -With rising feeling, the young minister snatched a breath and hurried -on. - -"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. - -"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." - -Mrs. Burbeck's expressive eyes were floating full with a look that -verged from sympathy toward pity. - -"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!" - -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. - -"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. - -"Why, Wyatt!" exclaimed the minister reprovingly, turning sharply on the -deputy. - -"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." - -Hampstead was disgusted. - -"Don't interrupt us again, please, Wyatt," he observed, combining -dignity and rebuke in his utterance. - -But Wyatt, influenced no doubt by the look almost of fright on Mrs. -Burbeck's face, was already in apologetic mood. - -"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." - -"Thank you very much, Wyatt," replied the minister in noncommittal -tones, but with a sigh of relief as the deputy withdrew from the room. - -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. - -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. - -"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!'" - -"But I am innocent," Hampstead protested, though weakly. - -"And so was He," Mrs. Burbeck replied simply. - -"But He was worthy to suffer. I am not," murmured Hampstead humbly. - -"Sometimes," suggested the sweet-voiced woman, "suffering makes us -worthy." - -"But," affirmed the minister, his fighting spirit coming back to him, "I -can prove my innocence!" - -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." - -"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." - -But Mrs. Burbeck had more important advice to give. - -"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." - -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." - -"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." - -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: - -"But how unjust to force a contract like that upon me." - -"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!" - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -"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." - -"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." - -"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." - -Mrs. Burbeck steadied him with a glance from a mind unimpressed. - -"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!" - -"_We got to go if we get there by nine!_" - -It was the smothered voice of Wyatt, calling through the door. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXX* - - *THE SCENE IN THE VAULT* - - -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. - -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. - -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." - -"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." - -Hampstead was speaking hoarsely, his voice raised and trembling with an -excitement and lack of nerve control he had never exhibited before in -public. - -The prosecutor's face pictured surprise and even gloating, but his eyes -expressed a purpose unshaken. - -"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." - -"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." - -"And I tell you I will not respect the order of the court," blazed the -minister. "You shall not examine the box!" - -Judge Mortimer was startled; the bondsmen, although surprised by the -minister's show of feeling, were sympathetic. - -"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." - -"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." - -But this remark of the practical Mr. Wilson had an instantly calming -effect upon the minister. - -"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." - -"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." - -"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." - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -"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." - -"And you have not found them!" - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -"This envelope bears the name and address of the Reverend John -Hampstead," he announced in formal tones. "I now open it in your -presence." - -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!" - -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. - -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. - -"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!" - -His cross had come! - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"I suppose," he said with melancholy interest, at the same time moving -round the table to the box, "that I may take it now." - -"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. - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -"But," and his utterance became incisive, "there is nothing to that -effect which can be said now." - -"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." - -"Not one word," declared the minister with quiet emphasis, "can be -spoken now!" - -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. - -"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." - -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: - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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: - -"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." - -Rose clasped her brother's hand in silent assurance; but Hampstead went -on with saddened voice to portray what was to be expected. - -"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." - -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. - -"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. - -"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!" - -"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. - -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. - -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: "_The -Sentinel_?--Yes--Yes--No--There is nothing to say--Absolutely!--I do." - -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 _The Press_. -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. - -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. - -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 _The Press_ and Hampstead's true friend. - -"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." - -Some sort of a protest gurgled from Hampstead's lips. - -"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?" - -"I am very sorry," replied Hampstead in a patient voice, "but you can -say nothing--absolutely nothing." - - - - - *CHAPTER XXXI* - - *A MISADVENTURE* - - -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 _Black -Swan_, which was so commodious and powerful that it just escaped being a -sea-going yacht. - -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 _Black Swan_ 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 _Black Swan_, although -for a very different reason. - -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. - -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 role 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. - -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. - -"Calmer water, James, while supper is being served!" Mrs. Harrington had -ordered with a peace-be-still air. - -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. - -"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. - -James knew this pouter-pigeon swelling well and its significance. Mrs. -Harrington _must_ now be obeyed. Calmer water had to be had, if it had -to be made. - -"Back of Yerba Buena, it is calmer," the lady concluded, with an -increase of acerbity. - -James lost no time in conveying this second command and a description of -its accompanying signal, to the captain. - -"'Behind the Goat,' she said," James concluded. - -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. - -"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." - -"She said it," replied James truculently; and stood by to see the helm -shift. - -"In she goes then, dod gast her!" muttered the captain. - -"So much calmer in here under the sheltering lee of Yerba Buena," -chirped Miss Gwendolyn Briggs, another quarter of an hour later. - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"We struck something!" he suggested brightly. - -"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!" - -"James!" murmured a voice almost entirely smothered by rage. - -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. - -"Oh!" she gasped. "Oh, my heart!" Wrath had given way to fright, and -the hue of wrath to pallor. - -In the meantime, the _Black Swan_ 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. - -The next half hour, to employ a marine phrase, was devoted to salvage of -one sort and another. One thing became speedily clear. The _Black -Swan_ 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. - -It was an unpleasant prospect. - -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 _Black -Swan_, 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. - -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. - -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 Francois. - -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 Francois. 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. - -"Francois," Miss Dounay exclaimed, prodding his elbow until his head -rolled sleepily into wakefulness, "I could kiss you!" - -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. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXXII* - - *THE COWARD AND HIS CONSCIENCE* - - -On the theory that his duty as an escort still survived, Rollie was -given a seat upon the limousine beside Francois; 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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -"I didn't know they made a man that would stand the gaff like that," he -confessed after a further reflective interval. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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! - -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? - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -The telephone had apprised his mother of his coming, and she had -remained up to meet him. - -"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. - -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. - -"Of course you have seen what that woman and the papers are doing to -Brother Hampstead," his mother observed sadly. - -"Yes," replied the young man, in a tone as dejected as hers. - -"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." - -"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." - -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. - -"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." - -"You take it too seriously, mother," suggested Rollie half-heartedly, -after a moment of silence. - -"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. - -"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." - -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. - -"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!" - -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. - -"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. - -"Tell me," he asked, "how is father taking it?" - -"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. - -"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." - -"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!" - -A wild look had come into the young man's face as he spoke. - -"You? In what position?" - -Mrs. Burbeck was surprised at the expression on her son's face. - -For a moment Rollie floundered wildly. - -"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?" - -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. - -"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!" - -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. - -"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." - -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." - -"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. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXXIII* - - *THE BATTLE OF THE HEADLINES* - - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"It is the manner of a thief hopelessly guilty," he confessed. - -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." - -"True--perfectly true. A good point that," conceded Hampstead to -himself. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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 _Evening Messenger_ 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. - -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 _Quo -Vadis_, 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. - -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 -_East Lynne_, 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. - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -The glittering achievement of vindication was next attempted by the -_Messenger's_ story. This admittedly was theory, but it was set forth -with confidence and particularity, as follows: - -"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. - -"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." - -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." - -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. - -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. - -Nor did the public mind the discrepancies greatly. The _Messenger's_ -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -This reflection left Hampstead with his lips pursed, his cheeks drawn, -sitting bolt and rigid like a frozen man. - -In this polar atmosphere the telephone tinkled. The minister answered -it with wooden movements and a wooden voice: - -"No, nothing to say--yet." - -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. - -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. - -"Rollie!" exclaimed Doctor Hampstead, leaping up. - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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." - -For a moment Rollie's eyes opened till a ring of white appeared about -the iris, and he shifted his position dizzily. - -"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!" - -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. - -"Even," the minister labored on, "even that hope of Her, of which I told -you the other day, has been torn from me." - -Rollie's face turned a more ghastly white. - -"That?" he murmured huskily. - -"That!" assented the minister, with a grave, downward bend of the head. - -"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." - -For a moment Hampstead was silent. - -"To be loyal, Rollie, to be true to the highest duty is worth -everything." - -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." - -"But you," protested the young man, his eyes again staring wildly. - -"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?" - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXXIV* - - *A WAY THAT WOMEN HAVE* - - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -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!" - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -Reconciled! Mrs. Mitchell knew perfectly well what reconciled meant, -but she did not know just what Bessie meant by dinging on that word. - -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. - -"But my child! The trip is all planned. The passages are paid for, -everything is ready," protested Mrs. Mitchell. - -"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." - -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: - -"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." - -"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?" - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -"Send me up the last week of San Francisco and Los Angeles papers," she -ordered. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -When Mrs. Mitchell heard her husband's voice in the next room, she -hurried out to fortify him. - -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. - -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. - -"The hell!" he ejaculated, and read eagerly down the column. - -"Well, I be damned!" was his next contribution to the silence. - -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. - -"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. - -"I always knew that boy's good-heartedness would get him into trouble -some day," the good woman averred after a moment. - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXXV* - - *ON PRELIMINARY EXAMINATION* - - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"The case of the People versus John Hampstead," announced the judge in -matter-of-fact tones. - -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. - -"Prisoner at the bar, stand up!" - -It was the monotonous, unfeeling voice of the clerk who said this, -himself arising. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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: - -"Is this your true name?" - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -The judge nodded comprehension and assent, and the defendant sat down. - -"Are the People ready?" inquired the Court. - -"We are," answered the crisp, crackly voice of Searle. - -"And the defense?" - -Hampstead, his arms folded passively, responded with a slight -affirmative bow. - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -"I am an actress by profession. My name is Alice Higgins; my place of -residence is New York City." - -"In your profession as an actress and to the public generally you are -known as Marien Dounay?" - -"Yes," replied the witness. - -"You are the complainant in this action?" - -"Yes." - -"I will ask you," began Searle, "if you have ever seen this necklace -before?" - -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. - -"They are my diamonds," she replied. - -"And what is their value?" - -"Twenty-two thousand dollars." - -"Lawful money of the United States?" - -"Yes." - -"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." - -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. - -Her story done, and to the attorney's complete satisfaction, Searle then -put the final formal questions: - -"This property was taken against your will and without your consent?" - -"Yes." - -"This all happened in the City of Oakland, County of Alameda and the -State of California?" - -"Yes." - -"That is all," concluded the prosecutor. - -"Cross-examine," directed the Court, turning to the defendant. - -"I have no desire to cross-examine," replied the minister quietly, but -again with that vibrant, far-carrying note in his utterance. - -"You are excused," said the judge to the actress. - -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. - -"Miss Julie Moncrief," announced the prosecutor. - -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. - -"What part of his body was toward the chiffonier?" asked the prosecutor. - -"His back and side." - -"Where was he looking?" - -"Out toward the room to which the guests had withdrawn." - -"As if watching for an opportunity of some sort?" suggested Searle. - -Hampstead started, and his eyes kindled, but he did not speak. The -Court, however, did. - -"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." - -"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." - -"That must be apparent to all, Mr. Searle," the judge palavered in -return. - -"Where was he looking?" queried Searle. - -Having been properly coached by the attorney's question and his reply to -the judge, the half frightened girl faltered: - -"He was looking out, _as if watching for an opportunity_." - -Color mounted to the cheeks of the judge. Searle looked properly -surprised. The defendant smiled cynically. - -"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. - -"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. - -"State what further you observed," directed the attorney. "Did you see -him move, or anything?" - -"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." - -"Strike out that the witness was surprised," commanded the Court -sternly, while Julie shivered at the sharpness of Judge Brennan's tone. - -"That is all," continued Searle. - -"Do you wish to cross-examine?" inquired the judge, directing his glance -to Hampstead. - -"I do not," replied the minister. - -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. - -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." - -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. - -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. - -Wilson, chafing at the position into which he was forced, was further -roused when Searle exclaimed suddenly: - -"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." - -Wilson glared and was silent. - -"Did he, or did he not?" persisted Searle sharply. - -"He did," snapped Wilson. - -"How did he want it, cash or checks?" - -"He wanted cash, but I do not see, Mr. Searle--" he began. - -"Excuse me, Mr. Wilson, but I think you do see," replied Searle. "Did -you give it to him?" - -"I did," replied Wilson, "and I would have given him more--" - -"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. - -"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. - -Searle, slightly huffed, again addressed the witness. - -"Did the defendant tell you what he wanted this large sum of money for?" - -"No. Furthermore--" began the witness. - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -Searle felt this to be the climax of his case. - -"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. - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -"Have you concluded?" asked the Court, reflecting the general surprise. - -"I have," replied the minister, with the same quiet voice in which he -had given his testimony. - -"Begin your cross-examination," instructed Judge Brennan. - -"Who is the man who brought these diamonds to you?" asked Searle, -hurling the question swiftly. - -"I cannot tell you," answered the minister gravely. - -"Why can you not tell?" The voice of Searle was harshly insistent. -"Don't you know who the man was?" - -"I do, most assuredly." - -"Why can you not tell it?" - -"Because the secret is not mine." - -"Not yours?" A sneer appeared on the lips of Searle. - -"It came to me by way of the Protestant confessional," explained the -minister. - -"The Protestant confessional! What do you mean by that?" barked the -prosecutor. - -"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." - -"And you will not give the name, even to protect yourself?" - -"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." - -Dramatically, though unconsciously, the witness lifted his right hand, -as though he renewed an oath to God. - -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. - -"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?" - -"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." - -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. - -"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?" - -This was another trail that Hampstead must not allow to be pursued. - -"You are at liberty to make whatever interpretation of my demeanor you -wish, Mr. Searle," he replied, a trifle tartly. - -"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?" - -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: - -"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." - -"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?" - -"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." - -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. - -"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." - -"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." - -Searle darted a hasty and apprehensive glance at the massed faces behind -the rail. - -"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. - -Judge Brennan looked at Hampstead. "Have you anything in rebuttal?" he -asked. - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -"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." - -The minister stopped for breath, and there was another of those strange, -composite sighs from beyond the rail. - -"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." - -The Court looked puzzled, but the ministerial defendant went on: - -"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!" - -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. - -"The verdict of your Honor is to _me_"--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. - -"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! - -"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. - -"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." - -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. - -But the Court was also complaisant, and the minister went on with -passionate earnestness to plead: - -"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!" - -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. - -"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!" - -"No! No!! No!!!" shrilled a hysterical voice that burst out suddenly -and ended as abruptly as it began. - -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!" - -"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!" - -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. - -But Judge Brennan was rapping for silence. - -"Compose yourself, madam!" he ordered sternly. - -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: - -"I resent, your Honor, with all my manhood, the epithet which this -defendant has gratuitously and insultingly flung at me." - -"Be seated, Mr. Searle," commanded the judge. "Doctor Hampstead's -position is very distressing. He will withdraw the objectionable -epithet." - -"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." - -Searle glared, but resumed his seat, giving vent to his temper in a -violent jerk of his chair as he dropped into it. - -"You may conclude your remarks," observed the Court to Hampstead. - -"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!" - -With this the defendant sat down. - -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. - -With a hitch to his vest and a forward thrust of the chin, Searle rose -to attack the plea of the defendant. - -"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. - -"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. - -"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. - -"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!" - -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. - -"Is my position so defenseless, I ask your Honor," Hampstead -interrupted, "that I am compelled to endure this?" - -The judge bestowed a chiding glance upon the attorney, but replied to -the minister: - -"A certain liberty is allowed the prosecutor." - -"But that liberty should not be a license to defame!" protested the -defendant. - -"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. - -"You may proceed," replied the Court, affecting not to notice the -disrespect with which it had been addressed. - -Searle continued, lapsing now into an argumentative strain. - -"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! - -"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. - -"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? - -"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. - -"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!" - -Again Searle turned and shook his long arm with insulting undulations in -the direction of the defendant, after which he continued: - -"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. - -"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! - -"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. - -"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. - -"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. - -"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. - -"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! - -"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!" - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -"You have the opportunity to reply," said the Court, addressing -Hampstead. - -"The spirit and the manner of this address is its own reply," answered -the defendant quickly, believing hopefully that it was. - -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. - -In sharp, machine-like tones, the verdict of Judge Brennan was -pronounced: - -"_Held to answer! Bail doubled! Adjourned!_" - -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. - -"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." - -"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!" - -"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. - -"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." - -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. - -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 _The Sentinel_ 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. - -"HELD TO ANSWER!" - -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. - -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. - -"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." - -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. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXXVI* - - *A PROMISE OF STRENGTH* - - -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. - -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?" - -"To the end?" - -Hampstead lifted his brows gravely. "You mean--conviction?" - -"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?" - -"Oh, I think it is too improbable it could go to that length," Hampstead -answered thoughtfully. - -"But it might! Is it worth it?" Mrs. Burbeck persisted. - -The calm sincerity of her manner poised the question like a lance aimed -at his heart. - -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. - -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. - -But now the lines were not so sharply drawn. He was renouncing his very -position and power to do his duty. - -"Is it?" - -Mrs. Burbeck half-looked and half-breathed this gentle reminder that she -had asked her pastor a question. - -"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!" - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -As if to check this Mrs. Burbeck asked quietly but with a significance -that was arresting: - -"Are you strong enough, do you think?" - -For a moment the minister was thoughtful and something like a shudder of -apprehension swept over him. - -"No," he replied humbly. "I begin to confess it to myself. The fear -that I will weaken begins to come to me at times." - -"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." - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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 _status quo_. 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. - -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. - -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 _The Sentinel_; 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. - -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. - -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. - -"Good evening, Hampstead," he said, with a falling inflection. - -This was the first time he had ever failed to say "Brother" Hampstead. - -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. - -"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. - -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. - -In his hand he held a copy of the last edition of _The Sentinel_, 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. - -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. - -"Be seated!" the minister said, a trifle sadly. - -"I can say what I've got to say better if I stand," replied the Elder -tersely. "Of course you'll resign!" - -A look of intense surprise crossed the face of Hampstead. - -"Resign what?" he asked, with raised brows. - -"Why, the pulpit of All People's!" - -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. - -"No," the young man replied within a minute, firmly but almost without -inflection, "I shall not resign." - -"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. - -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. - -"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." - -The upper lip of Burbeck curled till it showed a tooth and then -straightened out again. The minister continued to speak: - -"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." - -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: - -"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." - -A look of deepening pain crossed the features of the minister. - -"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." - -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. - -But Burbeck deliberately moved out of reach, replying sternly and -perhaps vindictively: - -"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--" - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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!" - - - - - *CHAPTER XXXVII* - - *THE TERMS OF SURRENDER* - - -"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. - -"That--that woman!" replied Rose again, unable to bring herself to -mention the name. - -"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. - -Rose was evidently surprised at her brother's instruction and for once -inclined to protest the supremacy of his will. - -"You are not going to see her again?" she argued. - -"I know of no one who should be in greater need of seeing me," John -rejoined, with sadness and reproach mingled in equal parts. - -"But alone? Think of the danger!" - -"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!" - -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!" - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"Well!" he said, quietly but emotionlessly. - -"Yes," she replied, in a low, affirmative voice, exactly as if in answer -to a question. - -"Why did you do it?" - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"Why did you do it?" the minister repeated, when his eyes had completed -his appraisal, and the woman was still eloquently silent. - -"Because I loved you," she answered briefly. - -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. - -"Love?" he asked cynically, rising from his seat. - -"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!" - -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: - -"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. - -"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. - -"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. - -"And something else--I was jealous of you!" - -Hampstead, who despite his incredulity had been listening attentively, -raised his eyebrows. - -"Jealous of the artist you might become. Your genius when it flowered -would overtop mine as your character overtops mine." - -The speaker paused, as if to mark the effect of her words. - -"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!" - -"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. - -"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!" - -The woman's face whitened, her eyes closed, and she reeled dizzily under -the spell of a memory that swept her into transports. - -"But," replied the minister quietly, "you killed our beautiful child." - -"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!" - -"At any rate, it is dead," replied the man, his voice as sadly -sympathetic as it was coolly decisive. - -"But I will make it live again," the woman exclaimed desperately. "I -love you, John! Oh, God, how I love you!" - -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. - -But the minister was still unresponsive. - -"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. - -"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. - -"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. - -"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." - -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. - -"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. - -"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." - -A shade had crossed the brow of Hampstead. - -"You think that?" he asked defiantly. - -"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!" - -"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." - -Marien's eyes flashed. Impatient and regardless of interruption, she -continued as though Hampstead had not spoken. - -"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." - -"Miss Dounay!" - -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. - -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. - -"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." - -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: - -"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?" - -She paused, standing with head upon one side, and the old, alluring, -coaxing glances stealing up from beneath the coquettish droop of her -lids. - -"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." - -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. - -"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." - -Her utterance was indescribably pathetic--indescribably appealing. - -"I am not to blame that I love you. You are to blame. No, the God that -constituted us is to blame." - -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. - -"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." - -Hampstead, though his consideration was growing for the woman, could not -resist a shaft of irony. - -"That was a sacrifice you took the liberty of making for me," he -suggested. - -"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. - -Yet the minister did not take her. - -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. - -With eyes mournfully searching the depths of the face before her, she -began her last appeal. - -"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!" - -She had raised her face now and was searching his eyes again. - -"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. - -Hampstead, looking levelly into her face, saw that the woman spoke the -truth, that she was absolutely sincere. - -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. - -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. - -"I have my answer--John!" she whispered hoarsely, after an interval. "I -have my answer!" - -"Yes, Marien," he replied, sorrowfully but decisively, "you have your -answer." - -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. - -For a considerable time she sat with her face in her hands, silent but -for an occasional dry, eruptive sob. - -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. - -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. - -"How I have made you suffer!" Marien exclaimed abruptly, at the same -time opening her eyes. - -"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." - -"Can you ever, ever forgive me?" she asked, lifting her hand -appealingly. - -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. - -"Yes," he said, gravely and calculatingly, "I do forgive you. The ruin -has been almost complete; but I am strong enough to build again!" - -"Oh," she exclaimed eagerly, starting up, "do you think you can?" - -"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." - -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: - -"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." - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -"Each of us in life I fear must be held to answer for his own -obtuseness," he suggested. - -"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." - -"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." - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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." - -Hampstead's mouth fell open, and a single step carried him half way -across the room. - -"But you must not tell Searle nor any one else the truth!" he affirmed -vehemently. - -It was Marian's turn to be surprised. - -"You mean that I am not to undo the wrong that I have done you?"' she -asked in amazement. - -"Not that way," he answered, with deliberate shakings of the head. - -"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!" - -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. - -"But you forget young Burbeck," he exclaimed. "Your exposure would mean -his exposure." - -"Well?" - -Marien's eyes and tone both expressed her meaning, though she added -incisively: "He is no reason why you should linger under this cloud." - -Hampstead gazed at the woman doubtfully, speculating as to what argument -would make the strongest appeal to her. - -"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." - -But this note proved the wrong one. Marien instantly took higher -ground. - -"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." - -Hampstead knew better than the speaker how true this was. - -"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!" - -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. - -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. - -"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?" - -Hampstead nodded. "That is my hope," he said solemnly. - -"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!" - -"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." - -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. - -"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!" - -Hampstead made a deprecating, repressive gesture. - -"Let me finish," she protested. "I am even less humiliated. The thing -required to charm you was a thing I did not possess!" - -"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." - -"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." - -"It was necessary," the minister replied quietly, "if we were really to -understand each other." - -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. - -"You--you are to marry?" she faltered weakly. - -"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!" - -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: - -"She is very--very beautiful--this--this woman whom you love?" - -The question was put very softly, meditatively almost. - -"To me, yes," replied the minister with emphasis. "I think you would -say so too." - -"You were engaged?" - -"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." - -"But you will write to her? You will see her? You will explain?" -Marien questioned in self-forgetful eagerness. - -"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." - -"But I will go to her myself!" Marien exclaimed impetuously. "I will -tell her the truth." - -"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." - -"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!" - -"And so, you see,"--John did not finish the sentence but had recourse to -a helpless smile and a pathetic shrug of the shoulders. - -Marien lowered her veil. The interview was running on and on. It must -come to an end. - -"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!" - -John smiled at the vehemence with which she spoke. - -"But in the meantime--silence!" he adjured impressively. - -"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." - -"But in the meantime, silence!" reiterated John obstinately. - -"And in the meantime," she consented more resignedly, "silence!" - -"Good night, Marien," said the minister, putting out his hand. - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -And to-morrow was Sunday! - - - - - *CHAPTER XXXVIII* - - *SUNDAY IN ALL PEOPLE'S* - - -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. - -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 role -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. - -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. - -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: - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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: - -"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." - -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. - -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!" - -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. - -Instead, he saw himself cast out. The verdict of the church on Monday -night would also be "Held to Answer." - -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. - -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: - - - AN ADDRESS TO THE PEOPLE - -"They tell me that I have stood for the last time in the pulpit of _All -People's_; 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. - -"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.' - -"But for saying this, I am cast out. - -"Men observe to me: 'What a pity!' I say to you: 'No pity at all!' - -"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? - -"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 _practice_. By that habit I have -gained what I have gained--_and lost what I have lost_. 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. - -"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. - -"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. - -"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: - -"'_He believed something hard enough to live for it._' - -"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. - -"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. - -"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. - -"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. - -"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. - -"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. - -"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. - -"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. - -"Friends--and enemies alike!--this final word. - -"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. - -"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. - -"Eternal Loyalty is the Price of true Success. - -"To this conviction I subscribe my name, myself and everything that -still remains to me. - -"JOHN HAMPSTEAD, - "Pastor of All People's Church." - - -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. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXXIX* - - *THE CUP TOO FULL* - - -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. - -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." - -In John's mail that afternoon there came from Father Ansley, an -influential priest of the Roman Catholic communion, a letter to similar -effect. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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!" - -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! - -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. - -"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!" - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"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." - -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!" - -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. - -"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!" - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -But there are worse things than pain. John was appalled to realize that -he had risen a quaking coward. - -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! - -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." - -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. - -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: - -"Bessie! Bessie! Is it you?" - -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!" - -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!" - -Bessie, the first surge of her emotions over, stood looking up into -John's storm-stressed face, with glistening, happy eyes. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"But, Bessie," he protested. "But, Bessie?" - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -Taking Bessie by the hand, he led her to this tiny haven. - -"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." - -"But now it's over," he breathed contentedly, swaying her body gently -with his own. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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? - -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: - -"That must be the bravest, hardest thing you have done, John dear; to -stop just there, when telling me." - -"It was," he answered softly. - -"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. - -"But there is one thing I can tell you," he continued, "which no one -else knows nor can know now." - -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: - -"But she did it so wantonly, so irresponsibly; what reparation does she -propose?" - -"To immediately make a public confession that her charge against me was -utterly false," replied John, strangely moved to speak defensively for -Marien. - -"She will do that?" exclaimed Bessie, her face alive with excitement and -intense relief. - -"She would have done it," answered John, "but I forbade her." - -"Forbade her? Oh, John!" The soft eyes looked amazement and reproach. - -"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." - -"And is the saving of a thief worth more to you than your church--your -good name--your--your everything?" - -"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." - -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. - -"Oh, John! How brave! How strong! How right you are!" she exclaimed, -with a note of adoration in her voice. - -A pang of self-reproach shot through the big man. - -"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." - -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. - -"But now," she affirmed buoyantly, "you are strong, you are certain -again." - -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? - -"Why, John," she murmured, wonder mingling with mild reproach, as she -saw him hesitate. - -"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. - -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: _The love of a woman may make a man surpassingly stronger; it may -also make him immeasurably weaker_. 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? - -Bessie stood up suddenly. Her face was still white, but her square -little chin with its softly rounded corners was firmly set. - -"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." - -A smile of heavenly happiness broke like a sunset on the face of -Hampstead. - -"Thank God!" he murmured reverently; "thank God!" - -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!" - -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: - -"John! Ask me something, please?" - -"Ask you something," her lover murmured, with a look of dutiful -affection, "why, there is nothing more that I can ask." He sighed -contentedly. - -"But put it into words. Something to which I can answer Yes," she said, -a happy blush stealing across her cheeks. - -The big man gazed at her with a puzzled expression. - -"So--so that our engagement can be announced in the papers to-morrow -morning." - -John asked her, grimacing delight in his sudden comprehension, and took -her answer in a kiss. But immediately after he became serious. - -"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!" - -But Bessie's own uncompromising spirit flashed. - -"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!" - -Bessie had rushed across the room and flung open the door leading -downward. - -"Father," she cried. "Father! We are coming." - -"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." - -Nevertheless, he greeted his former employee with cordial and sincere -affection, while Bessie, radiantly happy but a little confused, asked: - -"What must have you been thinking all this time?" - -"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. - -"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." - -"Oh, I did that after the first hour and a half," exclaimed the railroad -man, laughing heartily. - -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. - -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. - -"She was right!" The heavy jaws of Mitchell snapped decisively. "The -whole thing is a community brain storm. It will pass." - -"The criminal charge," began John, feeling relieved and yet looking -serious. - -"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." - -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. - -"Come, Bessie," he called, "we must be getting back to the hotel." - -"You will stay for dinner, Mr. Mitchell?" suggested John. - -"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!" - -"But," demurred Bessie, "I'm not coming. I am going to the church -to-night to sit beside John." - - - - - *CHAPTER XL* - - *THE ELDER IN THE CHAIR* - - -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. - -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. - -Hampstead entered the church at precisely eight o'clock. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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!" - -Who was she? No one knew. Everybody asked; but no one answered. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"Rollie should not be up there," the Elder instructed, turning to an -usher. "Go and tell him to come down." - -"He says he is with a lady who is not a member," reported the usher on -returning. - -"Huh?" ejaculated Burbeck, turning a surprised gaze upon the figure of a -woman heavily veiled who sat beside his son. - -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? - -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. - -"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. - -"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. - -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. - -"Brother Anderson will lead in prayer," announced the Elder in unctuous -tones. "Let us stand, please!" - -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. - -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. - -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. - -Yet it was in keeping with the tenseness of the situation that as the -emotions of the vehement apostle of the _status quo_ 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. - -"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." - -But instead of looking at the clerk, the chairman looked at Elder -Brooks. - -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: - - -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 - -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; - -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. - - -"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?" - -"I move its adoption," quavered Elder Brooks. - -"I second the motion," Brother Anderson suggested faintly. - -"Are you ready for the question?" hinted the ruling Elder. - -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." - -"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." - -Elder Burbeck swept a suggestive eye over his carefully organized -majority, and this time his hint was taken. Calls of "question" arose. - -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. - -"I understand that the chair will not attempt to railroad this -resolution," he ventured with mild sarcasm. - -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." - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -The chairman answered curtly: - -"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." - -The face of Hampstead whitened, and his muscles strained in his body. - -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. - -"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." - -The face of Hampstead whitened a little more. - -"But," persisted Brother Hinton; "let our pastor make his answer to the -charges, that we may determine for ourselves what is the issue." - -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: - -"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. - -"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." - -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. - -But the minister was continuing: - -"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. - -"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. - -"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. - -"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? - -"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. - -"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." - -"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." - -"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? - -"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. - -"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. - -"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." - -Hampstead sat down. He had spoken with far more feeling than he had -intended, but he had exhibited much less than he experienced. - -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. - -But the tall man with the lofty brow was on his feet again. - -"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." - -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. - -"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. - -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. - -"The clerk will count." - -There was an awkward silence. - -"One hundred and sixty-three," the colorless man announced presently. - -"All opposed, same sign." Burbeck's adherents arose _en masse_ at the -motion of the Elder's arm, which was as involuntary as it was -injudicial. - -The clerk did not count. It was unnecessary. "The motion is lost," he -said to the presiding officer. - -"The resolution is lost," announced Elder Burbeck loudly, in tones that -quickened with eagerness. "The question now recurs upon the original -resolution." - -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! - -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. - -"Are you ready for the question?" he inquired, with forced deliberation, -enjoying the suspense before its inevitable outcome of satisfied -justice. - -"Question! Question!" came the insistent calls. - -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. - -"All in favor of the resolution severing the pastoral relation between -All People's Church and John Hampstead will signify by standing." - -The Elder rolled the words out sonorously. In his mind they stood for -the thunder of divine judgment! - -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. - -"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. - -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. - -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. - -"The resolution is carried," said the clerk to the Elder. - -"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. - -"Father!" the boy whispered hoarsely; "don't announce that vote! Don't -announce it!" - -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. - -"Don't announce it? What do you mean?" ejaculated the father in an -irritated and widely audible whisper. - -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. - -"Because," the young man faltered, his face white, his eyes wild and -staring, "because it's wrong!" - -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. - -"Don't, father!" pleaded the young man, advancing down the aisle, -"Don't! I've got something I must say!" - -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." - -[Illustration: "That man is innocent."] - -The words had a triumphant ring in them that echoed through the -auditorium. - -"Innocent?" - -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." - -"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." - -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. - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -The lips were moving now again; but this time as if in the formation of -words. Rollie bent low, until his ear was close. - -"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: - -"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." - -Sufficient strength had returned for one of her hands to exert a -pressure on the hand that held it. - -"Yes, mother," Rollie breathed fervently into her ear. - -"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." - -The last tone flowed out upon the current of a long, wavering sigh, -which seemed to take the final breath from her body. - -"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. - -"Thank God!" murmured the voice of Hampstead hoarsely. "She is back. -She will stay." - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -When the singing stopped, and the audience sat somewhat composed and -considering what should happen next, the minister remained master of the -situation. - -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. - -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. - -"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. - -"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. - -"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. - -"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." - -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. - -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. - -Hampstead's gaze watched the receding figure, and a poignant regret for -her smote in upon him in the midst of all his joy. - -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. - -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: - -"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. - -"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. - -"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." - -"But," faltered Elder Brooks, starting up, his voice trembling, "that -was our great mistake, our great sin. You are to be our pastor again!" - -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. - -"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." - -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: - -"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." - -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. - -"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. - -"Hiram!" she breathed softly, coaxingly, "Hiram!" - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -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. - -"To-night one ministry has ended," John said presently; "to-morrow -another shall begin." - -"And it will be a better ministry," breathed Bessie softly, "because -there are two of us." - -"_And they twain shall become one flesh!_" - - - - - THE END - - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HELD TO ANSWER *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44633 - -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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