THE CONQUEST OF CANAAN

BY

BOOTH TARKINGTON

 To L. F. T. 

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

 I. ENTER CHORUS II. A RESCUE III. OLD HOPES IV. THE DISASTER V. BEAVER BEACH VI. "YE'LL TAK' THE HIGH ROAD AND I'LL TAK' THE LOW ROAD" VII. GIVE A DOG A BAD NAME VIII. A BAD PENNY TURNS UP IX. OUTER DARKNESS X. THE TRYST XI. WHEN HALF-GODS GO XII. TO REMAIN ON THE FIELD OF BATTLE IS NOT ALWAYS A VICTORY XIII. THE WATCHER AND THE WARDEN XIV. WHITE ROSES IN A LAW-OFFICE XV. HAPPY FEAR GIVES HIMSELF UP XVI. THE TWO CANAANS XVII. MR. SHEEHAN'S HINTS XVIII. IN THE HEAT OF THE DAY XIX. ESKEW ARP XX. THREE ARE ENLISTED XXI. NORBERT WAITS FOR JOE XXII. MR. SHEEHAN SPEAKS XXIII. JOE WALKS ACROSS THE COURT-HOUSE YARD XXIV. MARTIN PIKE KEEPS AN ENGAGEMENT XXV. THE JURY COMES IN XXVI. "ANCIENT OF DAYS"

THE CONQUEST OF CANAAN

I

ENTER CHORUS

A dry snow had fallen steadily throughout the still night, so that whena cold, upper wind cleared the sky gloriously in the morning theincongruous Indiana town shone in a white harmony--roof, ledge, andearth as evenly covered as by moonlight. There was no thaw; only wherethe line of factories followed the big bend of the frozen river, theirdistant chimneys like exclamation points on a blank page, was there afirst threat against the supreme whiteness. The wind passed quicklyand on high; the shouting of the school-children had ceased at nineo'clock with pitiful suddenness; no sleigh-bells laughed out on theair; and the muffling of the thoroughfares wrought an unaccustomedpeace like that of Sunday. This was the phenomenon which afforded theopening of the morning debate of the sages in the wide windows of the"National House. "

Only such unfortunates as have so far failed to visit Canaan do notknow that the "National House" is on the Main Street side of theCourt-house Square, and has the advantage of being within two minutes'walk of the railroad station, which is in plain sight of thewindows--an inestimable benefit to the conversation of the aged men whooccupied these windows on this white morning, even as they were wont insummer to hold against all comers the cane-seated chairs on thepavement outside. Thence, as trains came and went, they commanded thecity gates, and, seeking motives and adding to the stock of history, narrowly observed and examined into all who entered or departed. Theirhabit was not singular. He who would foolishly tax the sages of Canaanwith a bucolic light-mindedness must first walk in Piccadilly in earlyJune, stroll down the Corso in Rome before Ash Wednesday, or regardthose windows of Fifth Avenue whose curtains are withdrawn of a winterSunday; for in each of these great streets, wherever the windows, notof trade, are widest, his eyes must behold wise men, like to those ofCanaan, executing always their same purpose. 

The difference is in favor of Canaan; the "National House" was theclub, but the perusal of traveller or passer by was here only the spumeblown before a stately ship of thought; and you might hear the sagescomparing the Koran with the speeches of Robert J. Ingersoll. 

In the days of board sidewalks, "mail-time" had meant a precise momentfor Canaan, and even now, many years after the first postman, itremained somewhat definite to the aged men; for, out of deference to apleasant, olden custom, and perhaps partly for an excuse to "get downto the hotel" (which was not altogether in favor with the elderlyladies), most of them retained their antique boxes in the post-office, happily in the next building. 

In this connection it may be written that a subscription clerk in theoffice of the Chicago Daily Standard, having noted a single subscriberfrom Canaan, was, a fortnight later, pleased to receive, by one mail, nine subscriptions from that promising town. If one brought nineothers in a fortnight, thought he, what would nine bring in a month?Amazingly, they brought nothing, and the rest was silence. Here was amatter of intricate diplomacy never to come within that youth his ken. The morning voyage to the post-office, long mocked as a fable andscreen by the families of the sages, had grown so difficult toaccomplish for one of them, Colonel Flitcroft (Colonel in the war withMexico), that he had been put to it, indeed, to foot the firing-lineagainst his wife (a lady of celebrated determination and hale-voiced atseventy), and to defend the rental of a box which had sheltered butthree missives in four years. Desperation is often inspiration; theColonel brilliantly subscribed for the Standard, forgetting to give hishouse address, and it took the others just thirteen days to wring hissecret from him. Then the Standard served for all. 

Mail-time had come to mean that bright hour when they all got theirfeet on the brass rod which protected the sills of the two big windows, with the steam-radiators sizzling like kettles against the side wall. Mr. Jonas Tabor, who had sold his hardware business magnificently (notmagnificently for his nephew, the purchaser) some ten years before, wasusually, in spite of the fact that he remained a bachelor atseventy-nine, the last to settle down with the others, though often thefirst to reach the hotel, which he always entered by a side door, because he did not believe in the treating system. And it was Mr. EskewArp, only seventy-five, but already a thoroughly capable cynic, who, almost invariably "opened the argument, " and it was he who discoveredthe sinister intention behind the weather of this particular morning. Mr. Arp had not begun life so sourly: as a youth he had been proud ofhis given name, which had come to him through his mother's family, whohad made it honorable, but many years of explanations that Eskew didnot indicate his initials had lowered his opinion of the intelligenceand morality of the race. 

The malevolence of his voice and manner this morning, therefore, whenhe shook his finger at the town beyond the windows, and exclaimed, witha bitter laugh, "Look at it!" was no surprise to his companions. "Jestlook at it! I tell you the devil is mighty smart. Ha, ha! Mightysmart!"

Through custom it was the duty of Squire Buckalew (Justice of the Peacein '59) to be the first to take up Mr. Arp. The others looked to himfor it. Therefore, he asked, sharply:

"What's the devil got to do with snow?"

"Everything to do with it, sir, " Mr. Arp retorted. "It's plain as dayto anybody with eyes and sense. "

"Then I wish you'd p'int it out, " said Buckalew, "if you've got either. "

"By the Almighty, Squire"--Mr. Arp turned in his chair with suddenheat--"if I'd lived as long as you--"

"You have, " interrupted the other, stung. "Twelve years ago!"

"If I'd lived as long as you, " Mr. Arp repeated, unwincingly, in alouder voice, "and had follered Satan's trail as long as you have, andyet couldn't recognize it when I see it, I'd git converted and voteProhibitionist. "

"_I_ don't see it, " interjected Uncle Joe Davey, in his querulousvoice. (He was the patriarch of them all. ) "_I_ can't find nocloven-hoof-prints in the snow. "

"All over it, sir!" cried the cynic. "All over it! Old Satan lovestricks like this. Here's a town that's jest one squirmin' mass of liesand envy and vice and wickedness and corruption--"

"Hold on!" exclaimed Colonel Flitcroft. "That's a slander upon ourhearths and our government. Why, when I was in the Council--"

"It wasn't a bit worse then, " Mr. Arp returned, unreasonably. "Jestyou look how the devil fools us. He drops down this here virgin mantleon Canaan and makes it look as good as you pretend you think it is: asgood as the Sunday-school room of a country church--though THAT"--hewent off on a tangent, venomously--"is generally only another whitedsepulchre, and the superintendent's mighty apt to have a bottle ofwhiskey hid behind the organ, and--"

"Look here, Eskew, " said Jonas Tabor, "that's got nothin' to do with--"

"Why ain't it? Answer me!" cried Mr. Arp, continuing, without pause:"Why ain't it? Can't you wait till I git through? You listen to me, and when I'm ready I'll listen to--"

"See here, " began the Colonel, making himself heard over three others, "I want to ask you--"

"No, sir!" Mr. Arp pounded the floor irascibly with his hickory stick. "Don't you ask me anything! How can you tell that I'm not going toanswer your question without your asking it, till I've got through?You listen first. I say, here's a town of nearly thirty thousandinhabitants, every last one of 'em--men, women, and children--selfishand cowardly and sinful, if you could see their innermost natures; atown of the ugliest and worst built houses in the world, and governedby a lot of saloon-keepers--though I hope it 'll never git down towhere the ministers can run it. And the devil comes along, and in onenight--why, all you got to do is LOOK at it! You'd think we needn'tever trouble to make it better. That's what the devil wants us todo--wants us to rest easy about it, and paints it up to look like aheaven of peace and purity and sanctified spirits. Snowfall like thiswould of made Lot turn the angel out-of-doors and say that the old homewas good enough for him. Gomorrah would of looked like a Puritanvillage--though I'll bet my last dollar that there was a lot, and aWHOLE lot, that's never been told about Puritan villages. A lot that--"

"WHAT never was?" interrupted Mr. Peter Bradbury, whose granddaughterhad lately announced her discovery that the Bradburys were descendedfrom Miles Standish. "What wasn't told about Puritan villages?"

"Can't you wait?" Mr. Arp's accents were those of pain. "Haven't I gotANY right to present my side of the case? Ain't we restrained enoughto allow of free speech here? How can we ever git anywhere in anargument like this, unless we let one man talk at a time? How--"

"Go on with your statement, " said Uncle Joe Davey, impatiently. 

Mr. Arp's grievance was increased. "Now listen to YOU! How many moreinterruptions are comin'? I'll listen to the other side, but I've gotto state mine first, haven't I? If I don't make my point clear, what'sthe use of the argument? Argumentation is only the comparison of twosides of a question, and you have to see what the first side IS beforeyou can compare it with the other one, don't you? Are you all agreedto that?"

"Yes, yes, " said the Colonel. "Go ahead. We won't interrupt untilyou're through. "

"Very well, " resumed Mr. Arp, with a fleeting expression ofsatisfaction, "as I said before, I wish to--as I said--" He paused, insome confusion. "As I said, argumentation is--that is, I say--" Hestopped again, utterly at sea, having talked himself so far out of hiscourse that he was unable to recall either his sailing port or hisdestination. Finally he said, feebly, to save the confession, "Well, go on with your side of it. "

This generosity was for a moment disconcerting; however, the quietestof the party took up the opposition--Roger Tabor, a very thin, old manwith a clean-shaven face, almost as white as his hair, and melancholy, gentle, gray eyes, very unlike those of his brother Jonas, which weredark and sharp and button-bright. (It was to Roger's son that Jonashad so magnificently sold the hardware business. ) Roger was known inCanaan as "the artist"; there had never been another of his professionin the place, and the town knew not the word "painter, " except inapplication to the useful artisan who is subject to lead-poisoning. There was no indication of his profession in the attire of Mr. Tabor, unless the too apparent age of his black felt hat and a neat patch atthe elbow of his shiny, old brown overcoat might have been taken assymbols of the sacrifice to his muse which his life had been. He wasnot a constant attendant of the conclave, and when he came it wasusually to listen; indeed, he spoke so seldom that at the sound of hisvoice they all turned to him with some surprise. 

"I suppose, " he began, "that Eskew means the devil is behind allbeautiful things. "

"Ugly ones, too, " said Mr. Arp, with a start of recollection. "And Iwish to state--"

"Not now!" Colonel Flitcroft turned upon him violently. "You'vealready stated it. "

"Then, if he is behind the ugly things, too, " said Roger, "we must takehim either way, so let us be glad of the beauty for its own sake. Eskew says this is a wicked town. It may be--I don't know. He saysit's badly built; perhaps it is; but it doesn't seem to me that it'sugly in itself. I don't know what its real self is, because it wearsso many aspects. God keeps painting it all the time, and never showsme twice the same picture; not even two snowfalls are just alike, northe days that follow them; no more than two misty sunsets arealike--for the color and even the form of the town you call ugly are amatter of the season of the year and of the time of day and of thelight and air. The ugly town is like an endless gallery which you canwalk through, from year-end to year-end, never seeing the same canvastwice, no matter how much you may want to--and there's the pathos ofit. Isn't it the same with people with the characters of all of us, just as it is with our faces? No face remains the same for twosuccessive days--"

"It don't?" Colonel Flitcroft interrupted, with an explosive and ruefulincredulity. "Well, I'd like to--" Second thoughts came to him almostimmediately, and, as much out of gallantry as through discretion, fearing that he might be taken as thinking of one at home, he relapsedinto silence. 

Not so with the others. It was as if a firecracker had been droppedinto a sleeping poultry-yard. Least of all could Mr. Arp containhimself. At the top of his voice, necessarily, he agreed with Rogerthat faces changed, not only from day to day, and not only because oflight and air and such things, but from hour to hour, and from minuteto minute, through the hideous stimulus of hypocrisy. 

The "argument" grew heated; half a dozen tidy quarrels arose; all thesages went at it fiercely, except Roger Tabor, who stole quietly away. The aged men were enjoying themselves thoroughly, especially those whoquarrelled. Naturally, the frail bark of the topic which had beenlaunched was whirled about by too many side-currents to remain long insight, and soon became derelict, while the intellectual dolphins doveand tumbled in the depths. At the end of twenty minutes Mr. Arpemerged upon the surface, and in his mouth was this:

"Tell me, why ain't the Church--why ain't the Church and the rest ofthe believers in a future life lookin' for immortality at the other endof life, too? If we're immortal, we always have been; then why don'tthey ever speculate on what we were before we were born? It's becausethey're too blame selfish--don't care a flapdoodle about what WAS, allthey want is to go on livin' forever. "

Mr. Arp's voice had risen to an acrid triumphancy, when it suddenlyfaltered, relapsed to a murmur, and then to a stricken silence, as atall, fat man of overpowering aspect threw open the outer door near byand crossed the lobby to the clerk's desk. An awe fell upon the sageswith this advent. They were hushed, and after a movement in theirchairs, with a strange effect of huddling, sat disconcerted andattentive, like school-boys at the entrance of the master. 

The personage had a big, fat, pink face and a heavily undershot jaw, what whitish beard he wore following his double chin somewhat after themanner displayed in the portraits of Henry the Eighth. His eyes, verybright under puffed upper lids, were intolerant and insultinglypenetrating despite their small size. Their irritability held a kindof hotness, and yet the personage exuded frost, not of the weather, allabout him. You could not imagine man or angel daring to greet thisbeing genially--sooner throw a kiss to Mount Pilatus!

"Mr. Brown, " he said, with ponderous hostility, in a bull bass, to theclerk--the kind of voice which would have made an express train leavethe track and go round the other way--"do you hear me?"

"Oh yes, Judge, " the clerk replied, swiftly, in tones as unlike thosewhich he used for strange transients as a collector's voice in hisladylove's ear is unlike that which he propels at delinquents. 

"Do you see that snow?" asked the personage, threateningly. 

"Yes, Judge. " Mr. Brown essayed a placating smile. "Yes, indeed, Judge Pike. "

"Has your employer, the manager of this hotel, seen that snow?" pursuedthe personage, with a gesture of unspeakable solemn menace. 

"Yes, sir. I think so. Yes, sir. "

"Do you think he fully understands that I am the proprietor of thisbuilding?"

"Certainly, Judge, cer--"

"You will inform him that I do not intend to be discommoded by hisnegligence as I pass to my offices. Tell him from me that unless hekeeps the sidewalks in front of this hotel clear of snow I will cancelhis lease. Their present condition is outrageous. Do you understandme? Outrageous! Do you hear?"

"Yes, Judge, I do so, " answered the clerk, hoarse with respect. "I'llsee to it this minute, Judge Pike. "

"You had better. " The personage turned himself about and began a grimprogress towards the door by which he had entered, his eyes fixingthemselves angrily upon the conclave at the windows. 

Colonel Flitcroft essayed a smile, a faltering one. 

"Fine weather, Judge Pike, " he said, hopefully. 

There was no response of any kind; the undershot jaw became moreintolerant. The personage made his opinion of the groupdisconcertingly plain, and the old boys understood that he knew themfor a worthless lot of senile loafers, as great a nuisance in hisbuilding as was the snow without; and much too evident was his unspokenthreat to see that the manager cleared them out of there before long. 

He nodded curtly to the only man of substance among them, Jonas Tabor, and shut the door behind him with majestic insult. He was Canaan'smillionaire. 

He was one of those dynamic creatures who leave the haunting impressionof their wills behind them, like the tails of Bo-Peep's sheep, like theevil dead men have done; he left his intolerant image in the ether fora long time after he had gone, to confront and confound the aged menand hold them in deferential and humiliated silence. Each of them wasmysteriously lowered in his own estimation, and knew that he had beenmade to seem futile and foolish in the eyes of his fellows. They wereall conscious, too, that the clerk had been acutely receptive of JudgePike's reading of them; that he was reviving from his own squelchednessthrough the later snubbing of the colonel; also that he might furtherseek to recover his poise by an attack on them for cluttering up theoffice. 

Naturally, Jonas Tabor was the first to speak. "Judge Pike's lookin'mighty well, " he said, admiringly. 

"Yes, he is, " ventured Squire Buckalew, with deference; "mighty well. "

"Yes, sir, " echoed Peter Bradbury; "mighty well. "

"He's a great man, " wheezed Uncle Joe Davey; "a great man, Judge MartinPike; a great man!"

"I expect he has considerable on his mind, " said the Colonel, who hadgrown very red. "I noticed that he hardly seemed to see us. "

"Yes, sir, " Mr. Bradbury corroborated, with an attempt at an amusedlaugh. "I noticed it, too. Of course a man with all his cares andinterests must git absent-minded now and then. "

"Of course he does, " said the colonel. "A man with all hisresponsibilities--"

"Yes, that's so, " came a chorus of the brethren, finding comfort andreassurance as their voices and spirits began to recover from theblight. 

"There's a party at the Judge's to-night, " said Mr. Bradbury--"kind ofa ball Mamie Pike's givin' for the young folks. Quite a doin's, Ihear. "

"That's another thing that's ruining Canaan, " Mr. Arp declared, morosely. "These entertainments they have nowadays. Spend all themoney out of town--band from Indianapolis, chicken salad and darkeywaiters from Chicago! And what I want to know is, What's this towngoin' to do about the nigger question?"

"What about it?" asked Mr. Davey, belligerently. 

"What about it?" Mr. Arp mocked, fiercely. "You better say, 'What aboutit?'"

"Well, what?" maintained Mr. Davey, steadfastly. 

"I'll bet there ain't any less than four thousand niggers in Canaanto-day!" Mr. Arp hammered the floor with his stick. "Every last one of'em criminals, and more comin' on every train. "

"No such a thing, " said Squire Buckalew, living up to his bounden duty. "You look down the street. There's the ten-forty-five comin' in now. I'll bet you a straight five-cent Peek-a-Boo cigar there ain't arynigger on the whole train, except the sleepin'-car porters. "

"What kind of a way to argue is that?" demanded Mr. Arp, hotly. "Bettin' ain't proof, is it? Besides, that's the through express fromthe East. I meant trains from the South. "

"You didn't say so, " retorted Buckalew, triumphantly. "Stick to yourbet, Eskew, stick to your bet. "

"My bet!" cried the outraged Eskew. "Who offered to bet?"

"You did, " replied the Squire, with perfect assurance and sincerity. The others supported him in the heartiest spirit of on-with-the-dance, and war and joy were unconfined. 

A decrepit hack or two, a couple of old-fashioned surreys, and a few"cut-unders" drove by, bearing the newly arrived and their valises, thehotel omnibus depositing several commercial travellers at the door. Asolitary figure came from the station on foot, and when it appearedwithin fair range of the window, Uncle Joe Davey, who had but hoveredon the flanks of the combat, first removed his spectacles and wipedthem, as though distrusting the vision they offered him, then, replacing them, scanned anew the approaching figure and uttered asmothered cry. 

"My Lord A'mighty!" he gasped. "What's this? Look there!"

They looked. A truce came involuntarily, and they sat in paralyticsilence as the figure made its stately and sensational progress alongMain Street. 

Not only the aged men were smitten. Men shovelling snow from thepavements stopped suddenly in their labors; two women, talking busilyon a doorstep, were stilled and remained in frozen attitudes as itpassed; a grocer's clerk, crossing the pavement, carrying a heavilyladen basket to his delivery wagon, halted half-way as the figure camenear, and then, making a pivot of his heels as it went by, behavedtowards it as does the magnetic needle to the pole. 

It was that of a tall gentleman, cheerfully, though somewhat withennui, enduring his nineteenth winter. His long and slender face hewore smiling, beneath an accurately cut plaster of dark hair cornicinghis forehead, a fashion followed by many youths of that year. Thisperfect bang was shown under a round black hat whose rim was so smallas almost not to be there at all; and the head was supported by awaxy-white sea-wall of collar, rising three inches above the bluebillows of a puffed cravat, upon which floated a large, hollow pearl. His ulster, sporting a big cape at the shoulders, and a tasselled hoodover the cape, was of a rough Scotch cloth, patterned in faint, gray-and-white squares the size of baggage-checks, and it was so longthat the skirts trailed in the snow. His legs were lost in theaccurately creased, voluminous garments that were the tailors' cannyreaction from the tight trousers with which the 'Eighties had begun:they were, in color, a palish russet, broadly striped with gray, and, in size, surpassed the milder spirit of fashion so far as theypermitted a liberal knee action to take place almost withoutsuperficial effect. Upon his feet glistened long shoes, shaped, savefor the heels, like sharp racing-shells; these were partially protectedby tan-colored low gaiters with flat, shiny, brown buttons. In onehand the youth swung a bone-handled walking-stick, perhaps an inch anda half in diameter, the other carried a yellow leather banjo-case, uponthe outer side of which glittered the embossed-silver initials, "E. B. "He was smoking, but walked with his head up, making use, however, of agait at that time new to Canaan, a seeming superbly irresponsiblelounge, engendering much motion of the shoulders, producing an effectof carelessness combined with independence--an effect which theinnocent have been known to hail as an unconscious one. 

He looked about him as he came, smilingly, with an expression ofprincely amusement--as an elderly cabinet minister, say, strollingabout a village where he had spent some months in his youth, a hamletwhich he had then thought large and imposing, but which, beingrevisited after years of cosmopolitan glory, appeals to his whimsy andhis pity. The youth's glance at the court-house unmistakably said:"Ah, I recall that odd little box. I thought it quite large in the daysbefore I became what I am now, and I dare say the good townsfolk stillthink it an imposing structure!" With everything in sight he deigned tobe amused, especially with the old faces in the "National House"windows. To these he waved his stick with airy graciousness. 

"My soul!" said Mr. Davey. "It seems to know some of us!"

"Yes, " agreed Mr. Arp, his voice recovered, "and _I_ know IT. "

"You do?" exclaimed the Colonel. 

"I do, and so do you. It's Fanny Louden's boy, 'Gene, come home forhis Christmas holidays. "

"By George! you're right, " cried Flitcroft; "I recognize him now. "

"But what's the matter with him?" asked Mr. Bradbury, eagerly. "Has hejoined some patent-medicine troupe?"

"Not a bit, " replied Eskew. "He went East to college last fall. "

"Do they MAKE the boys wear them clothes?" persisted Bradbury. "Is itsome kind of uniform?"

"I don't care what it is, " said Jonas Tabor. "If I was Henry Louden Iwouldn't let him wear 'em around here. "

"Oh, you wouldn't, wouldn't you, Jonas?" Mr. Arp employed the accentsof sarcasm. "I'd like to see Henry Louden try to interfere with 'GeneBantry. Fanny'd lock the old fool up in the cellar. "

The lofty vision lurched out of view. 

"I reckon, " said the Colonel, leaning forward to see the last of it--"Ireckon Henry Louden's about the saddest case of abused step-father Iever saw. "

"It's his own fault, " said Mr. Arp--"twice not havin' sense enough notto marry. Him with a son of his own, too!"

"Yes, " assented the Colonel, "marryin' a widow with a son of her own, and that widow Fanny!"

"Wasn't it just the same with her first husband--Bantry?" Mr. Daveyasked, not for information, as he immediately answered himself. "Youbet it was! Didn't she always rule the roost? Yes, she did. She madea god of 'Gene from the day he was born. Bantry's house was run forhim, like Louden's is now. "

"And look, " exclaimed Mr. Arp, with satisfaction, "at the way he'sturned out!"

"He ain't turned out at all yet; he's too young, " said Buckalew. "Besides, clothes don't make the man. "

"Wasn't he smokin' a cigareet!" cried Eskew, triumphantly. This wasfinal. 

"It's a pity Henry Louden can't do something for his own son, " said Mr. Bradbury. "Why don't he send him away to college?"

"Fanny won't let him, " chuckled Mr. Arp, malevolently. "Takes alltheir spare change to keep 'Gene there in style. I don't blame her. 'Gene certainly acts the fool, but that Joe Louden is the orneriest boyI ever saw in an ornery world-full. "

"He always was kind of misCHEEvous, " admitted Buckalew. "I don't thinkhe's mean, though, and it does seem kind of not just right that Joe'sfather's money--Bantry didn't leave anything to speak of--has to go tokeepin' 'Gene on the fat of the land, with Joe gittin' up at half-pastfour to carry papers, and him goin' on nineteen years old. "

"It's all he's fit for!" exclaimed Eskew. "He's low down, I tell ye. Ain't it only last week Judge Pike caught him shootin' craps withPike's nigger driver and some other nigger hired-men in the alley backof Pike's barn. "

Mr. Schindlinger, the retired grocer, one of the silent members, corroborated Eskew's information. "I heert dot, too, " he gave forth, inhis fat voice. "He blays dominoes pooty often in der room back offLouie Farbach's tsaloon. I see him myself. Pooty often. Blayin' fer aleedle money--mit loafers! Loafers!"

"Pretty outlook for the Loudens!" said Eskew Arp, much pleased. "Oneboy a plum fool and dressed like it, the other gone to the dogsalready!"

"What could you expect Joe to be?" retorted Squire Buckalew. "Whatchance has he ever had? Long as I can remember Fanny's made him fetchand carry for 'Gene. 'Gene's had everything--all the fancy clothes, all the pocket-money, and now college!"

"You ever hear that boy Joe talk politics?" asked Uncle Joe Davey, crossing a cough with a chuckle. "His head's so full of schemes ferrunning this town, and state, too, it's a wonder it don't bust. HenryLouden told me he's see Joe set around and study by the hour how tosave three million dollars for the state in two years. "

"And the best he can do for himself, " added Eskew, "is deliverin' theDaily Tocsin on a second-hand Star bicycle and gamblin' with niggersand riff-raff! None of the nice young folks invite him to their doin'sany more. "

"That's because he's got so shabby he's quit goin' with em, " saidBuckalew. 

"No, it ain't, " snapped Mr. Arp. "It's because he's so low down. He'sno more 'n a town outcast. There ain't ary one of the girls 'll have athing to do with him, except that rip-rarin' tom-boy next door toLouden's; and the others don't have much to do with HER, neither, I cantell ye. That Arie Tabor--"

Colonel Flitcroft caught him surreptitiously by the arm. "SH, Eskew!"he whispered. "Look out what you're sayin'!"

"You needn't mind me, " Jonas Tabor spoke up, crisply. "I washed myhands of all responsibility for Roger's branch of the family long ago. Never was one of 'em had the energy or brains to make a decent livin', beginning with Roger; not one worth his salt! I set Roger's son up inbusiness, and all the return he ever made me was to go into bankruptcyand take to drink, till he died a sot, like his wife did of shame. Idone all I could when I handed him over my store, and I never expect tolift a finger for 'em again. Ariel Tabor's my grandniece, but shedidn't act like it, and you can say anything you like about her, forwhat I care. The last time I spoke to her was a year and a half ago, and I don't reckon I'll ever trouble to again. "

"How was that, Jonas?" quickly inquired Mr. Davey, who, being theeldest of the party, was the most curious. "What happened?"

"She was out in the street, up on that high bicycle of Joe Louden's. He was teachin' her to ride, and she was sittin' on it like a man does. I stopped and told her she wasn't respectable. Sixteen years old, goin'on seventeen!"

"What did she say?"

"Laughed, " said Jonas, his voice becoming louder as the recital of hiswrongs renewed their sting in his soul. "Laughed!"

"What did you do?"

"I went up to her and told her she wasn't a decent girl, and shook thewheel. " Mr. Tabor illustrated by seizing the lapels of Joe Davey andshaking him. "I told her if her grandfather had any spunk she'd git anold-fashioned hidin' for behavin' that way. And I shook the wheelagain. " Here Mr. Tabor, forgetting in the wrath incited by therecollection that he had not to do with an inanimate object, swung thegasping and helpless Mr. Davey rapidly back and forth in his chair. "Ishook it good and hard!"

"What did she do then?" asked Peter Bradbury. 

"Fell off on me, " replied Jonas, violently. "On purpose!"

"I wisht she'd killed ye, " said Mr. Davey, in a choking voice, as, released, he sank back in his chair. 

"On purpose!" repeated Jonas. "And smashed a straw hat I hadn't hadthree months! All to pieces! So it couldn't be fixed!"

"And what then?" pursued Bradbury. 

"SHE ran, " replied Jonas, bitterly--"ran! And Joe Louden--JoeLouden--" He paused and gulped. 

"What did he do?" Peter leaned forward in his chair eagerly. 

The narrator of the outrage gulped again, and opened and shut his mouthbefore responding. 

"He said if I didn't pay for a broken spoke on his wheel he'd have tosue me!"

No one inquired if Jonas had paid, and Jonas said no more. Therecollection of his wrongs, together with the illustrative violenceoffered to Mr. Davey, had been too much for him. He sank back, panting, in his chair, his hands fluttering nervously over his heart, and closed his eyes. 

"I wonder why, " ruminated Mr. Bradbury--"I wonder why 'Gene Bantrywalked up from the deepo. Don't seem much like his style. Shouldthink he'd of rode up in a hack. "

"Sho!" said Uncle Joe Davey, his breath recovered. "He wanted to walkup past Judge Pike's, to see if there wasn't a show of Mamie's bein' atthe window, and give her a chance to look at that college uniform andbanjo-box and new walk of his. "

Mr. Arp began to show signs of uneasiness. 

"I'd like mighty well to know, " he said, shifting round in his chair, "if there's anybody here that's been able to answer the question I PUT, yesterday, just before we went home. You all tried to, but I didn'thear anything I could consider anyways near even a fair argument. "

"Who tried to?" asked Buckalew, sharply, sitting up straight. "Whatquestion?"

"What proof can you bring me, " began Mr. Arp, deliberately, "that wefolks, modernly, ain't more degenerate than the ancient Romans?"

II

A RESCUE

Main Street, already muffled by the snow, added to its quietude afrozen hush where the wonder-bearing youth pursued his course along itswhite, straight way. None was there in whom impertinence overmasteredastonishment, or who recovered from the sight in time to jeer witheffect; no "Trab's boy" gathered courage to enact in the thoroughfare ascene of mockery and of joy. Leaving business at a temporarystand-still behind him, Mr. Bantry swept his long coat steadily overthe snow and soon emerged upon that part of the street where the martgave way to the home. The comfortable houses stood pleasantly backfrom the street, with plenty of lawn and shrubbery about them; andoften, along the picket-fences, the laden branches of small cedars, bending low with their burden, showered the young man's swingingshoulders glitteringly as he brushed by. 

And now that expression he wore--the indulgent amusement of a man ofthe world--began to disintegrate and show signs of change. It becamefinely grave, as of a high conventionality, lofty, assured, andmannered, as he approached the Pike mansion. (The remotest strangermust at once perceive that the Canaan papers could not have called itotherwise without pain. )

It was a big, smooth-stone-faced house, product of the 'Seventies, frowning under an outrageously insistent mansard, capped by a cupola, and staring out of long windows overtopped with "ornamental" slabs. Two cast-iron deer, painted death-gray, twins of the same mould, stoodon opposite sides of the front walk, their backs towards it and eachother, their bodies in profile to the street, their necks bent, however, so that they gazed upon the passer-by--yet gazed withoutemotion. Two large, calm dogs guarded the top of the steps leading tothe front-door; they also were twins and of the same interesting metal, though honored beyond the deer by coats of black paint and shellac. Itwas to be remarked that these dogs were of no distinguishable speciesor breed, yet they were unmistakably dogs; the dullest must haverecognized them as such at a glance, which was, perhaps, enough. Itwas a hideous house, important-looking, cold, yet harshly aggressive, ahouse whose exterior provoked a shuddering guess of the brasslambrequins and plush fringes within; a solid house, obviously--nay, blatantly--the residence of the principal citizen, whom it had grown toresemble, as is the impish habit of houses; and it sat in the middle ofits flat acre of snowy lawn like a rich, fat man enraged and sittingstraight up in bed to swear. 

And yet there was one charming thing about this ugly house. Someworkmen were enclosing a large side porch with heavy canvas, evidentlyfor festal purposes. Looking out from between two strips of the canvaswas the rosy and delicate face of a pretty girl, smiling upon EugeneBantry as he passed. It was an obviously pretty face, all the youthand prettiness there for your very first glance; elaborately pretty, like the splendid profusion of hair about and above it--amber-coloredhair, upon which so much time had been spent that a circle of large, round curls rose above the mass of it like golden bubbles tipping acoronet. 

The girl's fingers were pressed thoughtfully against her chin as Eugenestrode into view; immediately her eyes widened and brightened. Heswung along the fence with the handsomest appearance ofunconsciousness, until he reached a point nearly opposite her. Then heturned his head, as if haphazardly, and met her eyes. At once shethrew out her hand towards him, waving him a greeting--a gesture which, as her fingers had been near her lips, was a little like throwing akiss. He crooked an elbow and with a one-two-three military movementremoved his small-brimmed hat, extended it to full arm's-length at theshoulder-level, returned it to his head with Life-Guard precision. Thiswas also new to Canaan. He was letting Mamie Pike have it all at once. 

The impression was as large as he could have desired. She remained atthe opening in the canvas and watched him until he wagged his shouldersround the next corner and disappeared into a cross street. As forEugene, he was calm with a great calm, and very red. 

He had not covered a great distance, however, before his gravity wasreplaced by his former smiling look of the landed gentleman amused bythe innocent pastimes of the peasants, though there was no one in sightexcept a woman sweeping some snow from the front steps of a cottage, and she, not perceiving him, retired in-doors without knowing her loss. He had come to a thinly built part of the town, the perfect quiet ofwhich made the sound he heard as he opened the picket gate of his ownhome all the more startling. It was a scream--loud, frantic, andterror-stricken. 

Eugene stopped, with the gate half open. 

Out of the winter skeleton of a grape-arbor at one side of thefour-square brick house a brown-faced girl of seventeen precipitatedherself through the air in the midst of a shower of torn card-boardwhich she threw before her as she leaped. She lit upon her toes andheaded for the gate at top speed, pursued by a pale young man whosethin arms strove spasmodically to reach her. Scattering snow behindthem, hair flying, the pair sped on like two tattered branches before ahigh wind; for, as they came nearer Eugene (of whom, in the tensity oftheir flight, they took no note), it was to be seen that both were soshabbily dressed as to be almost ragged. There was a brown patch uponthe girl's faded skirt at the knee; the shortness of the garmentindicating its age to be something over three years, as well aspermitting the knowledge to become more general than befitting that hercotton stockings had been clumsily darned in several places. Herpursuer was in as evil case; his trousers displayed a tendency tofringedness at pocket and heel; his coat, blowing open as he ran, threwpennants of torn lining to the breeze, and made it too plain that therewere but three buttons on his waistcoat. 

The girl ran beautifully, but a fleeter foot was behind her, and thoughshe dodged and evaded like a creature of the woods, the reaching handfell upon the loose sleeve of her red blouse, nor fell lightly. Shegave a wrench of frenzy; the antique fabric refused the strain; partedat the shoulder seam so thoroughly that the whole sleeve came away--butnot to its owner's release, for she had been brought round by the jerk, so that, agile as she had shown herself, the pursuer threw an arm abouther neck, before she could twist away, and held her. 

There was a sharp struggle, as short as it was fierce. Neither ofthese extraordinary wrestlers spoke. They fought. Victory hung in thebalance for perhaps four seconds; then the girl was thrown heavily uponher back, in such a turmoil of snow that she seemed to be the merenucleus of a white comet. She struggled to get up, plying knee andelbow with a very anguish of determination; but her opponent held her, pinioned both her wrists with one hand, and with the other rubbed greathandfuls of snow into her face, sparing neither mouth nor eyes. 

"You will!" he cried. "You will tear up my pictures! A dirty trick, and you get washed for it!"

Half suffocated, choking, gasping, she still fought on, squirming andkicking with such spirit that the pair of them appeared to the beholderlike figures of mist writhing in a fountain of snow. 

More violence was to mar the peace of morning. Unexpectedly attackedfrom the rear, the conqueror was seized by the nape of the neck and onewrist, and jerked to his feet, simultaneously receiving a succession ofkicks from his assailant. Prompted by an entirely natural curiosity, heessayed to turn his head to see who this might be, but a twist of hisforearm and the pressure of strong fingers under his ear constrainedhim to remain as he was; therefore, abandoning resistance, and, oddlyenough, accepting without comment the indication that his captordesired to remain for the moment incognito, he resorted calmly toexplanations. 

"She tore up a picture of mine, " he said, receiving the punishmentwithout apparent emotion. "She seemed to think because she'd drawn itherself she had a right to. "

There was a slight whimsical droop at the corner of his mouth as hespoke, which might have been thought characteristic of him. He was anodd-looking boy, not ill-made, though very thin and not tall. Hispallor was clear and even, as though constitutional; the features weredelicate, almost childlike, but they were very slightly distorted, through nervous habit, to an expression at once wistful and humorous;one eyebrow was a shade higher than the other, one side of the mouthslightly drawn down; the eyelids twitched a little, habitually; thefine, blue eyes themselves were almost comically reproachful--the lookof a puppy who thinks you would not have beaten him if you had knownwhat was in his heart. All of this was in the quality of his voice, too, as he said to his invisible captor, with an air of detachment fromany personal feeling:

"What peculiar shoes you wear! I don't think I ever felt any sopointed before. "

The rescuing knight took no thought of offering to help the persecuteddamsel to arise; instead, he tightened his grip upon the prisoner'sneck until, perforce, water--not tears--started from the latter's eyes. 

"You miserable little muff, " said the conqueror, "what the devil do youmean, making this scene on our front lawn?"

"Why, it's Eugene!" exclaimed the helpless one. "They didn't expect youtill to-night. When did you get in?"

"Just in time to give you a lesson, my buck, " replied Bantry, grimly. "In GOOD time for that, my playful step-brother. "

He began to twist the other's wrist--a treatment of bone and ligamentin the application of which school-boys and even freshmen are oftenadept. Eugene made the torture acute, and was apparently enjoying thework, when suddenly--without any manner of warning--he received anastounding blow upon the left ear, which half stunned him for themoment, and sent his hat flying and himself reeling, so great was thesurprise and shock of it. It was not a slap, not an open-handed push, nothing like it, but a fierce, well-delivered blow from a clinched fistwith the shoulder behind it, and it was the girl who had given it. 

"Don't you dare to touch Joe!" she cried, passionately. "Don't you laya finger on him. "

Furious and red, he staggered round to look at her. 

"You wretched little wild-cat, what do you mean by that?" he broke out. 

"Don't you touch Joe!" she panted. "Don't you--" Her breath caughtand there was a break in her voice as she faced him. She could notfinish the repetition of that cry, "Don't you touch Joe!"

But there was no break in the spirit, that passion of protection whichhad dealt the blow. Both boys looked at her, something aghast. 

She stood before them, trembling with rage and shivering with cold inthe sudden wind which had come up. Her hair had fallen and blew acrossher streaming face in brown witch-wisps; one of the ill-darnedstockings had come down and hung about her shoe in folds full of snow;the arm which had lost its sleeve was bare and wet; thin as the arm ofa growing boy, it shook convulsively, and was red from shoulder toclinched fist. She was covered with snow. Mists of white drift blewacross her, mercifully half veiling her. 

Eugene recovered himself. He swung round upon his heel, restored hishat to his head with precision, picked up his stick and touched hisbanjo-case with it. 

"Carry that into the house, " he said, indifferently, to hisstep-brother. 

"Don't you do it!" said the girl, hotly, between her chattering teeth. 

Eugene turned towards her, wearing the sharp edge of a smile. Notremoving his eyes from her face, he produced with deliberation a flatsilver box from a pocket, took therefrom a cigarette, replaced the box, extracted a smaller silver box from another pocket, shook out of it afusee, slowly lit the cigarette--this in a splendid silence, which hefinally broke to say, languidly, but with particular distinctness:

"Ariel Tabor, go home!"

The girl's teeth stopped chattering, her lips remaining parted; sheshook the hair out of her eyes and stared at him as if she did notunderstand, but Joe Louden, who had picked up the banjo-caseobediently, burst into cheerful laughter. 

"That's it, 'Gene, " he cried, gayly. "That's the way to talk to her!"

"Stow it, you young cub, " replied Eugene, not turning to him. "Do youthink I'm trying to be amusing?"

"I don't know what you mean by 'stow it, '" Joe began, "but if--"

"I mean, " interrupted the other, not relaxing his faintly smiling stareat the girl--"I mean that Ariel Tabor is to go home. Really, we can'thave this kind of thing occurring upon our front lawn!"

The flush upon her wet cheeks deepened and became dark; even her armgrew redder as she gazed back at him. In his eyes was patent hiscomplete realization of the figure she cut, of this bare arm, of thestrewn hair, of the fallen stocking, of the ragged shoulder of herblouse, of her patched short skirt, of the whole dishevelled littlefigure. He was the master of the house, and he was sending her home asill-behaved children are sent home by neighbors. 

The immobile, amused superiority of this proprietor of silver boxes, this wearer of strange and brilliant garments, became slightlyintensified as he pointed to the fallen sleeve, a rag of red and snow, lying near her feet. 

"You might take that with you?" he said, interrogatively. 

Her gaze had not wavered in meeting his, but at this her eyelashesbegan to wink uncontrollably, her chin to tremble. She bent over thesleeve and picked it up, before Joe Louden, who had started towardsher, could do it for her. Then turning, her head still bent so thather face was hidden from both of them, she ran out of the gate. 

"DO go!" Joe called after her, vehemently. "Go! Just to show what afool you are to think 'Gene's in earnest. "

He would have followed, but his step-brother caught him by the arm. "Don't stop her, " said Eugene. "Can't you tell when I AM in earnest, you bally muff!"

"I know you are, " returned the other, in a low voice. "I didn't wanther to think so for your sake. "

"Thousands of thanks, " said Eugene, airily. "You are a wise youngjudge. She couldn't stay--in THAT state, could she? I sent her forher own good. "

"She could have gone in the house and your mother might have loaned hera jacket, " returned Joe, swallowing. "You had no business to make hergo out in the street like that. "

Eugene laughed. "There isn't a soul in sight--and there, she's allright now. She's home. "

Ariel had run along the fence until she came to the next gate, whichopened upon a walk leading to a shabby, meandering old house of onestory, with a very long, low porch, once painted white, running thefull length of the front. Ariel sprang upon the porch and disappearedwithin the house. 

Joe stood looking after her, his eyelashes winking as had hers. "Yououghtn't to have treated her that way, " he said, huskily. 

Eugene laughed again. "How were YOU treating her when I came up? Youbully her all you want to yourself, but nobody else must say even afatherly word to her!"

"That wasn't bullying, " explained Joe. "We fight all the time. "

"Mais oui!" assented Eugene. "I fancy!"

"What?" said the other, blankly. 

"Pick up that banjo-case again and come on, " commanded Mr. Bantry, tartly. "Where's the mater?"

Joe stared at him. "Where's what?"

"The mater!" was the frowning reply. 

"Oh yes, I know!" said Joe, looking at his step-brother curiously. "I've seen it in stories. She's up-stairs. You'll be a surprise. You're wearing lots of clothes, 'Gene. "

"I suppose it will seem so to Canaan, " returned the other, weariedly. "Governor feeling fit?"

"I never saw him, " Joe replied; then caught himself. "Oh, I see whatyou mean! Yes, he's all right. "

They had come into the hall, and Eugene was removing the long coat, while his step-brother looked at him thoughtfully. 

"'Gene, " asked the latter, in a softened voice, "have you seen MamiePike yet?"

"You will find, my young friend, " responded Mr. Bantry, "if you ever goabout much outside of Canaan, that ladies' names are not supposed to bementioned indiscriminately. "

"It's only, " said Joe, "that I wanted to say that there's a dance attheir house to-night. I suppose you'll be going?"

"Certainly. Are you?"

Both knew that the question was needless; but Joe answered, gently:

"Oh no, of course not. " He leaned over and fumbled with one foot as ifto fasten a loose shoe-string. "She wouldn't be very likely to ask me. "

"Well, what about it?"

"Only that--that Arie Tabor's going. "

"Indeed!" Eugene paused on the stairs, which he had begun to ascend. "Very interesting. "

"I thought, " continued Joe, hopefully, straightening up to look at him, "that maybe you'd dance with her. I don't believe many will askher--I'm afraid they won't--and if you would, even only once, it wouldkind of make up for"--he faltered--"for out there, " he finished, nodding his head in the direction of the gate. 

If Eugene vouchsafed any reply, it was lost in a loud, shrill cry fromabove, as a small, intensely nervous-looking woman in blue silk ranhalf-way down the stairs to meet him and caught him tearfully in herarms. 

"Dear old mater!" said Eugene. 

Joe went out of the front-door quickly. 

III

OLD HOPES

The door which Ariel had entered opened upon a narrow hall, and downthis she ran to her own room, passing, with face averted, the entranceto the broad, low-ceilinged chamber that had served Roger Tabor as astudio for almost fifty years. He was sitting there now, in a hopelessand disconsolate attitude, with his back towards the double doors, which were open, and had been open since their hinges had begun to giveway, when Ariel was a child. Hearing her step, he called her name, butdid not turn; and, receiving no answer, sighed faintly as he heard herown door close upon her. 

Then, as his eyes wandered about the many canvases which leaned againstthe dingy walls, he sighed again. Usually they showed their brownbacks, but to-day he had turned them all to face outward. Twilight, sunset, moonlight (the Court-house in moonlight), dawn, morning, noon(Main Street at noon), high summer, first spring, red autumn, midwinter, all were there--illimitably detailed, worked to a smoothnesslike a glaze, and all lovingly done with unthinkable labor. 

And there were "Italian Flower-Sellers, " damsels with careful hair, twofigures together, one blonde, the other as brunette as lampblack, theblonde--in pink satin and blue slippers--leaning against a pillar andsmiling over the golden coins for which she had exchanged her posies;the brunette seated at her feet, weeping upon an unsold bouquet. Therewere red-sashed "Fisher Lads" wading with butterfly-nets on theirshoulders; there was a "Tying the Ribbon on Pussy's Neck"; there wereportraits in oil and petrifactions in crayon, as hard and tight as thepurses of those who had refused to accept them, leaving them upon theirmaker's hands because the likeness had failed. 

After a time the old man got up, went to his easel near a window, and, sighing again, began patiently to work upon one of these failures--aportrait, in oil, of a savage old lady, which he was doing from aphotograph. The expression of the mouth and the shape of the nose hadnot pleased her descendants and the beneficiaries under the will, andit was upon the images of these features that Roger labored. He leanedfar forward, with his face close to the canvas, holding his brushesafter the Spencerian fashion, working steadily through the afternoon, and, when the light grew dimmer, leaning closer to his canvas to see. When it had become almost dark in the room, he lit a student-lamp witha green-glass shade, and, placing it upon a table beside him, continuedto paint. Ariel's voice interrupted him at last. 

"It's quitting-time, grandfather, " she called, gently, from the doorwaybehind him. 

He sank back in his chair, conscious, for the first time, of how tiredhe had grown. "I suppose so, " he said, "though it seemed to me that Iwas just getting my hand in. " His eyes brightened for a moment. "Ideclare, I believe I've caught it a great deal better. Come and look, Ariel. Doesn't it seem to you that I'm getting it? Those pearlyshadows in the flesh--"

"I'm sure of it. Those people ought to be very proud to have it. " Shecame to him quietly, took the palette and brushes from his hands andbegan to clean them, standing in the shadow behind him. "It's too goodfor them. "

"I wonder if it is, " he said, slowly, leaning forward and curving hishands about his eyes so as to shut off everything from his view exceptthe canvas. "I wonder if it is!" he repeated. Then his hands droppedsadly in his lap, and he sank back again with a patient kind ofrevulsion. "No, no, it isn't! I always think they're good when I'vejust finished them. I've been fooled that way all my life. They don'tlook the same afterwards. "

"They're always beautiful, " she said, softly. 

"Ah, ah!" he sighed. 

"Now, Roger!" she cried, with cheerful sharpness, continuing her work. 

"I know, " he said, with a plaintive laugh, --"I know. Sometimes I thinkthat all my reward has been in the few minutes I've had just afterfinishing them. During those few minutes I seem to see in them allthat I wanted to put in them; I see it because what I've been trying toexpress is still so warm in my own eyes that I seem to have got it onthe canvas where I wanted it. "

"But you do, " she said. "You do get it there. "

"No, " he murmured, in return. "I never did. I got out some of the oldones when I came in this morning, some that I hadn't looked at foryears, and it's the same with them. You can do it much betteryourself--your sketches show it. "

"No, no!" she protested, quickly. 

"Yes, they do; and I wondered if it was only because you were young. But those I did when I was young are almost the same as the ones Ipaint now. I haven't learned much. There hasn't been any one to showme! And you can't learn from print, never! Yet I've grown in what ISEE--grown so that the world is full of beauty to me that I neverdreamed of seeing when I began. But I can't paint it--I can't get it onthe canvas. Ah, I think I might have known how to, if I hadn't had toteach myself, if I could only have seen how some of the other fellowsdid their work. If I'd ever saved money to get away from Canaan--if Icould have gone away from it and come back knowing how to paint it--ifI could have got to Paris for just one month! PARIS--for just onemonth!"

"Perhaps we will; you can't tell what MAY happen. " It was always herreply to this cry of his. 

"PARIS--for just one month!" he repeated, with infinite wistfulness, and then realizing what an old, old cry it was with him, he shook hishead, impatiently sniffing out a laugh at himself, rose and wentpottering about among the canvases, returning their faces to the wall, and railing at them mutteringly. 

"Whatever took me into it, I don't know. I might have done somethinguseful. But I couldn't bring myself ever to consider doing anythingelse--I couldn't bear even to think of it! Lord forgive me, I eventried to encourage your father to paint. Perhaps he might as well, poorboy, as to have put all he'd made into buying Jonas out. Ah me! Thereyou go, 'Flower-Girls'! Turn your silly faces to the wall and smileand cry there till I'm gone and somebody throws you on a bonfire. I'LLnever look at you again. " He paused, with the canvas half turned. "And yet, " he went on, reflectively, "a man promised me thirty-fivedollars for that picture once. I painted it to order, but he went awaybefore I finished it, and never answered the letters I wrote him aboutit. I wish I had the money now--perhaps we could have more than twomeals a day. "

"We don't need more, " said Ariel, scraping the palette attentively. "It's healthier with only breakfast and supper. I think I'd ratherhave a new dress than dinner. "

"I dare say you would, " the old man mused. "You're young--you're young. What were you doing all this afternoon, child?"

"In my room, trying to make over mamma's wedding-dress for to-night. "

"To-night?"

"Mamie Pike invited me to a dance at their house. "

"Very well; I'm glad you're going to be gay, " he said, not seeing thefaintly bitter smile that came to her face. 

"I don't think I'll be very gay, " she answered. 

"I don't know why I go--nobody ever asks me to dance. "

"Why not?" he asked, with an old man's astonishment. 

"I don't know. Perhaps it's because I don't dress very well. " Then, as he made a sorrowful gesture, she cut him off before he could speak. "Oh, it isn't altogether because we're poor; it's more I don't know howto wear what I've got, the way some girls do. I never cared muchand--well, I'M not worrying, Roger! And I think I've done a good dealwith mamma's dress. It's a very grand dress. I wonder I never thoughtof wearing it until to-day. I may be"--she laughed and blushed--"I maybe the belle of the ball--who knows!"

"You'll want me to walk over with you and come for you afterwards, Iexpect. "

"Only to take me. It may be late when I come away--if a good manySHOULD ask me to dance, for once! Of course I could come home alone. But Joe Louden is going to sort of hang around outside, and he'll meetme at the gate and see me safe home. "

"Oh!" he exclaimed, blankly. 

"Isn't it all right?" she asked. 

"I think I'd better come for you, " he answered, gently. "The truth is, I--I think you'd better not be with Joe Louden a great deal. "

"Why?"

"Well, he doesn't seem a vicious boy to me, but I'm afraid he's gettingrather a bad name, my dear. "

"He's not getting one, " she said, gravely. "He's already got one. He's had a bad name in Canaan for a long while. It grew in the firstplace out of shabbiness and mischief, but it did grow; and if peoplekeep on giving him a bad name the time will come when he'll live up toit. He's not any worse than I am, and I guess my own name isn't toogood--for a girl. And yet, so far, there's nothing against him excepthis bad name. "

"I'm afraid there is, " said Roger. "It doesn't look very well for ayoung man of his age to be doing no better than delivering papers. "

"It gives him time to study law, " she answered, quickly. "If heclerked all day in a store, he couldn't. "

"I didn't know he was studying now. I thought I'd heard that he was ina lawyer's office for a few weeks last year, and was turned out forsetting fire to it with a pipe--"

"It was an accident, " she interposed. 

"But some pretty important papers were burned, and after that none ofthe other lawyers would have him. "

"He's not in an office, " she admitted. "I didn't mean that. But hestudies a great deal. He goes to the courts all the time they're insession, and he's bought some books of his own. "

"Well--perhaps, " he assented; "but they say he gambles and drinks, andthat last week Judge Pike threatened to have him arrested for throwingdice with some negroes behind the Judge's stable. "

"What of it? I'm about the only nice person in town that will haveanything to do with him--and nobody except you thinks I'M very nice!"

"Ariel! Ariel!"

"I know all about his gambling with darkies, " she continued, excitedly, her voice rising, "and I know that he goes to saloons, and that he's anintimate friend of half the riffraff in town; and I know the reason forit, too, because he's told me. He wants to know them, to understandthem; and he says some day they'll make him a power, and then he canhelp them!"

The old man laughed helplessly. "But I can't let him bring you home, my dear. "

She came to him slowly and laid her hands upon his shoulders. Grandfather and granddaughter were nearly of the same height, and shelooked squarely into his eyes. "Then you must say it is because youwant to come for me, not because I mustn't come with Joe. "

"But I think it is a little because you mustn't come with Joe, " heanswered, "especially from the Pikes'. Don't you see that it mightn'tbe well for Joe himself, if the Judge should happen to see him? Iunderstand he warned the boy to keep away from the neighborhoodentirely or he would have him locked up for dice-throwing. The Judgeis a very influential man, you know, and as determined in matters likethis as he is irritable. "

"Oh, if you put it on that ground, " the girl replied, her eyessoftening, "I think you'd better come for me yourself. "

"Very well, I put it on that ground, " he returned, smiling upon her. 

"Then I'll send Joe word and get supper, " she said, kissing him. 

It was the supper-hour not only for them but everywhere in Canaan, andthe cold air of the streets bore up and down and around corners thesmell of things frying. The dining-room windows of all the housesthrew bright patches on the snow of the side-yards; the windows ofother rooms, except those of the kitchens, were dark, for the rule ofthe place was Puritanical in thrift, as in all things; and the goodhousekeepers disputed every record of the meters with unhappygas-collectors. 

There was no better housekeeper in town than Mrs. Louden, nor athriftier, but hers was one of the few houses in Canaan, that evening, which showed bright lights in the front rooms while the family were atsupper. It was proof of the agitation caused by the arrival of Eugenethat she forgot to turn out the gas in her parlor, and in the chambershe called a library, on her way to the evening meal. 

That might not have been thought a cheerful feast for Joe Louden. Thefatted calf was upon the board, but it had not been provided for theprodigal, who, in this case, was the brother that stayed at home: thefete rewarded the good brother, who had been in strange lands, and thegood one had found much honor in his wanderings, as he carelessly letit appear. Mrs. Louden brightened inexpressibly whenever Eugene spokeof himself, and consequently she glowed most of the time. Herhusband--a heavy, melancholy, silent man with a grizzled beard and nomustache--lowered at Joe throughout the meal, but appeared to take astrange comfort in his step-son's elegance and polish. Eugene wore newevening clothes and was lustrous to eye and ear. 

Joe escaped as soon as he could, though not before the count of hislater sins had been set before Eugene in detail, in mass, and in all oftheir depth, breadth, and thickness. His father spoke but once, afternodding heavily to confirm all points of Mrs. Louden's recital. 

"You better use any influence you've got with your brother, " he said toEugene, "to make him come to time. I can't do anything with him. Ifhe gets in trouble, he needn't come to me! I'll never help him again. I'm TIRED of it!"

Eugene glanced twinklingly at the outcast. "I didn't know he was sucha roarer as all that!" he said, lightly, not taking Joe as of enoughconsequence to be treated as a sinner. 

This encouraged Mrs. Louden to pathos upon the subject of her shamebefore other women when Joe happened to be mentioned, and the supperwas finished with the topic. Joe slipped away through the kitchen, sneakingly, and climbed the back fence. In the alley he lit a cheapcigarette, and thrusting his hands into his pockets and shiveringviolently--for he had no overcoat, --walked away singing to himself, "ASpanish cavalier stood in his retreat, " his teeth affording anappropriate though involuntary castanet accompaniment. 

His movements throughout the earlier part of that evening are ofuncertain report. It is known that he made a partial payment offorty-five cents at a second-hand book-store for a number ofvolumes--Grindstaff on Torts and some others--which he had negotiatedon the instalment system; it is also believed that he won twenty-eightcents playing seven-up in the little room behind Louie Farbach's bar;but these things are of little import compared to the established factthat at eleven o'clock he was one of the ball guests at the PikeMansion. He took no active part in the festivities, nor was he one ofthe dancers: his was, on the contrary, the role of a quiet observer. He lay stretched at full length upon the floor of the enclosed porch(one of the strips of canvas was later found to have been loosened), wedged between the outer railing and a row of palms in green tubs. Theposition he occupied was somewhat too draughty to have been recommendedby a physician, but he commanded, between the leaves of the screeningpalms, an excellent view of the room nearest the porch. A long window, open, afforded communication between this room, one of those used fordancing, and the dim bower which had been made of the veranda, whitherflirtatious couples made their way between the dances. 

It was not to play eavesdropper upon any of these that the uninvitedJoe had come. He was not there to listen, and it is possible that, hadthe curtains of other windows afforded him the chance to behold thedance, he might not have risked the dangers of his present position. He had not the slightest interest in the whispered coquetries that heheard; he watched only to catch now and then, over the shoulders of thedancers, a fitful glimpse of a pretty head that flitted across thewindow--the amber hair of Mamie Pike. He shivered in the draughts; andthe floor of the porch was cement, painful to elbow and knee, the spacewhere he lay cramped and narrow; but the golden bubbles of her hair, the shimmer of her dainty pink dress, and the fluffy wave of her lacescarf as she crossed and recrossed in a waltz, left him, apparently, inno discontent. He watched with parted lips, his pale cheeks reddeningwhenever those fair glimpses were his. At last she came out to theveranda with Eugene and sat upon a little divan, so close to Joe that, daring wildly in the shadow, he reached out a trembling hand and lethis fingers rest upon the end of her scarf, which had fallen from hershoulders and touched the floor. She sat with her back to him, as didEugene. 

"You have changed, I think, since last summer, " he heard her say, reflectively. 

"For the worse, ma cherie?" Joe's expression might have been worthseeing when Eugene said "ma cherie, " for it was known in the Loudenhousehold that Mr. Bantry had failed to pass his examination in theFrench language. 

"No, " she answered. "But you have seen so much and accomplished somuch since then. You have become so polished and so--" She paused, andthen continued, "But perhaps I'd better not say it; you might beoffended. "

"No. I want you to say it, " he returned, confidently, and hisconfidence was fully justified, for she said:

"Well, then, I mean that you have become so thoroughly a man of theworld. Now I've said it! You ARE offended--aren't you?"

"Not at all, not at all, " replied Mr. Bantry, preventing by a masterfuleffort his pleasure from showing in his face. "Though I suppose youmean to imply that I'm rather wicked. "

"Oh no, " said Mamie, with profound admiration, "not exactly wicked. "

"University life IS fast nowadays, " Eugene admitted. "It's difficultnot to be drawn into it!"

"And I suppose you look down on poor little Canaan now, and everybodyin it!"

"Oh no, " he laughed, indulgently. "Not at all, not at all! I find itvery amusing. "

"All of it?"

"Not you, " he answered, becoming very grave. 

"Honestly--DON'T you?" Her young voice trembled a little. 

"Honestly--indeed--truly--" Eugene leaned very close to her and thewords were barely audible. 

"You KNOW I don't!"

"Then I'm--glad, " she whispered, and Joe saw his step-brother touch herhand, but she rose quickly. "There's the music, " she cried, happily. "It's a waltz, and it's YOURS!"

Joe heard her little high heels tapping gayly towards the window, followed by the heavier tread of Eugene, but he did not watch them go. 

He lay on his back, with the hand that had touched Mamie's scarfpressed across his closed eyes. 

The music of that waltz was of the old-fashioned swingingly sorrowfulsort, and it would be hard to say how long it was after that before theboy could hear the air played without a recurrence of the bitterness ofthat moment. The rhythmical pathos of the violins was in such accordwith a faint sound of weeping which he heard near him, presently, thatfor a little while he believed this sound to be part of the music andpart of himself. Then it became more distinct, and he raised himselfon one elbow to look about. 

Very close to him, sitting upon the divan in the shadow, was a girlwearing a dress of beautiful silk. She was crying softly, her face inher hands. 

IV

THE DISASTER

Ariel had worked all the afternoon over her mother's wedding-gown, andtwo hours were required by her toilet for the dance. She curled herhair frizzily, burning it here and there, with a slate-pencil heatedover a lamp chimney, and she placed above one ear three or four largeartificial roses, taken from an old hat of her mother's, which she hadfound in a trunk in the store-room. Possessing no slippers, shecarefully blacked and polished her shoes, which had been clumsilyresoled, and fastened into the strings of each small rosettes of redribbon; after which she practised swinging the train of her skirt untilshe was proud of her manipulation of it. She had no powder, but foundin her grandfather's room a lump of magnesia, that he was in the habitof taking for heart-burn, and passed it over and over her brown faceand hands. Then a lingering gaze into her small mirror gave her joy atlast: she yearned so hard to see herself charming that she did seeherself so. Admiration came and she told herself that she was moreattractive to look at than she had ever been in her life, and that, perhaps, at last she might begin to be sought for like other girls. The little glass showed a sort of prettiness in her thin, unmaturedyoung face; tripping dance-tunes ran through her head, her feet keepingthe time, --ah, she did so hope to dance often that night!Perhaps--perhaps she might be asked for every number. And so, wrappingan old waterproof cloak about her, she took her grandfather's arm andsallied forth, high hopes in her beating heart. 

It was in the dressing-room that the change began to come. Alone, athome in her own ugly little room, she had thought herself almostbeautiful, but here in the brightly lighted chamber crowded with theother girls it was different. There was a big cheval-glass at one endof the room, and she faced it, when her turn came--for the mirror waspopular--with a sinking spirit. There was the contrast, like a picturepainted and framed. The other girls all wore their hair after thefashion introduced to Canaan by Mamie Pike the week before, on herreturn from a visit to Chicago. None of them had "crimped" and nonehad bedecked their tresses with artificial flowers. Her alterations ofthe wedding-dress had not been successful; the skirt was too short infront and higher on one side than on the other, showing too plainly theheavy-soled shoes, which had lost most of their polish in the walkthrough the snow. The ribbon rosettes were fully revealed, and as sheglanced at their reflection she heard the words, "LOOK AT THAT TRAINAND THOSE ROSETTES!" whispered behind her, and saw in the mirror twopretty young women turn away with their handkerchiefs over their mouthsand retreat hurriedly to an alcove. All the feet in the room exceptAriel's were in dainty kid or satin slippers of the color of thedresses from which they glimmered out, and only Ariel wore a train. 

She went away from the mirror and pretended to be busy with a hangingthread in her sleeve. 

She was singularly an alien in the chattering room, although she hadbeen born and lived all her life in the town. Perhaps her positionamong the young ladies may be best defined by the remark, generallycurrent among them, that evening, to the effect that it was "very sweetof Mamie to invite her. " Ariel was not like the others; she was not ofthem, and never had been. Indeed, she did not know them very well. Some of them nodded to her and gave her a word of greeting pleasantly;all of them whispered about her with wonder and suppressed amusement;but none talked to her. They were not unkindly, but they were youngand eager and excited over their own interests, --which were then in the"gentlemen's dressing-room. "

Each of the other girls had been escorted by a youth of the place, and, one by one, joining these escorts in the hall outside the door, theydescended the stairs, until only Ariel was left. She came down aloneafter the first dance had begun, and greeted her young hostess's mothertimidly. Mrs. Pike--a small, frightened-looking woman with a prominentruby necklace--answered her absently, and hurried away to see that theimported waiters did not steal anything. 

Ariel sat in one of the chairs against the wall and watched the dancerswith a smile of eager and benevolent interest. In Canaan no parents, no guardians nor aunts, were haled forth o' nights to duenna thejunketings of youth; Mrs. Pike did not reappear, and Ariel satconspicuously alone; there was nothing else for her to do. It was notan easy matter. 

When the first dance reached an end, Mamie Pike came to her for amoment with a cheery welcome, and was immediately surrounded by acircle of young men and women, flushed with dancing, shouting as wastheir wont, laughing inexplicably over words and phrases andunintelligible mono-syllables, as if they all belonged to a secretsociety and these cries were symbols of things exquisitely humorous, which only they understood. Ariel laughed with them more heartily thanany other, so that she might seem to be of them and as merry as theywere, but almost immediately she found herself outside of the circle, and presently they all whirled away into another dance, and she wasleft alone again. 

So she sat, no one coming near her, through several dances, trying tomaintain the smile of delighted interest upon her face, though she feltthe muscles of her face beginning to ache with their fixedness, hereyes growing hot and glazed. All the other girls were provided withpartners for every dance, with several young men left over, theselatter lounging hilariously together in the doorways. Ariel was carefulnot to glance towards them, but she could not help hating them. Onceor twice between the dances she saw Miss Pike speak appealingly to oneof the superfluous, glancing, at the same time, in her own direction, and Ariel could see, too, that the appeal proved unsuccessful, until atlast Mamie approached her, leading Norbert Flitcroft, partly by thehand, partly by will-power. Norbert was an excessively fat boy, and atthe present moment looked as patient as the blind. But he asked Arielif she was "engaged for the next dance, " and, Mamie having flittedaway, stood disconsolately beside her, waiting for the music to begin. Ariel was grateful for him. 

"I think you must be very good-natured, Mr. Flitcroft, " she said, withan air of raillery. 

"No, I'm not, " he replied, plaintively. "Everybody thinks I am becauseI'm fat, and they expect me to do things they never dream of askinganybody else to do. I'd like to see 'em even ASK 'Gene Bantry to goand do some of the things they get me to do! A person isn'tgood-natured just because he's fat, " he concluded, morbidly, "but hemight as well be!"

"Oh, I meant good-natured, " she returned, with a sprightly laugh, "because you're willing to waltz with me. "

"Oh, well, " he returned, sighing, "that's all right. "

The orchestra flourished into "La Paloma"; he put his arm mournfullyabout her, and taking her right hand with his left, carried her arm outto a rigid right angle, beginning to pump and balance for time. Theymade three false starts and then got away. Ariel danced badly; shehopped and lost the step, but they persevered, bumping against othercouples continually. Circling breathlessly into the next room, theypassed close to a long mirror, in which Ariel saw herself, although ina flash, more bitterly contrasted to the others than in thecheval-glass of the dressing-room. The clump of roses was floppingabout her neck, her crimped hair looked frowzy, and there was somethingterribly wrong about her dress. Suddenly she felt her train to beominously grotesque, as a thing following her in a nightmare. 

A moment later she caught her partner making a burlesque face ofsuffering over her shoulder, and, turning her head quickly, saw forwhose benefit he had constructed it. Eugene Bantry, flying expertly bywith Mamie, was bestowing upon Mr. Flitcroft a condescendinglycommiserative wink. The next instant she tripped in her train and fellto the floor at Eugene's feet, carrying her partner with her. 

There was a shout of laughter. The young hostess stopped Eugene, whowould have gone on, and he had no choice but to stoop to Ariel'sassistance. 

"It seems to be a habit of mine, " she said, laughing loudly. 

She did not appear to see the hand he offered, but got to her feetwithout help and walked quickly away with Norbert, who proceeded tolive up to the character he had given himself. 

"Perhaps we had better not try it again, " she laughed. 

"Well, I should think not, " he returned, with the frankest gloom. Withthe air of conducting her home he took her to the chair against thewall whence he had brought her. There his responsibility for herseemed to cease. "Will you excuse me?" he asked, and there was nodoubt that he felt that he had been given more than his share thatevening, even though he was fat. 

"Yes, indeed. " Her laughter was continuous. "I should think you WOULDbe glad to get rid of me after that. Ha, ha, ha! Poor Mr. Flitcroft, you know you are!"

It was the deadly truth, and the fat one, saying, "Well, if you'll justexcuse me now, " hurried away with a step which grew lighter as thedistance from her increased. Arrived at the haven of a far doorway, hemopped his brow and shook his head grimly in response to frequentrallyings. 

Ariel sat through more dances, interminable dances and intermissions, in that same chair, in which, it began to seem, she was to live out therest of her life. Now and then, if she thought people were looking ather as they passed, she broke into a laugh and nodded slightly, as ifstill amused over her mishap. 

After a long time she rose, and laughing cheerfully to Mr. Flitcroft, who was standing in the doorway and replied with a wan smile, steppedout quickly into the hall, where she almost ran into her great-uncle, Jonas Tabor. He was going towards the big front doors with Judge Pike, having just come out of the latter's library, down the hall. 

Jonas was breathing heavily and was shockingly pale, though his eyeswere very bright. He turned his back upon his grandniece sharply andwent out of the door. Ariel turned from him quite as abruptly andre-entered the room whence she had come. She laughed again to her fatfriend as she passed him, and, still laughing, went towards the fatalchair, when her eyes caught sight of Eugene Bantry and Mamie coming inthrough the window from the porch. Still laughing, she went to thewindow and looked out; the porch seemed deserted and was faintlyilluminated by a few Japanese lanterns. She sprang out, dropped uponthe divan, and burying her face in her hands, cried heart-brokenly. Presently she felt something alive touch her foot, and, her breathcatching with alarm, she started to rise. A thin hand, issuing from ashabby sleeve, had stolen out between two of the green tubs and waspressing upon one of her shoes. 

"'SH!" said Joe. "Don't make a noise!"

His warning was not needed; she had recognized the hand and sleeveinstantly. She dropped back with a low sound which would have beenhysterical if it had been louder, while he raised himself on his armuntil she could see his face dimly, as he peered at her between thepalms. 

"What were you going on about?" he asked, angrily. 

"Nothing, " she answered. "I wasn't. You must go away, and quick. It's too dangerous. If the Judge found you--"

"He won't!"

"Ah, you'd risk anything to see Mamie Pike--"

"What were you crying about?" he interrupted. 

"Nothing, I tell you!" she repeated, the tears not ceasing to gather inher eyes. "I wasn't. "

"I want to know what it was, " he insisted. "Didn't the fools ask you todance? Ah! You needn't tell me. That's it. I've been here for thelast three dances and you weren't in sight till you came to the window. Well, what do you care about that for?"

"I don't!" she answered. "I don't!" Then suddenly, without being ableto prevent it, she sobbed. 

"No, " he said, gently, "I see you don't. And you let yourself be afool because there are a lot of fools in there. "

She gave way, all at once, to a gust of sorrow and bitterness; she bentfar over and caught his hand and laid it against her wet cheek. "Oh, Joe, " she whispered, brokenly, "I think we have such hard lives, youand I! It doesn't seem right--while we're so young! Why can't we belike the others? Why can't we have some of the fun?"

He withdrew his hand, with the embarrassment and shame he would havefelt had she been a boy. "Get out!" he said, feebly. 

She did not seem to notice, but, still stooping, rested her elbows onher knees and her face in her hands. "I try so hard to have fun, to belike the rest, --and it's always a mistake, always, always, always!"She rocked herself, slightly, from side to side. "I am a fool, it'sthe truth, or I wouldn't have come to-night. I want to beattractive--I want to be in things. I want to laugh like they do--"

"To laugh just to laugh, and not because there's something funny?"

"Yes, I do, I do! And to know how to dress and to wear my hair--theremust be some place where you can learn those things. I've never hadany one to show me! Ah! Grandfather said something like that thisafternoon--poor man! We're in the same case. If we only had some oneto show us! It all seems so BLIND, here in Canaan, for him and me! Idon't say it's not my own fault as much as being poor. I've been ahoyden; I don't feel as if I'd learned how to be a girl yet, Joe. It'sonly lately I've cared, but I'm seventeen, Joe, and--andto-day--to-day--I was sent home--and to-night--" She faltered, came toa stop, and her whole body was shaken with sobs. "I hate myself so forcrying--for everything!"

"I'll tell you something, " he whispered, chuckling desperately. "'Genemade me unpack his trunk, and I don't believe he's as great a man atcollege as he is here. I opened one of his books, and some one hadwritten in it, 'Prigamaloo Bantry, the Class Try-To-Be'! He'd nevernoticed, and you ought to have heard him go on! You'd have just died, Ariel--I almost bust wide open! It was a mean trick in me, but Icouldn't help showing it to him. "

Joe's object was obtained. She stopped crying, and, wiping her eyes, smiled faintly. Then she became grave. "You're jealous of Eugene, "she said. 

He considered this for a moment. "Yes, " he answered, thoughtfully, "Iam. But I wouldn't think about him differently on that account. And Iwouldn't talk about him to any one but you. "

"Not even to--" She left the question unfinished. 

"No, " he said, quietly. "Of course not. "

"No? Because it wouldn't be any use?"

"I don't know. I never have a chance to talk to her, anyway. "

"Of course you don't!" Her voice had grown steady. "You say I'm afool. What are you?"

"You needn't worry about me, " he began. "I can take care--"

"'SH!" she whispered, warningly. The music had stopped, a loud clatterof voices and laughter succeeding it. 

"What need to be careful, " Joe assured her, "with all that noise goingon?"

"You must go away, " she said, anxiously. "Oh, please, Joe!"

"Not yet; I want--"

She coughed loudly. Eugene and Mamie Pike had come to the window, withthe evident intention of occupying the veranda, but perceiving Arielengaged with threads in her sleeve, they turned away and disappeared. Other couples looked out from time to time, and finding the solitaryfigure in possession, retreated abruptly to seek stairways and remotecorners for the things they were impelled to say. 

And so Ariel held the porch for three dances and three intermissions, occupying a great part of the time with entreaties that her obdurateand reckless companion should go. When, for the fourth time, the musicsounded, her agitation had so increased that she was visibly trembling. "I can't stand it, Joe, " she said, bending over him. 

"I don't know what would happen if they found you. You've GOT to go!"

"No, I haven't, " he chuckled. "They haven't even distributed thesupper yet!"

"And you take all the chances, " she said, slowly, "just to see her passthat window a few times. "

"What chances?"

"Of what the Judge will do if any one sees you. "

"Nothing; because if any one saw me I'd leave. "

"Please go. "

"Not till--"

"'SH!"

A colored waiter, smiling graciously, came out upon the porch bearing atray of salad, hot oysters, and coffee. Ariel shook her head. 

"I don't want any, " she murmured. 

The waiter turned away in pity and was re-entering the window, when apassionate whisper fell upon his ear as well as upon Ariel's. 

"TAKE IT!"

"Ma'am?" said the waiter. 

"I've changed my mind, " she replied, quickly. The waiter, his elationrestored, gave of his viands with the superfluous bounty loved by hisrace when distributing the product of the wealthy. 

When he had gone, "Give me everything that's hot, " said Joe. "You cankeep the salad. "

"I couldn't eat it or anything else, " she answered, thrusting the platebetween the palms. 

For a time there was silence. From within the house came thecontinuous babble of voices and laughter, the clink of cutlery onchina. The young people spent a long time over their supper. By-and-bythe waiter returned to the veranda, deposited a plate of colored icesupon Ariel's knees with a noble gesture, and departed. 

"No ice for me, " said Joe. 

"Won't you please go now?" she entreated!

"It wouldn't be good manners, " he responded. "They might think I onlycame for supper--"

"Hand me back the things. The waiter might come for them any minute. "

"Not yet. I haven't quite finished. I eat with contemplation, Ariel, because there's more than the mere food and the warmth of it toconsider. There's the pleasure of being entertained by the great MartinPike. Think what a real kindness I'm doing him, too. I increase hisgood deeds and his hospitality without his knowing it or being able tohelp it. Don't you see how I boost his standing with the RecordingAngel? If Lazarus had behaved the way I do, Dives needn't have hadthose worries that came to him in the after-life. "

"Give me the dish and coffee-cup, " she whispered, impatiently. "Suppose the waiter came and had to look for them? Quick!"

"Take them, then. You'll see that jealousy hasn't spoiled myappetite--"

A bottle-shaped figure appeared in the window and she had no time totake the plate and cup which were being pushed through the palm-leaves. She whispered a syllable of warning, and the dishes were hurriedlywithdrawn as Norbert Flitcroft, wearing a solemn expression of injury, came out upon the veranda. 

He halted suddenly. "What's that?" he asked, with suspicion. 

"Nothing, " answered Ariel, sharply. "Where?"

"Behind those palms. "

"Probably your own shadow, " she laughed; "or it might have been adraught moving the leaves. "

He did not seem satisfied, but stared hard at the spot where the disheshad disappeared, meantime edging back cautiously nearer the window. 

"They want you, " he said, after a pause. "Some one's come for you. "

"Oh, is grandfather waiting?" She rose, at the same time letting herhandkerchief fall. She stooped to pick it up, with her face away fromNorbert and towards the palms, whispering tremulously, but withpassionate urgency, "Please GO!"

"It isn't your grandfather that has come for you, " said the fat one, slowly. "It is old Eskew Arp. Something's happened. "

She looked at him for a moment, beginning to tremble violently, hereyes growing wide with fright. 

"Is my grandfather--is he sick?"

"You better go and see. Old Eskew's waiting in the hall. He'll tellyou. "

She was by him and through the window instantly. Norbert did not followher; he remained for several moments looking earnestly at the palms;then he stepped through the window and beckoned to a youth who waslounging in the doorway across the room. 

"There's somebody hiding behind those plants, " he whispered, when hisfriend reached him. "Go and tell Judge Pike to send some of theniggers to watch outside the porch, so that he doesn't get away. Thentell him to get his revolver and come here. "

Meanwhile Ariel had found Mr. Arp waiting in the hall, talking in a lowvoice to Mrs. Pike. 

"Your grandfather's all right, " he told the frightened girl, quickly. "He sent me for you, that's all. Just hurry and get your things. "

She was with him again in a moment, and seizing the old man's arm, hurried him down the steps and toward the street almost at a run. 

"You're not telling me the truth, " she said. "You're not telling me thetruth!"

"Nothing has happened to Roger, " panted Mr. Arp. "Nothing to mind, Imean. Here! We're going this way, not that. " They had come to thegate, and as she turned to the right he pulled her round sharply to theleft. "We're not going to your house. "

"Where are we going?"

"We're going to your uncle Jonas's. "

"Why?" she cried, in supreme astonishment. "What do you want to take methere for? Don't you know that he's stopped speaking to me?"

"Yes, " said the old man, grimly, with something of the look he worewhen delivering a clincher at the "National House, "--"he's stoppedspeaking to everybody. "

V

BEAVER BEACH

The Canaan Daily Tocsin of the following morning "ventured theassertion" upon its front page that "the scene at the Pike Mansion wasone of unalloyed festivity, music, and mirth; a fairy bower of airyfigures wafting here and there to the throb of waltz-strains; averitable Temple of Terpsichore, shining forth with a myriad of lights, which, together with the generous profusion of floral decorations andthe mingled delights afforded by Minds's orchestra of Indianapolis andCaterer Jones of Chicago, was in all likelihood never heretoforesurpassed in elegance in our city. .. . Only one incident, " the Tocsinremarked, "marred an otherwise perfect occasion, and out of regard forthe culprit's family connections, which are prominent in our socialworld, we withhold his name. Suffice it to say that through thevigilance of Mr. Norbert Flitcroft, grandson of Colonel A. A. Flitcroft, who proved himself a thorough Lecoq (the celebrated Frenchdetective), the rascal was seized and recognized. Mr. Flitcroft, having discovered him in hiding, had a cordon of waiters drawn uparound his hiding-place, which was the charmingly decorated side piazzaof the Pike Mansion, and sent for Judge Pike, who came upon theintruder by surprise. He evaded the Judge's indignant grasp, butreceived a well-merited blow over the head from a poker which the Judgehad concealed about his person while pretending to approach thehiding-place casually. Attracted to the scene by the cries of Mr. Flitcroft, who, standing behind Judge Pike, accidentally received ablow from the same weapon, all the guests of the evening sprang to viewthe scene, only to behold the culprit leap through a crevice betweenthe strips of canvas which enclosed the piazza. He was seized by thecolored coachman of the Mansion, Sam Warden, and immediately pouncedupon by the cordon of Caterer Jones's dusky assistants from Chicago, who were in ambush outside. Unfortunately, after a brief struggle hemanaged to trip Warden, and, the others stumbling upon the prostratebody of the latter, to make his escape in the darkness. 

"It is not believed by many that his intention was burglary, thoughwhat his designs were can only be left to conjecture, as he is farbeyond the age when boys perform such actions out of a sense ofmischief. He had evidently occupied his hiding-place some time, and anidea of his coolness may be obtained from his having procured and eatena full meal through an unknown source. Judge Pike is justly incensed, and swears that he will prosecute him on this and other charges as soonas he can be found. Much sympathy is felt for the culprit's family, who feel his shame most keenly, but who, though sorrowing over theoccurrence, declare that they have put up with his derelictions longenough, and will do nothing to step between him and the Judge'srighteous indignation. "

The Pike Mansion, "scene of festivity, music, and mirth" (not quite sounalloyed, after all, the stricken Flitcroft keeping his room for aweek under medical supervision), had not been the only bower of thedance in Canaan that evening: another Temple of Terpsichore had shoneforth with lights, though of these there were not quite a myriad. Thefestivities they illumined obtained no mention in the paper, nor didthey who trod the measures in this second temple exhibit any sense ofinjury because of the Tocsin's omission. Nay, they were of that class, shy without being bashful, exclusive yet not proud, which shunspublicity with a single-heartedness almost unique in our republic, courting observation neither in the prosecution of their professionsnor in the pursuit of happiness. 

Not quite a mile above the northernmost of the factories on thewater-front, there projected into the river, near the end of thecrescent bend above the town, a long pier, relic of steamboat days, rotting now, and many years fallen from its maritime uses. Aboutmidway of its length stood a huge, crazy shed, long ago utilized as afreight storeroom. This had been patched and propped, and adangerous-looking veranda attached to it, over-hanging the water. Above the doorway was placed a sign whereon might be read the words, "Beaver Beach, Mike's Place. " The shore end of the pier was so ruinousthat passage was offered by a single row of planks, which presented anappearance so temporary, as well as insecure, that one might haveguessed their office to be something in the nature of a drawbridge. From these a narrow path ran through a marsh, left by the recedingriver, to a country road of desolate appearance. Here there was arough enclosure, or corral, with some tumble-down sheds which affordedshelter, on the night of Joseph Louden's disgrace, for a number ofshaggy teams attached to those decrepit and musty vehicles knownpicturesquely and accurately as Night-Hawks. The presence of suchquestionable shapes in the corral indicated that the dance was on atBeaver Beach, Mike's Place, as surely as the short line of cabs andfamily carriages on upper Main Street made it known that gayety was theorder of the night at the Pike Mansion. But among other differenceswas this, that at the hour when the guests of the latter were leaving, those seeking the hospitalities of Beaver Beach had just begun toarrive. 

By three o'clock, however, joy at Mike's Place had become beyondquestion unconfined, and the tokens of it were audible for a longdistance in all directions. If, however, there is no sound where noear hears, silence rested upon the country-side until an hour later. Then a lonely figure came shivering from the direction of the town, notby the road, but slinking through the snow upon the frozen river. Itcame slowly, as though very tired, and cautiously, too, often turningits head to look behind. Finally it reached the pier, and stopped asif to listen. 

Within the house above, a piano of evil life was being beaten to deathfor its sins and clamoring its last cries horribly. The old shedrattled in every part with the thud of many heavy feet, and trembledwith the shock of noise--an incessant roar of men's voices, punctuatedwith women's screams. Then the riot quieted somewhat; there was aclapping of hands, and a violin began to squeak measures intended to beOriental. The next moment the listener scrambled up one of the rottingpiles and stood upon the veranda. A shaft of red light through abroken shutter struck across the figure above the shoulders, revealinga bloody handkerchief clumsily knotted about the head, and, beneath it, the face of Joe Louden. 

He went to the broken shutter and looked in. Around the blackened wallsof the room stood a bleared mob, applausively watching, through a fogof smoke, the contortions of an old woman in a red calico wrapper, whowas dancing in the centre of the floor. The fiddler--a rubicund personevidently not suffering from any great depression of spirit through thecircumstance of being "out on bail, " as he was, to Joe's intimateknowledge--sat astride a barrel, resting his instrument upon the foamytap thereof, and playing somewhat after the manner of a 'cellist; in nowise incommoded by the fact that a tall man (known to a few friends asan expert in the porch-climbing line) was sleeping on his shoulder, while another gentleman (who had prevented many cases of typhoid byremoving old plumbing from houses) lay on the floor at the musician'sfeet and endeavored to assist him by plucking the strings of the fiddle. 

Joe opened the door and went in. All of the merry company (who wereable) turned sharply toward the door as it opened; then, recognizingthe new-comer, turned again to watch the old woman. One or two nearestthe door asked the boy, without great curiosity, what had happened tohis head. He merely shook it faintly in reply, and crossed the room toan open hallway beyond. At the end of this he came to a frowzy bedroom, the door of which stood ajar. Seated at a deal table, and working by adim lamp with a broken chimney, a close-cropped, red-bearded, red-haired man in his shirt-sleeves was jabbing gloomily at a column offigures scrawled in a dirty ledger. He looked up as Joe appeared inthe doorway, and his eyes showed a slight surprise. 

"I never thought ye had the temper to git somebody to split yer head, "said he. "Where'd ye collect it?"

"Nowhere, " Joe answered, dropping weakly on the bed. "It doesn'tamount to anything. "

"Well, I'll take just a look fer myself, " said the red-bearded man, rising. "And I've no objection to not knowin' how ye come by it. Ye've always been the great one fer keepin' yer mysteries to yerself. "

He unwound the handkerchief and removed it from Joe's head gently. "WHEE!" he cried, as a long gash was exposed over the forehead. "Ihope ye left a mark somewhere to pay a little on the score o' this!"

Joe chuckled and dropped dizzily back upon the pillow. "There wasanother who got something like it, " he gasped, feebly; "and, oh, Mike, I wish you could have heard him going on! Perhaps you did--it was onlythree miles from here. "

"Nothing I'd liked better!" said the other, bringing a basin of clearwater from a stand in the corner. "It's a beautiful thing to hear aman holler when he gits a grand one like ye're wearing to-night. "

He bathed the wound gently, and hurrying from the room, returnedimmediately with a small jug of vinegar. Wetting a rag with thistender fluid, he applied it to Joe's head, speaking soothingly thewhile. 

"Nothing in the world like a bit o' good cider vinegar to keep off thefesterin'. It may seem a trifle scratchy fer the moment, but itassassinates the blood-p'ison. There ye go! It's the fine thing ferye, Joe--what are ye squirmin' about?"

"I'm only enjoying it, " the boy answered, writhing as the vinegarworked into the gash. "Don't you mind my laughing to myself. "

"Ye're a good one, Joe!" said the other, continuing his ministrations. "I wisht, after all, ye felt like makin' me known to what's thetrouble. There's some of us would be glad to take it up fer ye, and--"

"No, no; it's all right. I was somewhere I had no business to be, andI got caught. "

"Who caught ye?"

"First, some nice white people"--Joe smiled his distorted smile--"andthen a low-down black man helped me to get away as soon as he saw whoit was. He's a friend of mine, and he fell down and tripped up thepursuit. "

"I always knew ye'd git into large trouble some day. " The red-beardedman tore a strip from an old towel and began to bandage the boy's headwith an accustomed hand. "Yer taste fer excitement has been growin' onye every minute of the four years I've known ye. "

"Excitement!" echoed Joe, painfully blinking at his friend. "Do youthink I'm hunting excitement?"

"Be hanged to ye!" said the red-bearded man. "Can't I say a teasingword without gittin' called to order fer it? I know ye, my boy, aswell as ye know yerself. Ye're a queer one. Ye're one of the few thatmust know all sides of the world--and can't content themselves withbein' respectable! Ye haven't sunk to 'low life' because ye're lowyourself, but ye'll never git a damned one o' the respectable tobelieve it. There's a few others like ye in the wide world, and I'veseen one or two of 'em. I've been all over, steeple-chasin', sailorman, soldier, pedler, and in the PO-lice; I've pulled the GrandNational in Paris, and I've been handcuffed in Hong-Kong; I've seen allthe few kinds of women there is on earth and the many kinds of men. Yer own kind is the one I've seen the fewest of, but I knew ye belongedto it the first time I laid eyes on ye!" He paused, then continuedwith conviction: "Ye'll come to no good, either, fer yerself, yet noone can say ye haven't the talents. Ye've helped many of the boys outof a bad hole with a word of advice around the courts and the jail. Who knows but ye'd be a great lawyer if ye kept on?"

Young people usually like to discuss themselves under anyconditions--hence the rewards of palmistry, --but Joe's comment on thisharangue was not so responsive as might have been expected. "I've gotseven dollars, " he said, "and I'll leave the clothes I've got on. Canyou fix me up with something different?"

"Aha!" cried the red-bearded man. "Then ye ARE in trouble! I thoughtit 'd come to ye some day! Have ye been dinnymitin' Martin Pike?"

"See what you can do, " said Joe. "I want to wait here until daybreak. "

"Lie down, then, " interrupted the other. "And fergit the hullabaloo inthe throne-room beyond. "

"I can easily do that"--Joe stretched himself upon the bed, --"I've gotso many other things to remember. "

"I'll have the things fer ye, and I'll let ye know I have no use ferseven dollars, " returned the red-bearded man, crossly. "What are yesniffin' fer?"

"I'm thinking of the poor fellow that got the mate to this, " said Joe, touching the bandage. "I can't help crying when I think they may haveused vinegar on his head, too. "

"Git to sleep if ye can!" exclaimed the Samaritan, as a hideous burstof noise came from the dance-room, where some one seemed to be breakinga chair upon an acquaintance. "I'll go out and regulate the boys abit. " He turned down the lamp, fumbled in his hip-pocket, and went tothe door. 

"Don't forget, " Joe called after him. 

"Go to sleep, " said the red-bearded man, his hand on the door-knob. "That is, go to thinkin', fer ye won't sleep; ye're not the kind. Butthink easy; I'll have the things fer ye. It's a matter of pride withme that I always knew ye'd come to trouble. "

VI

YE'LL TAK' THE HIGH ROAD AND I'LL TAK' THE LOW ROAD

The day broke with a scream of wind out of the prairies and suchcloudbursts of snow that Joe could see neither bank of the river as hemade his way down the big bend of ice. The wind struck so bitterly thatnow and then he stopped and, panting and gasping, leaned his weightagainst it. The snow on the ground was caught up and flew like seaspume in a hurricane; it swirled about him, joining the flakes in theair, so that it seemed to be snowing from the ground upward as much asfrom the sky downward. Fierce as it was, hard as it was to fightthrough, snow from the earth, snow from the sky, Joe was grateful forit, feeling that it veiled him, making him safer, though he trustedsomewhat the change of costume he had effected at Beaver Beach. Arough, workman's cap was pulled down over his ears and eyebrows; aknitted comforter was wound about the lower part of his face; under aragged overcoat he wore blue overalls and rubber boots; and in one ofhis red-mittened hands he swung a tin dinner-bucket. 

When he reached the nearest of the factories he heard the exhaust ofits engines long before he could see the building, so blinding was thedrift. Here he struck inland from the river, and, skirting the edges ofthe town, made his way by unfrequented streets and alleys, bearing inthe general direction of upper Main Street, to find himself at last, almost exhausted, in the alley behind the Pike Mansion. There hepaused, leaning heavily against a board fence and gazing at the vaguelyoutlined gray plane which was all that could be made of the housethrough the blizzard. He had often, very often, stood in this sameplace at night, and there was one window (Mrs. Pike's) which he hadguessed to be Mamie's. 

The storm was so thick that he could not see this window now, but helooked a long time through the thickness at that part of the gray planewhere he knew it was. Then his lips parted. 

"Good-bye, Mamie, " he said, softly. "Goodbye, Mamie. "

He bent his body against the wind and went on, still keeping to theback ways, until he came to the alley which passed behind his own home, where, however, he paused only for a moment to make a quick survey ofthe premises. A glance satisfied him; he ran to the next fence, hoisted himself wearily over it, and dropped into Roger Tabor's backyard. 

He took shelter from the wind for a moment or two, leaning against thefence, breathing heavily; then he stumbled on across the obliteratedpaths of a vegetable-garden until he reached the house, and beginningwith the kitchen, began to make the circuit of the windows, peeringcautiously into each as he went, ready to tap on the pane should hecatch a glimpse of Ariel, and prepared to run if he stumbled upon hergrandfather. But the place seemed empty: he had made his reconnaisanceapparently in vain, and was on the point of going away, when he heardthe click of the front gate and saw Ariel coming towards him, her oldwater-proof cloak about her head and shoulders, the patched, scant, faded skirt, which he knew so well, blowing about her tumultuously. Atthe sound of the gate he had crouched close against the side of thehouse, but she saw him at once. 

She stopped abruptly, and throwing the water-proof back from her head, looked at him through the driven fog of snow. One of her hands wasstretched towards him involuntarily, and it was in that attitude thathe long remembered her: standing in the drift which had piled upagainst the gate almost knee-deep, the shabby skirt and the blackwater-proof flapping like torn sails, one hand out-stretched like thatof a figure in a tableau, her brown face with its thin features mottledwith cold and unlovely, her startled eyes fixed on him with a strange, wild tenderness that held something of the laughter of wholecompanionship in it mingling with a loyalty and championship that wasalmost ferocious--she looked an Undine of the snow. 

Suddenly she ran to him, still keeping her hand out-stretched until ittouched his own. 

"How did you know me?" he said. 

"Know you!" was all the answer she made to that question. "Come intothe house. I've got some coffee on the stove for you. I've been upand down the street waiting for you ever since it began to get light. "

"Your grandfather won't--"

"He's at Uncle Jonas's; he won't be back till noon. There's no onehere. "

She led him to the front-door, where he stamped and shook himself; hewas snow from head to foot. 

"I'm running away from the good Gomorrah, " he said, "but I've stoppedto look back, and I'm a pretty white pillar. "

"I know where you stopped to look back, " she answered, brushing himheartily with her red hands. "You came in the alley way. It wasMamie's window. "

He did not reply, and the only visible token that he had anyconsciousness of this clairvoyance of hers was a slight lift of hishigher eyebrow. She wasted no time in getting him to the kitchen, where, when she had removed his overcoat, she placed him in a chair, unwound the comforter, and, as carefully as a nurse, lifted the capfrom his injured head. When the strip of towel was disclosed she stoodquite still for a moment with the cap in her hand; then with a brokenlittle cry she stooped and kissed a lock of his hair, which escaped, discolored, beneath the bandage. 

"Stop that!" he commanded, horribly embarrassed. 

"Oh, Joe, " she cried, "I knew! I knew it was there--but to SEE it!And it's my fault for leaving you--I HAD to go or I wouldn't have--I--"

"Where'd you hear about it?" he asked, shortly. 

"I haven't been to bed, " she answered. "Grandfather and I were up allnight at Uncle Jonas's, and Colonel Flitcroft came about two o'clock, and he told us. "

"Did he tell you about Norbert?"

"Yes--a great deal. " She poured coffee into a cup from a pot on thestove, brought it to him, then placing some thin slices of bread upon agridiron, began to toast them over the hot coals. "The Colonel saidthat Norbert thought he wouldn't get well, " she concluded; "and Mr. Arpsaid Norbert was the kind that never die, and they had quite anargument. "

"What were you doing at Jonas Tabor's?" asked Joe, drinking his coffeewith a brightening eye. 

"We were sent for, " she answered. 

"What for?"

She toasted the bread attentively without replying, and when shedecided that it was brown enough, piled it on a warm plate. This shebrought to him, and kneeling in front of him, her elbow on his knee, offered for his consideration, looking steadfastly up at his eyes. Hebegan to eat ravenously. 

"What for?" he repeated. "I didn't suppose Jonas would let you come inhis house. Was he sick?"

"Joe, " she said, quietly, disregarding his questions---"Joe, have youGOT to run away?"

"Yes, I've got to, " he answered. 

"Would you have to go to prison if you stayed?" She asked this with abreathless tensity. 

"I'm not going to beg father to help me out, " he said, determinedly. "He said he wouldn't, and he'll be spared the chance. He won't mindthat; nobody will care! Nobody! What does anybody care what _I_ do!"

"Now you're thinking of Mamie!" she cried. "I can always tell. Whenever you don't talk naturally you're thinking of her!"

He poured down the last of the coffee, growing red to the tips of hisears. "Ariel, " he said, "if I ever come back--"

"Wait, " she interrupted. "Would you have to go to prison right away ifthey caught you?"

"Oh, it isn't that, " he laughed, sadly. "But I'm going to clear out. I'm not going to take any chances. I want to see other parts of theworld, other kinds of people. I might have gone, anyhow, soon, even ifit hadn't been for last night. Don't you ever feel that way?"

"You know I do, " she said. "I've told you--how often! But, Joe, Joe, --you haven't any MONEY! You've got to have money to LIVE!"

"You needn't worry about that, " returned the master of seven dollars, genially. "I've saved enough to take care of me for a LONG time. "

"Joe, PLEASE! I know it isn't so. If you could wait just a littlewhile--only a few weeks, --only a FEW, Joe--"

"What for?"

"I could let you have all you want. It would be such a beautiful thingfor me, Joe. Oh, I know how you'd feel; you wouldn't even let me giveyou that dollar I found in the street last year; but this would be onlylending it to you, and you could pay me back sometime--"

"Ariel!" he exclaimed, and, setting his empty cup upon the floor, tookher by the shoulders and shook her till the empty plate which had heldthe toast dropped from her hand and broke into fragments. "You've beenreading the Arabian Nights!"

"No, no, " she cried, vehemently. "Grandfather would give me anything. He'll give me all the money I ask for!"

"Money!" said Joe. "Which of us is wandering? MONEY? Roger Tabor giveyou MONEY?"

"Not for a while. A great many things have to be settled first. "

"What things?"

"Joe, " she asked, earnestly, "do you think it's bad of me not to feelthings I OUGHT to feel?"

"No. "

"Then I'm glad, " she said, and something in the way she spoke made himstart with pain, remembering the same words, spoken in the same tone, by another voice, the night before on the veranda. "I'm glad, Joe, because I seemed all wrong to myself. Uncle Jonas died last night, andI haven't been able to get sorry. Perhaps it's because I've been sofrightened about you, but I think not, for I wasn't sorry even beforeColonel Flitcroft told me about you. "

"Jonas Tabor dead!" said Joe. "Why, I saw him on the street yesterday!"

"Yes, and I saw him just before I came out on the porch where you were. He was there in the hall; he and Judge Pike had been having a longtalk; they'd been in some speculations together, and it had all turnedout well. It's very strange, but they say now that Uncle Jonas's heartwas weak--he was an old man, you know, almost eighty, --and he'd beenvery anxious about his money. The Judge had persuaded him to risk it;and the shock of finding that he'd made a great deal suddenly--"

"I've heard he'd had that same shock before, " said Joe, "when he soldout to your father. "

"Yes, but this was different, grandfather says. He told me it was inone of those big risky businesses that Judge Pike likes to go into. And last night it was all finished, the strain was over, and UncleJonas started home. His house is only a little way from the Pikes', you know; but he dropped down in the snow at his own gate, and somepeople who were going by saw him fall. He was dead before grandfathergot there. "

"I can't be sorry, " said Joe, slowly. 

"Neither can I. That's the dreadful part of it! They say he hadn'tmade a will, that though he was sharper than anybody else in the wholeworld about any other matter of business, that was the one thing he putoff. And we're all the kin he had in the world, grandfather and I. And they say"--her voice sank to a whisper of excitement--"they say hewas richer than anybody knew, and that this last business with JudgePike, the very thing that killed him--something about grain--made himfive times richer than before!"

She put her hand on the boy's arm, and he let it remain there. Hereyes still sought his with a tremulous appeal. 

"God bless you, Ariel!" he said. "It's going to be a great thing foryou. "

"Yes. Yes, it is. " The tears came suddenly to her eyes. "I wasfoolish last night, but there had been such a long time of WANTINGthings; and now--and now grandfather and I can go--"

"You're going, too!" Joe chuckled. 

"It's heartless, I suppose, but I've settled it! We're going--"

"_I_ know, " he cried. "You've told me a thousand times what HE'Ssaid--ten times a thousand. You're going to Paris!"

"Paris! Yes, that's it. To Paris, where he can see at last how thegreat ones have painted, --where the others can show him! To Paris, where we can study together, where he can learn how to put the pictureshe sees upon canvas, and where I--"

"Go on, " Joe encouraged her. "I want to hear you say it. You don'tmean that you're going to study painting; you mean that you're going tolearn how to make such fellows as Eugene ask you to dance. Go aheadand SAY it!"

"Yes--to learn how to DRESS!" she said. 

Joe was silent for a moment. Then he rose and took the ragged overcoatfrom the back of his chair. "Where's that muffler?" he asked. 

She brought it from where she had placed it to dry, behind the stove. 

"Joe, " she said, huskily, "can't you wait till--"

"Till the estate is settled and you can coax your grandfather to--"

"No, no! But you could go with us. "

"To Paris?"

"He would take you as his secretary. "

"Aha!" Joe's voice rang out gayly as he rose, refreshed by the coffee, toast, and warmth she had given him. "You've been story-reading, Ariel, like Eugene! 'Secretary'!"

"Please, Joe!"

"Where's my tin dinner-pail?" He found it himself upon the table wherehe had set it down. "I'm going to earn a dishonest living, " he went on. "I have an engagement to take a freight at a water-tank that's a friendof mine, half a mile south of the yards. Thank God, I'm going to getaway from Canaan!"

"Wait, Joe!" She caught at his sleeve. "I want you to--"

He had swung out of the room and was already at the front-door. Shefollowed him closely. 

"Good-bye, Ariel!"

"No, no! WAIT, Joe!"

He took her right hand in his own, and gave it a manly shake. "It'sall right, " he said. 

He threw open the door and stepped out, but she sought to detain him. "Oh, have you GOT to go?" she cried. 

"Don't you ever worry about me. " He bent his head to the storm as hesprang down the steps, and snow-wreaths swirled between them. 

He disappeared in a white whirlwind. 

She stood for several minutes shivering in the doorway. Then it cameto her that she would not know where to write to him. She ran down tothe gate and through it. Already the blizzard had covered hisfootprints. 

VII

GIVE A DOG A BAD NAME

The passing of Joseph from Canaan was complete. It was an evanishmentfor which there was neither sackcloth nor surprise; and though therecame no news of him it cannot be said that Canaan did not hear of him, for surely it could hear itself talk. The death of Jonas Tabor andyoung Louden's crime and flight incited high doings in the "NationalHouse" windows; many days the sages lingered with the broken meats ofmorals left over from the banquet of gossip. But, after all, it iswith the ladies of a community that reputations finally rest, and thematrons of Canaan had long ago made Joe's exceedingly uncertain. Nowthey made it certain. 

They did not fail of assistance. The most powerful influence in thetown was ponderously corroborative: Martin Pike, who stood for all thatwas respectable and financial, who passed the plate o' Sundays, whoheld the fortunes of the town in his left hand, who was trustee for thewidow and orphan, --Martin Pike, patron of all worthy charities, courtedby ministers, feared by the wicked and idle, revered by thegood, --Judge Martin Pike never referred to the runaway save in theaccents of an august doomster. His testimony settled it. 

In time the precise nature of the fugitive's sins was distorted inreport and grew vague; it was recalled that he had done dread things;he became a tradition, a legend, and a warning to the young; a Richardin the bush to frighten colts. He was preached at boys caught playingmarbles "for keeps": "Do you want to grow up like Joe Louden?" Thevery name became a darkling threat, and children of the town would haverun had one called suddenly, "HERE COMES JOE LOUDEN!" Thus does theevil men do live after them, and the ill-fame of the unrighteousincrease when they are sped!

Very little of Joseph's adventures and occupations during the time ofhis wandering is revealed to us; he always had an unwilling memory forpain and was not afterwards wont to speak of those years which cut thehard lines in his face. The first account of him to reach Canaan cameas directly to the windows of the "National House" as Mr. Arp, hastening thither from the station, satchel in hand, could bring it. 

This was on a September morning, two years after the flight, and Eskew, it appears, had been to the State Fair and had beheld many thingsstrangely affirming his constant testimony that this unhappy worldincreaseth in sin; strangest of all, his meeting with our vagrantscalawag of Canaan. "Not a BLAMEBIT of doubt about it, " declared Eskewto the incredulous conclave. "There was that Joe, and nobody else, stuck up in a little box outside a tent at the Fair Grounds, andsellin' tickets to see the Spotted Wild Boy!" Yes, it was Joe Louden!Think you, Mr. Arp could forget that face, those crooked eyebrows? HadEskew tested the recognition? Had he spoken with the outcast? Had henot! Ay, but with such peculiar result that the battle of words amongthe sages began with a true onset of the regulars; for, according toEskew's narrative, when he had delivered grimly at the boy this charge, "I know you--YOU'RE JOE LOUDEN!" the extraordinary reply had been madepromptly and without change of countenance: "POSITIVELY NO FREE SEATS!"

On this, the house divided, one party maintaining that Joe had thusendeavored to evade recognition, the other (to the embitterment of Mr. Arp) that the reply was a distinct admission of identity and at thesame time a refusal to grant any favors on the score of pastacquaintanceship. 

Goaded by inquiries, Mr. Arp, who had little desire to recall suchwaste of silver, admitted more than he had intended: that he hadpurchased a ticket and gone in to see the Spotted Wild Boy, halting inhis description of this marvel with the unsatisfactory and acridstatement that the Wild Boy was "simply SPOTTED, "--and the stung query, "I suppose you know what a spot IS, Squire?" When he came out of thetent he had narrowly examined the ticket-seller, --who seemed unaware ofhis scrutiny, and, when not engaged with his tickets, applied himselfto a dirty law-looking book. It was Joseph Louden, reasserted Eskew, alittle taller, a little paler, incredibly shabby and miraculously thin. If there were any doubt left, his forehead was somewhat disfigured bythe scar of an old wound--such as might have been caused by a bluntinstrument in the nature of a poker. 

"What's the matter with YOU?" Mr. Arp whirled upon Uncle Joe Davey, whowas enjoying himself by repeating at intervals the unreasonable words, "Couldn't of be'n Joe, " without any explanation. "Why couldn't it?"shouted Eskew. "It was! Do you think my eyes are as fur gone as yours?I saw him, I tell you! The same ornery Joe Louden, run away andsellin' tickets for a side-show. He wasn't even the boss of it; themanager was about the meanest-lookin' human I ever saw--and most humanslook mighty mean, accordin' to my way of thinkin'! Riffraff of theriffraff are his friends now, same as they were here. Weeds! and HE'Sa weed, always was and always will be! Him and his kind ain't any morethan jimpsons; overrun everything if you give 'em a chance. Devil-flowers! They have to be hoed out and scattered--even then, likeas not, they'll come back next year and ruin your plantin' once more. That boy Joe 'll turn up here again some day; you'll see if he don't. He's a seed of trouble and iniquity, and anything of that kind is sureto come back to Canaan!"

Mr. Arp stuck to his prediction for several months; then he began towaver and evade. By the end of the second year following its firstutterance, he had formed the habit of denying that he had ever made itat all, and, finally having come to believe with all his heart that theprophecy had been deliberately foisted upon him and put in his mouth bySquire Buckalew, became so sore upon the subject that even the hardiestdared not refer to it in his presence. 

Eskew's story of the ticket-seller was the only news of Joe Louden thatcame to Canaan during seven years. Another citizen of the townencountered the wanderer, however, but under circumstances sosusceptible to misconception that, in a moment of illumination, hedecided to let the matter rest in a golden silence. This was Mr. Bantry. 

Having elected an elaborate course in the Arts, at the University whichwas of his possessions, what more natural than that Eugene should seekthe Metropolis for the short Easter vacation of his Senior year, inorder that his perusal of the Masters should be uninterrupted? But itwas his misfortune to find the Metropolitan Museum less interestingthan some intricate phases of the gayety of New York--phases verydifficult to understand without elaborate study and a series ofexperiments which the discreetly selfish permit others to make forthem. Briefly, Eugene found himself dancing, one night, with a youngperson in a big hat, at the "Straw-Cellar, " a crowded hall, down verydeep in the town and not at all the place for Eugene. 

Acute crises are to be expected at the "Straw-Cellar, " and Eugene wasthe only one present who was thoroughly surprised when that of thisnight arrived, though all of the merrymakers were frightened when theyperceived its extent. There is no need to detail the catastrophe. Itcame suddenly, and the knife did not flash. Sick and thinking ofhimself, Eugene stood staring at the figure lying before him upon thereddening floor. A rabble fought with the quick policemen at thedoors, and then the lights went out, extinguished by the proprietor, living up to his reputation for always being thoughtful of his patrons. The place had been a nightmare; it became a black impossibility. Eugenestaggered to one of the open windows, from the sill of which a man hadjust leaped. 

"Don't jump, " said a voice close to his ear. "That fellow broke hisleg, I think, and they caught him, anyway, as soon as he struck thepavement. It's a big raid. Come this way. "

A light hand fell upon his arm and he followed its leading, blindly, tofind himself pushed through a narrow doorway and down a flight oftricky, wooden steps, at the foot of which, silhouetted against astreet light, a tall policeman was on guard. He laid masterful hands onEugene. 

"'SH, Mack!" whispered a cautious voice from the stairway. "That's afriend of mine and not one of those you need. He's only a student andscared to death. "

"Hurry, " said the policeman, under his breath, twisting Eugene sharplyby him into the street; after which he stormed vehemently: "On yerway, both of ye! Move on up the street! Don't be tryin' to poke yerheads in here! Ye'd be more anxious to git out, once ye got in, I tellye!"

A sob of relief came from Bantry as he gained the next corner, theslight figure of his conductor at his side. "You'd better not go toplaces like the 'Straw-Cellar, '" said the latter, gravely. "I'd beenwatching you for an hour. You were dancing with the girl who did thecutting. "

Eugene leaned against a wall, faint, one arm across his face. He wastoo ill to see, or care, who it was that had saved him. "I never sawher before, " he babbled, incoherently, "never, never, never! I thoughtshe looked handsome, and asked her if she'd dance with me. Then I sawshe seemed queer--and wild, and she kept guiding and pushing as wedanced until we were near that man--and then she--then it was alldone--before--"

"Yes, " said the other; "she's been threatening to do it for a longtime. Jealous. Mighty good sort of a girl, though, in lots of ways. Only yesterday I talked with her and almost thought I'd calmed her outof it. But you can't tell with some women. They'll brighten up andtalk straight and seem sensible, one minute, and promise to behave, andmean it too, and the next, there they go, making a scene, cuttingsomebody or killing themselves! You can't count on them. But that'snot to the point, exactly, I expect. You'd better keep away from the'Straw-Cellar. ' If you'd been caught with the rest you'd have had ahard time, and they'd have found out your real name, too, because it'spretty serious on account of your dancing with her when she did it, andthe Canaan papers would have got hold of it and you wouldn't be invitedto Judge Pike's any more, Eugene. "

Eugene dropped his arm from his eyes and stared into the face of hisstep-brother. 

"Joe Louden!" he gasped. 

"I'll never tell, " said Joe. "You'd better keep out of all this sort. You don't understand it, and you don't--you don't do it because youcare. " He smiled wanly, his odd distorted smile of friendliness. "Whenyou go back you might tell father I'm all right. I'm working through alaw-school here--and remember me to Norbert Flitcroft, " he finished, with a chuckle. 

Eugene covered his eyes again and groaned. 

"It's all right, " Joe assured him. "You're as safe as if it had neverhappened. And I expect"--he went on, thoughtfully--"I expect, maybe, you'd prefer NOT to say you'd seen me, when you go back to Canaan. Well, that's all right. I don't suppose father will be asking afterme--exactly. "

"No, he doesn't, " said Eugene, still white and shaking. "Don't standtalking. I'm sick. "

"Of course, " returned Joe. "But there's one thing I would like to askyou--"

"Your father's health is perfect, I believe. "

"It--it--it was something else, " Joe stammered, pitifully. "Are theyall--are they all--all right at--at Judge Pike's?"

"Quite!" Eugene replied, sharply. "Are you going to get me away fromhere? I'm sick, I tell you!"

"This street, " said Joe, and cheerfully led the way. 

Five minutes later the two had parted, and Joe leaned against a cheaprestaurant sign-board, drearily staring after the lamps of the gypsynight-cab he had found for his step-brother. Eugene had not offered toshare the vehicle with him, had not even replied to his good-night. 

And Joe himself had neglected to do something he might well have done:he had not asked Eugene for news of Ariel Tabor. It will not justifyhim entirely to suppose that he assumed that her grandfather and shehad left Canaan never to return, and therefore Eugene knew nothing ofher; no such explanation serves Joe for his neglect, for the fair truthis that he had not thought of her. She had been a sort of playmate, before his flight, a friend taken for granted, about whom he hadconsciously thought little more than he thought about himself--andeasily forgotten. Not forgotten in the sense that she had passed outof his memory, but forgotten none the less; she had never had a placein his imaginings, and so it befell that when he no longer saw her fromday to day, she had gone from his thoughts altogether. 

VIII

A BAD PENNY TURNS UP

Eugene did not inform Canaan, nor any inhabitant, of his adventure of"Straw-Cellar, " nor did any hear of his meeting with his step-brother;and after Mr. Arp's adventure, five years passed into the imperishablebefore the town heard of the wanderer again, and then it heard at firsthand; Mr. Arp's prophecy fell true, and he took it back to his bosomagain, claimed it as his own the morning of its fulfilment. Joe Loudenhad come back to Canaan. 

The elder Louden was the first to know of his prodigal's return. Hewas alone in the office of the wooden-butter-dish factory, of which hewas the superintendent, when the young man came in unannounced. He wasstill pale and thin; his eyebrows had the same crook, one corner of hismouth the same droop; he was only an inch or so taller, not enough tobe thought a tall man; and yet, for a few moments the father did notrecognize his son, but stared at him, inquiring his business. Duringthose few seconds of unrecognition, Mr. Louden was somewhat favorablyimpressed with the stranger's appearance. 

"You don't know me, " said Joe, smiling cheerfully. "Perhaps I'vechanged in seven years. " And he held out his hand. 

Then Mr. Louden knew; he tilted back in his desk-chair, his mouthfalling open. "Good God!" he said, not noticing the out-stretchedhand. "Have YOU come back?"

Joe's hand fell. 

"Yes, I've come back to Canaan. "

Mr. Louden looked at him a long time without replying; finally heremarked:

"I see you've still got a scar on your forehead. "

"Oh, I've forgotten all about that, " said the other, twisting his hatin his hands. "Seven years wipes out a good many grievances andwrongs. "

"You think so?" Mr Louden grunted. "I suppose it might wipe out a gooddeal with some people. How'd you happen to stop off at Canaan? On yourway somewhere, I suppose. "

"No, I've come back to stay. "

Mr. Louden plainly received this as no pleasant surprise. "What for?"he asked, slowly. 

"To practise law, father. "

"What!"

"Yes, " said the young man. "There ought to be an opening here for me. I'm a graduate of as good a law-school as there is in the country--"

"You are!"

"Certainly, " said Joe, quietly. "I've put myself through, working inthe summer--"

"Working!" Mr. Louden snorted. "Side-shows?"

"Oh, worse than that, sometimes, " returned his son, laughing. "Anything I could get. But I've always wanted to come back home andwork here. "

Mr. Louden leaned forward, a hand on each knee, his brow deeplycorrugated. "Do you think you'll get much practice in Canaan?"

"Why not? I've had a year in a good office in New York since I leftthe school, and I think I ought to get along all right. "

"Oh, " said Mr. Louden, briefly. "You do?"

"Yes. Don't you?"

"Who do you think in Canaan would put a case in your hands?"

"Oh, I don't expect to get anything important at the start. But aftera while--"

"With your reputation?"

The smile which had faded from Joe's lips returned to them. "Oh, Iknow they thought I was a harum-scarum sort of boy, " he answeredlightly, "and that it was a foolish thing to run away for nothing; butyou had said I mustn't come to you for help--"

"I meant it, " said Mr. Louden. 

"But that's seven years ago, and I suppose the town's forgotten allabout it, and forgotten me, too. So, you see, I can make a freshstart. That's what I came back for. "

"You've made up your mind to stay here, then?"

"Yes. "

"I don't believe, " said Mr. Louden, with marked uneasiness, "that Mrs. Louden would be willing to let you live with us. "

"No, " said Joe, gently. "I didn't expect it. " He turned to the windowand looked out, averting his face, yet scoring himself with thecontempt he had learned to feel for those who pity themselves. Hisfather had not even asked him to sit down. There was a long silence, disturbed only by Mr. Louden's breathing, which could be heard, heavyand troubled. 

At last Joe turned again, smiling as before. "Well, I won't keep youfrom your work, " he said. "I suppose you're pretty busy--"

"Yes, I am, " responded his father, promptly. "But I'll see you againbefore you go. I want to give you some advice. "

"I'm not going, " said Joe. "Not going to leave Canaan, I mean. Wherewill I find Eugene?"

"At the Tocsin office; he's the assistant editor. Judge Pike bought theTocsin last year, and he thinks a good deal of Eugene. Don't forget Isaid to come to see me again before you go. "

Joe came over to the older man and held out his hand. "Shake hands, father, " he said. Mr. Louden looked at him out of small implacableeyes, the steady hostility of which only his wife or the imperiousMartin Pike, his employer, could quell. He shook his head. 

"I don't see any use in it, " he answered. "It wouldn't mean anything. All my life I've been a hard-working man and an abiding man. Beforeyou got in trouble you never did anything you ought to; you ran withthe lowest people in town, and I and all your folks were ashamed ofyou. I don't see that we've got a call to be any different now. " Heswung round to his desk emphatically, on the last word, and Joe turnedaway and went out quietly. 

But it was a bright morning to which he emerged from the outer doors ofthe factory, and he made his way towards Main Street at a lively gait. As he turned the corner opposite the "National House, " he walked intoMr. Eskew Arp. The old man drew back angrily. 

"Lord 'a' mercy!" cried Joe, heartily. "It's Mr. Arp! I almost ranyou down!" Then, as Mr. Arp made no response, but stood stock-still inthe way, staring at him fiercely, "Don't you know me, Mr. Arp?" theyoung man asked. "I'm Joe Louden. "

Eskew abruptly thrust his face close to the other's. "NO FREE SEATS!"he hissed, savagely; and swept across to the hotel to set his worldafire. 

Joe looked after the irate, receding figure, and watched it disappearinto the Main Street door of the "National House. " As the door closed, he became aware of a mighty shadow upon the pavement, and turning, beheld a fat young man, wearing upon his forehead a scar similar to hisown, waddling by with eyes fixed upon him. 

"How are you, Norbert?" Joe began. "Don't you remember me? I--" Hecame to a full stop, as the fat one, thrusting out an under lip as hisonly token of recognition, passed balefully on. 

Joe proceeded slowly until he came to the Tocsin building. At the footof the stairway leading up to the offices he hesitated for a fewmoments; then he turned away and walked towards the quieter part ofMain Street. Most of the people he met took no notice of him, only twoor three giving him second glances of half-cognizance, as though hereminded them of some one they could not place, and it was not until hehad come near the Pike Mansion that he saw a full recognition in theeyes of one of the many whom he knew, and who had known him in hisboyhood in the town. A lady, turning a corner, looked up carelessly, and then half-stopped within a few feet of him, as if startled. Joe'scheeks went a sudden crimson; for it was the lady of his old dreams. 

Seven years had made Mamie Pike only prettier. She had grown into heryoung womanhood with an ampleness that had nothing of oversufficiencyin it, nor anywhere a threat that some day there might be too much ofher. Not quite seventeen when he had last seen her, now, attwenty-four, her amber hair elaborately becoming a plump and regularface, all of her old charm came over him once more, and it immediatelyseemed to him that he saw clearly his real reason for coming back toCanaan. She had been the Rich-Little-Girl of his child days, thegolden princess playing in the Palace-Grounds, and in his early boyhood(until he had grown wicked and shabby) he had been sometimes invited tothe Pike Mansion for the games and ice-cream of the daughter of thehouse, before her dancing days began. He had gone timidly, not daringever to "call" her in "Quaker Meeting" or "Post-office, " but watchingher reverently and surreptitiously and continually. She had alwaysseemed to him the one thing of all the world most rare, mostmysterious, most unapproachable. She had not offered an apparitionless so in those days when he began to come under the suspicion ofCanaan, when the old people began to look upon him hotly, the youngpeople coldly. His very exclusion wove for him a glamour about her, and she was more than ever his moon, far, lovely, unattainable, andbrilliant, never to be reached by his lifted arms, but only by hislifted eyes. Nor had his long absence obliterated that light;somewhere in his dreams it always had place, shining, perhaps, with afainter lustre as the years grew to seven, but never gone altogether. Now, at last, that he stood in her very presence again, it sprang tothe full flood of its old brilliance--and more!

As she came to her half-stop of surprise, startled, he took his couragein two hands, and, lifting his hat, stepped to her side. 

"You--you remember me?" he stammered. 

"Yes, " she answered, a little breathlessly. 

"Ah, that's kind of you!" he cried, and began to walk on with her, unconsciously. "I feel like a returned ghost wanderingabout--invisible and unrecognized. So few people seem to remember me!"

"I think you are wrong. I think you'll find everybody remembers you, "she responded, uneasily. 

"No, I'm afraid not, " he began. "I--"

"I'm afraid they do!"

Joe laughed a little. "My father was saying something like that to mea while ago. He meant that they used to think me a great scapegracehere. Do you mean that?"

"I'd scarcely like to say, " she answered, her face growing moretroubled; for they were close on the imperial domain. 

"But it's long ago--and I really didn't do anything so outrageous, itseems to me. " He laughed again. "I know your father was angry with meonce or twice, especially the night I hid on your porch to watchyou--to watch you dance, I mean. But, you see, I've come back torehabilitate myself, to--"

She interrupted him. They were not far from her gate, and she saw herfather standing in the yard, directing a painter who was at work on oneof the cast-iron deer. The Judge was apparently in good spirits, laughing with the workman over some jest between them, but that did notlessen Mamie's nervousness. 

"Mr. Louden, " she said, in as kindly a tone as she could, "I shall haveto ask you not to walk with me. My father would not like it. "

Joe stopped with a jerk. 

"Why, I--I thought I'd go in and shake hands with him, --and tell himI--"

Astonishment that partook of terror and of awe spread itself instantlyupon her face. 

"Good gracious!" she cried. "NO!"

"Very well, " said Joe, humbly. "Good-bye. "

He was too late to get away with any good grace. Judge Pike had seenthem, and, even as Joe turned to go, rushed down to the gate, flung itopen, and motioned his daughter to enter. This he did with one widesweep of his arm, and, with another sweep, forbade Joe to look uponeither moon OR sun. It was a magnificent gesture: it excluded theyoung man from the street, Judge Pike's street, and from the town, Judge Pike's town. It swept him from the earth, abolished him, deniedhim the right to breathe the common air, to be seen of men; and, atonce a headsman's stroke and an excommunication, destroyed him, souland body, thus rebuking the silly Providence that had created him, andrepairing Its mistake by annihilating him. This hurling Olympiangesture smote the street; the rails of the car-track sprang andquivered with the shock; it thundered, and, amid the dumfounding uproarof the wrath of a god, the Will of the Canaanite Jove wrote the wordsin fiery letters upon the ether:

"CEASE TO BE!"

Joe did not go in to shake hands with Judge Pike. 

He turned the next corner a moment later, and went down the quietstreet which led to the house which had been his home. He did notglance at that somewhat grim edifice, but passed it, his eyes averted, and stopped in front of the long, ramshackle cottage next door. Thewindows were boarded; the picket-fence dropped even to the ground insome sections; the chimneys sagged and curved; the roof of the longporch sprinkled shingles over the unkempt yard with every wind, andseemed about to fall. The place was desolate with long emptiness anddecay: it looked like a Haunted House; and nailed to the padlocked gatewas a sign, half obliterated with the winters it had fronted, "For Saleor Rent. "

Joe gat him meditatively back to Main Street and to the Tocsinbuilding. This time he did not hesitate, but mounted the stairs andknocked upon the door of the assistant editor. 

"Oh, " said Eugene. "YOU'VE turned up, you?"

Mr. Bantry of the Tocsin was not at all the Eugene rescued from the"Straw-Cellar. " The present gentleman was more the electric Freshmanthan the frightened adventurer whom Joe had encountered in New York. It was to be seen immediately that the assistant editor had nothingundaintily business-like about him, nor was there the litter on hisdesk which one might have expected. He had the air of a gentlemandilettante who amused himself slightly by spending an hour or two inthe room now and then. It was the evolution to the perfect of hisFreshman manner, and his lively apparel, though somewhat chastened byan older taste, might have been foretold from that which had smittenCanaan seven years before. He sat not at the orderly and handsomedesk, but lay stretched upon a divan of green leather, smoking a cigarof purest ray and reading sleepily a small verse-looking book inmorocco. His occupation, his general air, the furniture of the room, and his title (doubtless equipped with a corresponding salary) mighthave inspired in an observant cynic the idea that here lay a pet ofFortune, whose position had been the fruit of nepotism, or, mayhap, asuccessful wooing of some daughter, wife, or widow. Eugene lookedcompetent for that. 

"I've come back to stay, 'Gene, " said Joe. 

Bantry had dropped his book and raised himself on an elbow. "Exceedingly interesting, " he said. "I suppose you'll try to findsomething to do. I don't think you could get a place here; Judge Pikeowns the Tocsin, and I greatly fear he has a prejudice against you. "

"I expect he has, " Joe chuckled, somewhat sadly. "But I don't wantnewspaper work. I'm going to practice law. "

"By Jove! you have courage, my festive prodigal. VRAIMENT!"

Joe cocked his head to one side with his old look of the friendlypuppy. "You always did like to talk that noveletty way, 'Gene, didn'tyou?" he said, impersonally. 

Eugene's color rose. "Have you saved up anything to starve on?" heasked, crisply. 

"Oh, I'm not so badly off. I've had a salary in an office for a year, and I had one pretty good day at the races--"

"You'd better go back and have another, " said his step-brother. "Youdon't seem to comprehend your standing in Canaan. "

"I'm beginning to. " Joe turned to the door. "It's funny, too--in away. Well--I won't keep you any longer. I just stopped in to saygood-day--" He paused, faltering. 

"All right, all right, " Eugene said, briskly. "And, by-the-way, Ihaven't mentioned that I saw you in New York. "

"Oh, I didn't suppose that you would. "

"And you needn't say anything about it, I fancy. "

"I don't think, " said Joe, --"I don't think that you need be afraid I'lldo that. Good-bye. "

"Be sure to shut the door, please; it's rather noisy with it open. Good-bye. " Eugene waved his hand and sank back upon the divan. 

Joe went across the street to the "National House. " The sages fell assilent as if he had been Martin Pike. They had just had the pleasureof hearing a telephone monologue by Mr. Brown, the clerk, to which theylistened intently: "Yes. This is Brown. Oh--oh, it's Judge Pike?Yes indeed, Judge, yes indeed, I hear you--ha, ha! Of course, Iunderstand. Yes, Judge, I heard he was in town. No, he hasn't beenhere. Not yet, that is, Judge. Yes, I hear. No, I won't, of course. Certainly not. I will, I will. I hear perfectly, I understand. Yes, sir. Good-bye, Judge. "

Joe had begun to write his name in the register. "My trunk is still atthe station, " he said. "I'll give you my check to send down for it. "

"Excuse me, " said the clerk. "We have no rooms. "

"What!" cried Joe, innocently. "Why, I never knew more than eightpeople to stay here at the same time in my life. "

"We have no rooms, " repeated the clerk, curtly. 

"Is there a convention here?"

"We have no rooms, I say!"

Joe looked up into the condensed eyes of Mr. Brown. "Oh, " he said, "Isee. "

Deathly silence followed him to the door, but, as it closed behind him, he heard the outbreak of the sages like a tidal wave striking adump-heap of tin cans. 

Two hours later he descended from an evil ark of a cab at the corralattached to Beaver Beach, and followed the path through the marsh tothe crumbling pier. A red-bearded man was seated on a plank by thewater edge, fishing. 

"Mike, " said Joe, "have you got room for me? Can you take me in for afew days until I find a place in town where they'll let me stay?"

The red-bearded man rose slowly, pushed back his hat, and stared hardat the wanderer; then he uttered a howl of joy and seized the other'shands in his and shook them wildly. 

"Glory be on high!" he shouted. "It's Joe Louden come back! We neverknew how we missed ye till ye'd gone! Place fer ye! Can I find it?There ain't a imp o' perdition in town, includin' myself, that wouldn'tkill me if I couldn't! Ye'll have old Maggie's room, my own aunt's; yeremember how she used to dance! Ha, ha! She's been burnin' belowthese four years! And we'll have the celebration of yer return thisnight. There'll be many of 'em will come when they hear ye're back inCanaan! Praise God, we'll all hope ye're goin' to stay a while!"

IX

"OUTER DARKNESS"

If any echo of doubt concerning his undesirable conspicuousness soundedfaintly in Joe's mind, it was silenced eftsoons. Canaan had notforgotten him--far from it!--so far that it began pointing him out tostrangers on the street the very day of his return. His course ofaction, likewise that of his friends, permitted him little obscurity, and when the rumors of his finally obtaining lodging at Beaver Beach, and of the celebration of his installation there, were presentlyconfirmed, he stood in the lime-light indeed, as a Mephistophelesupsprung through the trap-door. 

The welcoming festivities had not been so discreetly conducted as toaccord with the general policy of Beaver Beach. An unfortunateincident caused the arrest of one of the celebrators and theambulancing to the hospital of another on the homeward way, the ensuingproceedings in court bringing to the whole affair a publicity devoutlyunsought for. Mr. Happy Fear (such was the habitual name of theimprisoned gentleman) had to bear a great amount of harsh criticism forinjuring a companion within the city limits after daylight, and forfailing to observe that three policemen were not too distant from thescene of operations to engage therein. 

"Happy, if ye had it in mind to harm him, " said the red-bearded man toMr. Fear, upon the latter's return to society, "why didn't ye do it outhere at the Beach?"

"Because, " returned the indiscreet, "he didn't say what he was goin' tosay till we got in town. "

Extraordinary probing on the part of the prosecutor had developed atthe trial that the obnoxious speech had referred to the guest of theevening. The assaulted party, one "Nashville" Cory, was not of Canaan, but a bit of drift-wood haply touching shore for the moment at BeaverBeach; and--strange is this world--he had been introduced to thecoterie of Mike's Place by Happy Fear himself, who had enjoyed a briefacquaintance with him on a day when both had chanced to travelincognito by the same freight. Naturally, Happy had felt responsiblefor the proper behavior of his protege--was, in fact, bound to enforceit; additionally, Happy had once been saved from a term of imprisonment(at a time when it would have been more than ordinarily inconvenient)by help and advice from Joe, and he was not one to forget. Therefore hewas grieved to observe that his own guest seemed to be somewhat jealousof the hero of the occasion and disposed to look coldly upon him. Thestranger, however, contented himself with innuendo (mere expressions ofthe face and other manner of things for which one could not squarelylay hands upon him) until such time as he and his sponsor had come toMain Street in the clear dawn on their way to Happy's apartment--avariable abode. It may be that the stranger perceived what Happy didnot; the three bluecoats in the perspective; at all events, he now putinto words of simple strength the unfavorable conception he had formedof Joe. The result was mediaevally immediate, and the period of Mr. Cory's convalescence in the hospital was almost half that of hissponsor's detention in the county jail. 

It needed nothing to finish Joe with the good people of Canaan; had itneeded anything, the trial of Happy Fear would have overspilled thenecessity. An item of the testimony was that Joseph Louden had helpedto carry one of the ladies present--a Miss Le Roy, who had fainted--tothe open air, and had jostled the stranger in passing. After this, theoldest woman in Canaan would not have dared to speak to Joe on thestreet (even if she wanted to), unless she happened to be very poor orvery wicked. The Tocsin printed an adequate account (for there was "alarge public interest"), recording in conclusion that Mr. Louden paidthe culprit's fine which was the largest in the power of the presidingjudge in his mercy to bestow. Editorially, the Tocsin leaned to thefacetious: "Mr. Louden has but recently 'returned to our midst. ' Wefervently hope that the distinguished Happy Fear will appreciate hispatron's superb generosity. We say 'his patron, ' but perhaps we err inthis. Were it not better to figure Mr. Louden as the lady in distress, Mr. Fear as the champion in the lists? In the present case, however, contrary to the rules of romance, the champion falls in duress andpasses to the dungeon. We merely suggest, en passant, that some of ourbest citizens might deem it a wonderful and beauteous thing if, inaddition to paying the fine, Mr. Louden could serve for the loyal Happyhis six months in the Bastile!"

"En passant, " if nothing else, would have revealed to Joe, in thisimitation of a better trick, the hand of Eugene. And, little doubt, hewould have agreed with Squire Buckalew in the Squire's answer to theeasily expected comment of Mr. Arp. 

"Sometimes, " said Eskew, "I think that 'Gene Bantry is jest a leetlebit spiderier than he is lazy. That's the first thing he's written inthe Tocsin this month--one of the boys over there told me. He wrote itout of spite against Joe; but he'd ought to of done better. If hisspite hadn't run away with what mind he's got, he'd of said that bothJoe Louden and that tramp Fear ought to of had ten years!"

"'Gene Bantry didn't write that out of spite, " answered Buckalew. "Heonly thought he saw a chance to be kind of funny and please Judge Pike. The Judge has always thought Joe was a no-account--"

"Ain't he right?" cried Mr. Arp. 

"_I_ don't say he ain't. " Squire Buckalew cast a glance at Mr. Brown, the clerk, and, perceiving that he was listening, added, "The Judgealways IS right!"

"Yes, sir!" said Colonel Flitcroft. 

"I can't stand up for Joe Louden to any extent, but I don't think hedone wrong, " Buckalew went on, recovering, "when he paid this manFear's fine. "

"You don't!" exclaimed Mr. Arp. "Why, haven't you got gumption enoughto see--"

"Look here, Eskew, " interposed his antagonist. "How many friends haveyou got that hate to hear folks talk bad about you?"

"Not a one!" For once Eskew's guard was down, and his consistency ledhim to destruction. "Not a one! It ain't in human nature. They'rebound to enjoy it!"

"Got any friends that would FIGHT for you?"

Eskew walked straight into this hideous trap. "No! There ain't a dozenmen ever LIVED that had! Caesar was a popular man, but he didn't havea soul to help him when the crowd lit on him, and I'll bet old MarkAntony was mighty glad they got him out in the yard before ithappened, --HE wouldn't have lifted a finger without a gang behind him!Why, all Peter himself could do was to cut off an ear that wasn't nouse to anybody. What are you tryin' to get AT?"

The Squire had him; and paused, and stroked his chin, to make the ruincomplete. "Then I reckon you'll have to admit, " he murmured, "that, while I ain't defendin' Joe Louden's character, it was kind of properfor him to stand by a feller that wouldn't hear nothin' against him, and fought for him as soon as he DID hear it!"

Eskew Arp rose from his chair and left the hotel. It was the onlymorning in all the days of the conclave when he was the first to leave. 

Squire Buckalew looked after the retreating figure, total triumphshining brazenly from his spectacles. "I expect, " he explained, modestly, to the others, --"I expect I don't think any more of JoeLouden than he does, and I'll be glad when Canaan sees the last of himfor good; but sometimes the temptation to argue with Eskew does lead meon to kind of git the better of him. "

When Happy Fear had suffered--with a give-and-take simplicity ofpatience--his allotment of months in durance, and was released and sentinto the streets and sunshine once more, he knew that his first dutylay in the direction of a general apology to Joe. But the young manwas no longer at Beaver Beach; the red-bearded proprietor dwelt alonethere, and, receiving Happy with scorn and pity, directed him toretrace his footsteps to the town. 

"Ye must have been in the black hole of incarceration indeed, if yehaven't heard that Mr. Louden has his law-office on the Square, and hislivin'-room behind the office. It's in that little brick buildin'straight acrost from the sheriff's door o' the jail--ye've beenneighbors this long time! A hard time the boy had, persuadin' any oneto rent to him, but by payin' double the price he got a place at last. He's a practisin' lawyer now, praise the Lord! And all the boys andgirls of our acquaintance go to him with their troubles. Ye'll see himwith a murder case to try before long, as sure as ye're not worth yersalt! But I expect ye can still call him by his name of Joe, all thesame!"

It was a bleak and meagre little office into which Mr. Fear usheredhimself to offer his amends. The cracked plaster of the walls was bare(save for dust); there were no shelves; the fat brown volumes, most ofthem fairly new, were piled in regular columns upon a cheap pine table;there was but one window, small-paned and shadeless; an inner door ofthis sad chamber stood half ajar, permitting the visitor unreservedacquaintance with the domestic economy of the tenant; for it discloseda second room, smaller than the office, and dependent upon the windowof the latter for air and light. Behind a canvas camp-cot, dimlyvisible in the obscurity of the inner apartment, stood a smallgas-stove, surmounted by a stew-pan, from which projected the handle ofa big tin spoon, so that it needed no ghost from the dead to whisperthat Joseph Louden, attorney-at-law, did his own cooking. Indeed, helooked it!

Upon the threshold of the second room reposed a small, worn, light-brown scrub-brush of a dog, so cosmopolitan in ancestry that hisspecies was almost as undeterminable as the cast-iron dogs of the PikeMansion. He greeted Mr. Fear hospitably, having been so lately anoffcast of the streets himself that his adoption had taught him to loseonly his old tremors, not his hopefulness. At the same time Joe rosequickly from the deal table, where he had been working with one hand inhis hair, the other splattering ink from a bad pen. 

"Good for you, Happy!" he cried, cheerfully. "I hoped you'd come to seeme to-day. I've been thinking about a job for you. "

"What kind of a job?" asked the visitor, as they shook hands. "I needone bad enough, but you know there ain't nobody in Canaan would gimmeone, Joe. "

Joe pushed him into one of the two chairs which completed the furnitureof his office. "Yes, there is. I've got an idea--"

"First, " broke in Mr. Fear, fingering his shapeless hat and fixing hiseyes upon it with embarrassment, --"first lemme say what I come here tosay. I--well--" His embarrassment increased and he paused, rubbing thehat between his hands. 

"About this job, " Joe began. "We can fix it so--"

"No, " said Happy. "You lemme go on. I didn't mean fer to cause you notrouble when I lit on that loud-mouth, 'Nashville'; I never thoughtthey'd git me, or you'd be dragged in. But I jest couldn't stand himno longer. He had me all wore out--all evening long a-hintin' andsniffin' and wearin' that kind of a high-smile 'cause they made so muchfuss over you. And then when we got clear in town he come out with it!Said you was too quiet to suit HIM--said he couldn't see nothin' TOyou! 'Well, ' I says to myself, 'jest let him go on, jest one more, ' Isays, 'then he gits it. ' And he did. Said you tromped on his foot onpurpose, said he knowed it, --when the Lord-a'mightiest fool on earthknows you never tromped on no one! Said you was one of the po'restyoung sports he ever see around a place like the Beach. You see, hethought you was jest one of them fool 'Bloods' that come around raisin'a rumpus, and didn't know you was our friend and belonged out there, the same as me or Mike hisself. 'Go on, ' I says to myself, 'jest onemore!' 'HE better go home to his mamma, ' he says; 'he'll git introuble if he don't. Somebody 'll soak him if he hangs around in MYcompany. _I_ don't like his WAYS. ' Then I HAD to do it. There jestwasn't nothin' LEFT--but I wouldn't of done you no harm by it--"

"You didn't do me any harm, Happy. "

"I mean your repitation. "

"I didn't have one--so nothing in the world could harm it. About yourgetting some work, now--"

"I'll listen, " said Happy, rather suspiciously. 

"You see, " Joe went on, growing red, "I need a sort of janitor here--"

"What fer?" Mr. Fear interrupted, with some shortness. 

"To look after the place. "

"You mean these two rooms?"

"There's a stairway, too, " Joe put forth, quickly. "It wouldn't be anysinecure, Happy. You'd earn your money; don't be afraid of that!"

Mr. Fear straightened up, his burden of embarrassment gone from him, transferred to the other's shoulders. 

"There always was a yellow streak in you, Joe, " he said, firmly. "You're no good as a liar except when you're jokin'. A lot you need ajanitor! You had no business to pay my fine; you'd ort of let me workedit out. Do you think my eyes ain't good enough to see how much youneeded the money, most of all right now when you're tryin' to gitstarted? If I ever take a cent from you, I hope the hand I hold outfer it 'll rot off. "

"Now don't say that, Happy. "

"I don't want a job, nohow!" said Mr. Fear, going to the door; "I don'twant to work. There's plenty ways fer me to git along without that. But I've said what I come here to say, and I'll say one thing more. Don't you worry about gittin' law practice. Mike says you're goin' togit all you want--and if there ain't no other way, why, a few of us 'llgo out and MAKE some fer ye!"

These prophecies and promises, over which Joe chuckled at first, withhis head cocked to one side, grew very soon, to his amazement, to weara supernatural similarity to actual fulfilment. His friends broughthim their own friends, such as had sinned against the laws of Canaan, those under the ban of the sheriff, those who had struck in anger, those who had stolen at night, those who owed and could not pay, thosewho lived by the dice, and to his other titles to notoriety was addedthat of defender of the poor and wicked. He found his hands full, especially after winning his first important case--on which occasionCanaan thought the jury mad, and was indignant with the puzzled Judge, who could not see just how it had happened. 

Joe did not stop at that. He kept on winning cases, clearing theinnocent and lightening the burdens of the guilty; he became the mostdangerous attorney for the defence in Canaan; his honorable brethren, accepting the popular view of him, held him in personal contempt butfeared him professionally; for he proved that he knew more law thanthey thought existed; nor could any trick him--failing which, manytempers were lost, but never Joe's. His practice was not all criminal, as shown by the peevish outburst of the eminent Buckalew (the Squire'snephew, esteemed the foremost lawyer in Canaan), "Before long, therewon't be any use trying to foreclose a mortgage or collect anote--unless this shyster gets himself in jail!"

The wrath of Judge Martin Pike was august--there was a kind ofsublimity in its immenseness--on a day when it befell that the shysterstood betwixt him and money. 

That was a monstrous task--to stand between these two and separatethem, to hold back the hand of Martin Pike from what it had reached outto grasp. It was in the matter of some tax-titles which the magnatehad acquired, and, in court, Joe treated the case with such horrifyingsimplicity that it seemed almost credible that the great man hadcounted upon the ignorance and besottedness of Joe's client--ahard-drinking, disreputable old farmer--to get his land away from himwithout paying for it. Now, as every one knew such a thing to beludicrously impossible, it was at once noised abroad in Canaan that Joehad helped to swindle Judge Pike out of a large sum of money--it wasnotorious that the shyster could bamboozle court and jury with histricks; and it was felt that Joe Louden was getting into very deepwaters indeed. THIS was serious: if the young man did not LOOK OUT, hemight find himself in the penitentiary. 

The Tocsin paragraphed him with a fine regularity after this, usuallyopening with a Walrus-and-the-Carpenter gravity: "The time has comewhen we must speak of a certain matter frankly, " or, "At last the timehas arrived when the demoralization of the bar caused by a certaincriminal lawyer must be dealt with as it is and without gloves. " Oncewhen Joe had saved a half-witted negro from "the extreme penalty" formurder, the Tocsin had declared, with great originality: "This is justthe kind of thing that causes mobs and justifies them. If we are tocontinue to permit the worst class of malefactors to escape theconsequences of their crimes through the unwholesome dexterities andthe shifty manipulations and technicalities of a certain criminallawyer, the time will come when an outraged citizenry may take theenforcement of the law in its own hands. Let us call a spade a spade. If Canaan's streets ever echo with the tread of a mob, the fault liesupon the head of Joseph Louden, who has once more brought about amiscarriage of justice. .. . "

Joe did not move into a larger office; he remained in the little roomwith its one window and its fine view of the jail; his clients werenearly all poor, and many of his fees quite literally nominal. Tattersand rags came up the narrow stairway to his door--tatters and rags andpitiful fineries: the bleared, the sodden, the flaunting and rouged, the furtive and wary, some in rags, some in tags, and some--thesorriest--in velvet gowns. With these, the distressed, thewrong-doers, the drunken, the dirty, and the very poor, his work layand his days and nights were spent. 

Ariel had told Roger Tabor that in time Joe might come to be what thetown thought him, if it gave him no other chance. Only its dinginessand evil surrounded him; no respectable house was open to him; thebarrooms--except that of the "National House"--welcomed him gratefullyand admiringly. Once he went to church, on a pleasant morning whennice girls wear pretty spring dresses; it gave him a thrill of delightto see them, to be near clean, good people once more. Inadvertently, hetook a seat by his step-mother, who rose with a slight rustle of silkand moved to another pew; and it happened, additionally, that this wasthe morning that the minister, fired by the Tocsin's warnings, hadchosen to preach on the subject of Joe himself. 

The outcast returned to his own kind. No lady spoke to him upon thestreet. Mamie Pike had passed him with averted eyes since her firstmeeting with him, but the shunning and snubbing of a young man by apretty girl have never yet, if done in a certain way, prevented himfrom continuing to be in love with her. Mamie did it in the certainway. Joe did not wince, therefore it hurt all the more, for blows fromwhich one cringes lose much of their force. 

The town dog had been given a bad name, painted solid black from headto heel. He was a storm centre of scandal; the entrance to his dingystairway was in square view of the "National House, " and the result isimaginable. How many of Joe's clients, especially those sorriest ofthe velvet gowns, were conjectured to ascend his stairs for reasonsmore convivial than legal! Yes, he lived with his own kind, and, sofar as the rest of Canaan was concerned, might as well have worn thescarlet letter on his breast or branded on his forehead. 

When he went about the streets he was made to feel his condition by theelaborate avoidance, yet furtive attention, of every respectable personhe met; and when he came home to his small rooms and shut the doorbehind him, he was as one who has been hissed and shamed in public andruns to bury his hot face in his pillow. He petted his mongrelextravagantly (well he might!), and would sit with him in his rooms atnight, holding long converse with him, the two alone together. The dogwas not his only confidant. There came to be another, a more and morefrequent partner to their conversations, at last a familiar spirit. This third came from a brown jug which Joe kept on a shelf in hisbedroom, a vessel too frequently replenished. When the day's work wasdone he shut himself up, drank alone and drank hard. Sometimes when thejug ran low and the night was late he would go out for a walk with hisdog, and would awake in his room the next morning not remembering wherehe had gone or how he had come home. Once, after such a lapse ofmemory, he woke amazed to find himself at Beaver Beach, whither, helearned from the red-bearded man, Happy Fear had brought him, havingfound him wandering dazedly in a field near by. These lapses grew morefrequent, until there occurred that which was one of the strange thingsof his life. 

It was a June night, a little more than two years after his return toCanaan, and the Tocsin had that day announced the approaching marriageof Eugene Bantry and his employer's daughter. Joe ate nothing duringthe day, and went through his work clumsily, visiting the bedroom shelfat intervals. At ten in the evening he went out to have the jugrefilled, but from the moment he left his door and the fresh air struckhis face, he had no clear knowledge of what he did or of what went onabout him until he woke in his bed the next morning. 

And yet, whatever little part of the soul of him remained, that night, still undulled, not numbed, but alive, was in some strange mannerlifted out of its pain towards a strange delight. His body was anautomaton, his mind in bondage, yet there was a still, smallconsciousness in him which knew that in his wandering somethingincredible and unexpected was happening. What this was he did notknow, could not see, though his eyes were open, could not have toldhimself any more than a baby could tell why it laughs, but it seemedsomething so beautiful and wonderful that the night became a night ofperfume, its breezes bearing the music of harps and violins, whilenightingales sang from the maples that bordered the streets of Canaan. 

X

THE TRYST

He woke to the light of morning amazed and full of a strange wonderbecause he did not know what had amazed him. For a little while afterhis eyes opened, he lay quite motionless; then he lifted his headslightly and shook it with some caution. This had come to be custom. The operation assured him of the worst; the room swam round him, and, with a faint groan, he let his head fall back upon the pillow. But hecould not sleep again; pain stung its way through his heart as memorybegan to come back to him, not of the preceding night--that was allblank, --but realization that the girl of whom he had dreamed so longwas to be married. That his dreams had been quite hopeless was no balmto his hurt. 

A chime of bells sounded from a church steeple across the Square, ringing out in assured righteousness, summoning the good people whomaintained them to come and sit beneath them or be taken to task; andthey fell so dismally upon Joe's ear that he bestirred himself androse, to the delight of his mongrel, who leaped upon him joyfully. Anhour later, or thereabout, the pair emerged from the narrow stairwayand stood for a moment, blinking in the fair sunshine, apparentlyundecided which way to go. The church bells were silent; there was nobreeze; the air trembled a little with the deep pipings of the organacross the Square, and, save for that, the town was very quiet. Thepaths which crossed the Court-house yard were flecked with steadyshadow, the strong young foliage of the maples not moving, having theair of observing the Sabbath with propriety. There were benches hereand there along the walks, and to one of these Joe crossed, and satdown. The mongrel, at his master's feet, rolled on his back in morningecstasy, ceased abruptly to roll and began to scratch his ear with ahind foot intently. A tiny hand stretched to pat his head, and the doglicked it appreciatively. It belonged to a hard-washed young lady ofsix (in starchy, white frills and new, pink ribbons), who had run aheadof her mother, a belated church-goer; and the mongrel charmed her. 

"Will you give me this dog?" she asked, without any tedious formalities. 

Involuntarily, she departed before receiving a reply. The mother, ared-faced matron whom Joe recognized as a sister of Mrs. Louden's, consequently his step-aunt, swooped at the child with a rush and rustleof silk, and bore her on violently to her duty. When they had gone alittle way the matron's voice was heard in sharp reproof; the child, held by one wrist and hurried along on tiptoe, staring back over oneshoulder at Joe, her eyes wide, and her mouth the shape of the "O" shewas ejaculating. 

The dog looked up with wistful inquiry at his master, who cocked aneyebrow at him in return, wearing much the same expression. The motherand child disappeared within the church doors and left the Square tothe two. Even the hotel showed no signs of life, for the wise men werenot allowed to foregather on Sundays. The organ had ceased to stir theair and all was in quiet, yet a quiet which, for Louden, was not peace. He looked at his watch and, without intending it, spoke the hour aloud:"A quarter past eleven. " The sound of his own voice gave him a littleshock; he rose without knowing why, and, as he did so, it seemed to himthat he heard close to his ear another voice, a woman's, troubled andinsistent, but clear and sweet, saying:

"REMEMBER! ACROSS MAIN STREET BRIDGE AT NOON!"

It was so distinct that he started and looked round. Then he laughed. "I'll be seeing circus parades next!" His laughter fled, for, louderthan the ringing in his ears, unmistakably came the strains of afar-away brass band which had no existence on land or sea or in thewaters under the earth. 

"Here!" he said to the mongrel. "We need a walk, I think. Let's youand me move on before the camels turn the corner!"

The music followed him to the street, where he turned westward towardthe river, and presently, as he walked on, fanning himself with hisstraw hat, it faded and was gone. But the voice he had heard returned. 

"REMEMBER! ACROSS MAIN STREET BRIDGE AT NOON!" it said again, close tohis ear. 

This time he did not start. "All right, " he answered, wiping hisforehead; "if you'll let me alone, I'll be there. "

At a dingy saloon corner, near the river, a shabby little man greetedhim heartily and petted the mongrel. "I'm mighty glad you didn't go, after all, Joe, " he added, with a brightening face. 

"Go where, Happy?"

Mr. Fear looked grave. "Don't you rec'lect meetin' me last night?"

Louden shook his head. "No. Did I?"

The other's jaw fell and his brow corrugated with self-reproach. "Well, if that don't show what a thick-head I am! I thought ye was allright er I'd gone on with ye. Nobody c'd 'a' walked straighter nertalked straighter. Said ye was goin' to leave Canaan fer good anddidn't want nobody to know it. Said ye was goin' to take the'leven-o'clock through train fer the West, and told me I couldn't cometo the deepo with ye. Said ye'd had enough o' Canaan, and ofeverything! I follered ye part way to the deepo, but ye turned andmade a motion fer me to go back, and I done it, because ye seemed to bekind of in trouble, and I thought ye'd ruther be by yerself. Well, sir, it's one on me!"

"Not at all, " said Joe. "I was all right. "

"Was ye?" returned the other. "DO remember, do ye?"

"Almost, " Joe smiled, faintly. 

"ALMOST, " echoed Happy, shaking his head seriously. "I tell ye, Joe, efI was YOU--" he began slowly, then paused and shook his head again. Heseemed on the point of delivering some advice, but evidently perceivingthe snobbishness of such a proceeding, or else convinced by his ownexperience of the futility of it, he swerved to cheerfulness:

"I hear the boys is all goin' to work hard fer the primaries. Mikesays ye got some chances ye don't know about; HE swears ye'll be thenext Mayor of Canaan. "

"Nonsense! Folly and nonsense, Happy! That's the kind of thing I usedto think when I was a boy. But now--pshaw!" Joe broke off with a tiredlaugh. "Tell them not to waste their time. Are you going out to theBeach this afternoon?"

The little man lowered his eyes moodily. "I'll be near there, " hesaid, scraping his patched shoe up and down the curbstone. "Thatfeller's in town agin. "

"What fellow?"

"'Nashville' they call him; Ed's the name he give the hospital:Cory--him that I soaked the night you come back to Canaan. He's afterClaudine to git his evens with me. He's made a raise somewheres, andplays the spender. And her--well, I reckon she's tired waitin' tableat the National House; tired o' me, too. I got a hint that they'regoin' out to the Beach together this afternoon. "

Joe passed his hand wearily over his aching forehead. "I understand, "he said, "and you'd better try to. Cory's laying for you, of course. You say he's after your wife? He must have set about it pretty openlyif they're going to the Beach to-day, for there is always a crowd thereon Sundays. Is it hard for you to see why he's doing it? It's becausehe wants to make you jealous. What for? So that you'll tackle himagain. And why does he want that? Because he's ready for you!"

The other's eyes suddenly became bloodshot, his nostrils expandingincredibly. "READY, is he? He BETTER be ready. I--"

"That's enough!" Joe interrupted, swiftly. "We'll have no talk likethat. I'll settle this for you, myself. You send word to Claudinethat I want to see her at my office to-morrow morning, and you--youstay away from the Beach to-day. Give me your word. "

Mr. Fear's expression softened. "All right, Joe, " he said. "I'll dowhatever you tell me to. Any of us 'll do that; we sure know who's ourfriend. "

"Keep out of trouble, Happy. " Joe turned to go and they shook hands. "Good day, and--keep out of trouble!"

When he had gone, Mr. Fear's countenance again gloomed ominously, and, shaking his head, he ruminatively entered an adjacent bar through thealley door. 

The Main Street bridge was an old-fashioned, wooden, covered one, dust-colored and very narrow, squarely framing the fair, open countrybeyond; for the town had never crossed the river. Joe found the coolshadow in the bridge gracious to his hot brow, and through the slenderchinks of the worn flooring he caught bright glimpses of running water. When he came out of the other end he felt enough refreshed to light acigar. 

"Well, here I am, " he said. "Across Main Street bridge--and it must begetting on toward noon!" He spoke almost with the aspect of daring, and immediately stood still, listening. "'REMEMBER, "' he ventured torepeat, again daring, "'REMEMBER! ACROSS MAIN STREET BRIDGE AT NOON!'"And again he listened. Then he chuckled faintly with relief, for thevoice did not return. "Thank God, I've got rid of that!" he whispered. "And of the circus band too!"

A dust road turned to the right, following the river and shaded by bigsycamores on the bank; the mongrel, intensely preoccupied with thisroad, scampered away, his nose to the ground. "Good enough, " said themaster. "Lead on and I'll come after you. "

But he had not far to follow. The chase led him to a half-hollow logwhich lay on a low, grass-grown levee above the stream, where the dog'sinterest in the pursuit became vivid; temporarily, however, for after afew minutes of agitated investigation, he was seized with indifferenceto the whole world; panted briefly; slept. Joe sat upon the log, whichwas in the shade, and smoked. 

"'REMEMBER!'" He tried it once more. "'ACROSS MAIN STREET BRIDGE ATNOON!'" Safety still; the voice came not. But the sound of his ownrepetition of the words brought him an eerie tremor; for the mist of amemory came with it; nothing tangible, nothing definite, but somethingvery far away and shadowy, yet just poignant enough to give him a queerfeeling that he was really keeping an appointment here. Was it withsome water-sprite that would rise from the river? Was it with a dryadof the sycamores? He knew too well that he might expect strangefancies to get hold of him this morning, and, as this one grewuncannily stronger, he moved his head briskly as if to shake it off. The result surprised him; the fancy remained, but his headache anddizziness had left him. 

A breeze wandered up the river and touched the leaves and grass tolife. Sparrows hopped and chirped in the branches, absurdly surprised;without doubt having concluded in the Sunday stillness that the worldwould drowse forever; and the mongrel lifted his head, blinked at them, hopelessly wishing they would alight near him, scratched his ear withthe manner of one who has neglected such matters overlong; reversed hisposition; slept again. The young corn, deep green in the bottomland, moved with a staccato flurry, and the dust ghost of a mad whirlingdervish sped up the main road to vanish at the bridge in a climax oflunacy. The stirring air brought a smell of blossoms; the distance tookon faint lavender hazes which blended the outlines of the fields, lyinglike square coverlets upon the long slope of rising ground beyond thebottom-land, and empurpled the blue woodland shadows of the groves. 

For the first time, it struck Joe that it was a beautiful day, and itcame to him that a beautiful day was a thing which nothing exceptdeath, sickness, or imprisonment could take from him--not even the banof Canaan! Unforewarned, music sounded in his ears again; but he didnot shrink from it now; this was not the circus band he had heard as heleft the Square, but a melody like a far-away serenade at night, as of"the horns of elf-land faintly blowing"; and he closed his eyes withthe sweetness of it. 

"Go ahead!" he whispered. "Do that all you want to. If you'll keep itup like this awhile, I'll follow with 'Little Brown Jug, How I LoveThee!' It seems to pay, after all!"

The welcome strains, however, were but the prelude to a harsher soundwhich interrupted and annihilated them: the Court-house bell clangingout twelve. "All right, " said Joe. "It's noon and I'm 'across MainStreet bridge. '"

He opened his eyes and looked about him whimsically. Then he shook hishead again. 

A lady had just emerged from the bridge and was coming toward him. 

It would be hard to get at Joe's first impressions of her. We can findconveyance for only the broadest and heaviest. Ancient and moderninstances multiply the case of the sleeper who dreams out a long storyin accurate color and fine detail, a tale of years, in the opening andshutting of a door. So with Joseph, in the brief space of the lady'sapproach. And with him, as with the sleeper, it must have been--infact it was, in his recollections, later--a blur of emotion. 

At first sight of her, perhaps it was pre-eminently the shock of seeinganything so exquisite where he had expected to see nothing at all. Forshe was exquisite--horrid as have been the uses of the word, its bestand truest belong to her; she was that and much more, from the ivoryferrule of the parasol she carried, to the light and slender footprintshe left in the dust of the road. Joe knew at once that nothing likeher had ever before been seen in Canaan. 

He had little knowledge of the millinery arts, and he needed none tosee the harmony--harmony like that of the day he had discovered alittle while ago. Her dress and hat and gloves and parasol showed apale lavender overtint like that which he had seen overspreading thewestern slope. (Afterward, he discovered that the gloves she wore thatday were gray, and that her hat was for the most part white. ) Thecharm of fabric and tint belonging to what she wore was no shame toher, not being of primal importance beyond herself; it was but theexpression of her daintiness and the adjunct of it. She was tall, butif Joe could have spoken or thought of her as "slender, " he would havebeen capable of calling her lips "red, " in which case he would not havebeen Joe, and would have been as far from the truth as her lips werefrom red, or as her supreme delicateness was from mere slenderness. 

Under the summer hat her very dark hair swept back over her templeswith something near trimness in the extent to which it was withheldfrom being fluffy. It may be that this approach to trimness, whichwas, after all, only a sort of coquetry with trimness, is the true keyto the mystery of the vision of the lady who appeared to Joe. Let ussay that she suppressed everything that went beyond grace; that thehint of floridity was abhorrent to her. "Trim" is as clumsy as"slender"; she had escaped from the trimness of girlhood as wholly asshe had gone through its coltishness. "Exquisite. " Let us go back toJoe's own blurred first thought of her and be content with that!

She was to pass him--so he thought--and as she drew nearer, his breathcame faster. 

"REMEMBER! ACROSS MAIN STREET BRIDGE AT NOON!" Was THIS the fay ofwhom the voice had warned him? With that, there befell him the mysteryof last night. He did not remember, but it was as if he lived again, dimly, the highest hour of happiness in a life a thousand years ago;perfume and music, roses, nightingales and plucked harp-strings. Yes;something wonderful was happening to him. 

She had stopped directly in front of him; stopped and stood looking athim with her clear eyes. He did not lift his own to hers; he had longexperience of the averted gaze of women; but it was not only that; agreat shyness beset him. He had risen and removed his hat, trying(ineffectually) not to clear his throat; his every-day sense urgingupon him that she was a stranger in Canaan who had lost her way--thepreposterousness of any one's losing the way in Canaan not just nowappealing to his every--day sense. 

"Can I--can I--" he stammered, blushing miserably, meaning to finishwith "direct you, " or "show you the way. "

Then he looked at her again and saw what seemed to him the strangestsight of his life. The lady's eyes had filled with tears--filled andoverfilled. "I'll sit here on the log with you, " she said. And hervoice was the voice which he had heard saying, "REMEMBER! ACROSS MAINSTREET BRIDGE AT NOON!"

"WHAT!" he gasped. 

"You don't need to dust it!" she went on, tremulously. And even thenhe did not know who she was. 

XI

WHEN HALF-GODS GO

There was a silence, for if the dazzled young man could have spoken atall, He could have found nothing to say; and, perhaps, the lady wouldnot trust her own voice just then. His eyes had fallen again; he wastoo dazed, and, in truth, too panic-stricken, now, to look at her, though if he had been quite sure that she was part of a wonderful dreamhe might have dared. She was seated beside him, and had handed him herparasol in a little way which seemed to imply that of course he hadreached for it, so that it was to be seen how used she was to have alltiny things done for her, though this was not then of his tremulousobserving. He did perceive, however, that he was to furl the daintything; he pressed the catch, and let down the top timidly, as iffearing to break or tear it; and, as it closed, held near his face, hecaught a very faint, sweet, spicy emanation from it like wild roses andcinnamon. 

He did not know her; but his timidity and a strange little choke in histhroat, the sudden fright which had seized upon him, were not caused byembarrassment. He had no thought that she was one he had known butcould not, for the moment, recall; there was nothing of the awkwardnessof that; no, he was overpowered by the miracle of this meeting. Andyet, white with marvelling, he felt it to be so much more touchingly agreat happiness than he had ever known that at first it wasinexpressibly sad. 

At last he heard her voice again, shaking a little, as she said:

"I am glad you remembered. "

"Remembered what?" he faltered. 

"Then you don't?" she cried. "And yet you came. "

"Came here, do you mean?"

"Yes--now, at noon. "

"Ah!" he half whispered, unable to speak aloud. "Was it you whosaid--who said, 'Remember! Across--across--"'

"'Across Main Street bridge at noon!'" she finished for him, gently. "Yes. "

He took a deep breath in the wonder of it. "Where was it you saidthat?" he asked, slowly. "Was it last night?"

"Don't you even know that you came to meet me?"

"_I_--came to--to meet--you!"

She gave a little pitying cry, very near a sob, seeing his utterbewilderment. 

"It was like the strangest dream in the world, " she said. "You were atthe station when I came, last night. You don't remember at all?"

His eyes downcast, his face burning hotly, he could only shake his head. 

"Yes, " she continued. "I thought no one would be there, for I had notwritten to say what train I should take, but when I stepped down fromthe platform, you were standing there; though you didn't see me atfirst, not until I had called your name and ran to you. You said, 'I've come to meet you, ' but you said it queerly, I thought. And thenyou called a carriage for me; but you seemed so strange you couldn'ttell how you knew that I was coming, and--and then I--I understood youweren't yourself. You were very quiet, but I knew, I knew! So I madeyou get into the carriage--and--and--"

She faltered to a stop, and with that, shame itself brought himcourage; he turned and faced her. She had lifted her handkerchief toher eyes, but at his movement she dropped it, and it was not so muchthe delicate loveliness of her face that he saw then as the tears uponher cheeks. 

"Ah, poor boy!" she cried. "I knew! I knew!"

"You--you took me home?"

"You told me where you lived, " she answered. "Yes, I took you home. "

"I don't understand, " he stammered, huskily. "I don't understand!"

She leaned toward him slightly, looking at him with great intentness. 

"You didn't know me last night, " she said. "Do you know me now?"

For answer he could only stare at her, dumfounded. He lifted anunsteady hand toward her appealingly. But the manner of the lady, asshe saw the truth, underwent an April change. She drew back lightly; hewas favored with the most delicious, low laugh he had ever heard, and, by some magic whisk which she accomplished, there was no sign of tearsabout her. 

"Ah! I'm glad you're the same, Joe!" she said. "You never would orcould pretend very well. I'm glad you're the same, and I'm glad I'vechanged, though that isn't why you have forgotten me. You've forgottenme because you never thought of me. Perhaps I should not have knownyou if you had changed a great deal--as I have!"

He started, leaning back from her. 

"Ah!" she laughed. "That's it! That funny little twist of the headyou always had, like a--like a--well, you know I must have told you athousand times that it was like a nice friendly puppy; so why shouldn'tI say so now? And your eyebrows! When you look like that, nobodycould ever forget you, Joe!"

He rose from the log, and the mongrel leaped upon him uproariously, thinking they were to go home, belike to food. 

The lady laughed again. "Don't let him spoil my parasol. And I mustwarn you now: Never, never TREAD ON MY SKIRT! I'm very irritableabout such things!"

He had taken three or four uncertain backward steps from her. She satbefore him, radiant with laughter, the loveliest creature he had everseen; but between him and this charming vision there swept, through thewarm, scented June air, a veil of snow like a driven fog, and, halfobscured in the heart of it, a young girl stood, knee-deep in a driftpiled against an old picket gate, her black water-proof and shabbyskirt flapping in the blizzard like torn sails, one of her handsout-stretched toward him, her startled eyes fixed on his. 

"And, oh, how like you, " said the lady; "how like you and nobody elsein the world, Joe, to have a yellow dog!"

"ARIEL TABOR!"

His lips formed the words without sound. 

"Isn't it about time?" she said. "Are strange ladies in the HABIT ofdescending from trains to take you home?"

Once, upon a white morning long ago, the sensational progress of acertain youth up Main Street had stirred Canaan. But that day was asnothing to this. Mr. Bantry had left temporary paralysis in his wake;but in the case of the two young people who passed slowly along thestreet to-day it was petrifaction, which seemingly threatened inseveral instances (most notably that of Mr. Arp) to become permanent. 

The lower portion of the street, lined with three and four storybuildings of brick and stone, rather grim and hot facades under themid-day sun, afforded little shade to the church-comers, who wereworking homeward in processional little groups and clumps, none walkingfast, though none with the appearance of great leisure, since neitherrate of progress would have been esteemed befitting the day. Thegrowth of Canaan, steady, though never startling, had left almost allof the churches down-town, and Main Street the principal avenue ofcommunication between them and the "residence section. " So, to-day, the intermittent procession stretched along the new cement side-walksfrom a little below the Square to Upper Main Street, where maples linedthe thoroughfare and the mansions of the affluent stood among pleasantlawns and shrubberies. It was late; for this had been a communionSunday, and those far in advance, who had already reached the prettyand shady part of the street, were members of the churches whereservices had been shortest; though few in the long parade looked as ifthey had been attending anything very short, and many heads of familieswere crisp in their replies to the theological inquiries of theiroffspring. The men imparted largely a gloom to the itinerantconcourse, most of them wearing hot, long black coats and having wiltedtheir collars; the ladies relieving this gloom somewhat by the lightertints of their garments; the spick-and-span little girls relieving itgreatly by their white dresses and their faces, the latter bright withthe hope of Sunday ice-cream; while the boys, experiencing some solacein that they were finally out where a person could at least scratchhimself if he had to, yet oppressed by the decorous necessities of theday, marched along, furtively planning, behind imperturbably secretivecountenances, various means for the later dispersal of an odiousmonotony. 

Usually the conversation of this long string of the homeward-bound wasnot too frivolous or worldly; nay, it properly inclined to discussionof the sermon; that is, praise of the sermon, with here and there amild "I-didn't-like-his-saying" or so; and its lighter aspects were aptto concern the next "Social, " or various pleasurable schemes for theraising of funds to help the heathen, the quite worthy poor, or thechurch. 

This was the serious and seemly parade, the propriety of whose behaviorwas to-day almost disintegrated when the lady of the bridge walked upthe street in the shadow of a lacy, lavender parasol carried by JosephLouden. The congregation of the church across the Square, that towhich Joe's step-aunt had been late, was just debouching, almost inmass, upon Main Street, when these two went by. It is not quite thetruth to say that all except the children came to a dead halt, but itis not very far from it. The air was thick with subdued exclamationsand whisperings. 

Here is no mystery. Joe was probably the only person of respectablederivation in Canaan who had not known for weeks that Ariel Tabor wason her way home. And the news that she had arrived the night beforehad been widely disseminated on the way to church, entering church, INchurch (even so!), and coming out of church. An account of her housein the Avenue Henri Martin, and of her portrait in the Salon--amysterious business to many, and not lacking in grandeur for that!--hadoccupied two columns in the Tocsin, on a day, some months before, whenJoe had found himself inimically head-lined on the first page, and haddropped the paper without reading further. Ariel's name had been inthe mouth of Canaan for a long time; unfortunately for Joe, however, not in the mouth of that Canaan which held converse with him. 

Joe had not known her. The women recognized her, infallibly, at firstglance; even those who had quite forgotten her. And the women toldtheir men. Hence the un-Sunday-like demeanor of the procession, forfew towns hold it more unseemly to stand and stare at passers-by, especially on the Sabbath. --BUT Ariel Tabor returned--and walkingwith--WITH JOE LOUDEN! . .. 

A low but increasing murmur followed the two as they proceeded. It ranup the street ahead of them; people turned to look back and paused, sothat they had to walk round one or two groups. They had, also, to walkround Norbert Flitcroft, which was very like walking round a group. Hewas one of the few (he was waddling home alone) who did not identifyMiss Tabor, and her effect upon him was extraordinary. His mouthopened and he gazed stodgily, his widening eyes like sun-dogs comingout of a fog. He did not recognize her escort; did not see him at alluntil they had passed, after which Mr. Flitcroft experienced a fewmoments of trance; came out of it stricken through and through; feltnervously of his tie; resolutely fell in behind the heeling mongrel andfollowed, at a distance of some forty paces, determined to learn whathousehold this heavenly visitor honored, and thrilling with theintention to please that same household with his own presence as soonand as often as possible. 

Ariel flushed a little when she perceived the extent of theirconspicuousness; but it was not the blush that Joe remembered hadreddened the tanned skin of old; for her brownness had gone long ago, though it had not left her merely pink and white. This was a delicaterosiness rising from her cheeks to her temples as the earliest dawnrises. If there had been many words left in Joe, he would have calledit a divine blush; it fascinated him, and if anything could havedeepened the glamour about her, it would have been this blush. He didnot understand it, but when he saw it he stumbled. 

Those who gaped and stared were for him only blurs in the background;truly, he saw "men as trees walking"; and when it became necessary tostep out to the curb in passing some clump of people, it was to him asif Ariel and he, enchantedly alone, were working their way throughunderbrush in the woods. 

He kept trying to realize that this lady of wonder was Ariel Tabor, buthe could not; he could not connect the shabby Ariel, whom he hadtreated as one boy treats another, with this young woman of the world. He had always been embarrassed, himself, and ashamed of her, whenanything she did made him remember that, after all, she was a girl; as, on the day he ran away, when she kissed a lock of his hair escapingfrom the bandage. With that recollection, even his ears grew red: itdid not seem probable that it would ever happen again! The nextinstant he heard himself calling her "Miss Tabor. "

At this she seemed amused. "You ought to have called me that, yearsago, " she said, "for all you knew me!"

"I did know her--YOU, I mean!" he answered. "I used to know nearlyeverything you were going to say before you said it. It seems strangenow--"

"Yes, " she interrupted. "It does seem strange now!"

"Somehow, " he went on, "I doubt if now I'd know. "

"Somehow, " she echoed, with fine gravity, "I doubt it, too. "

Although he had so dim a perception of the staring and whispering whichgreeted and followed them, Ariel, of course, was thoroughly aware ofit, though the only sign she gave was the slight blush, which very soondisappeared. That people turned to look at her may have been notaltogether a novelty: a girl who had learned to appear unconscious ofthe Continental stare, the following gaze of the boulevards, the frankglasses of the Costanza in Rome, was not ill equipped to face MainStreet, Canaan, even as it was to-day. 

Under the sycamores, before they started, they had not talked a greatdeal; there had been long silences: almost all her questions concerningthe period of his runaway absence; she appeared to know and tounderstand everything which had happened since his return to the town. He had not, in his turn, reached the point where he would begin toquestion her; he was too breathless in his consciousness of themarvellous present hour. She had told him of the death of Roger Tabor, the year before. "Poor man, " she said, gently, "he lived to see 'howthe other fellows did it' at last, and everybody liked him. He wasvery happy over there. "

After a little while she had said that it was growing close uponlunch-time; she must be going back. 

"Then--then--good-bye, " he replied, ruefully. 

"Why?"

"I'm afraid you don't understand. It wouldn't do for you to be seenwith me. Perhaps, though, you do understand. Wasn't that why youasked me to meet you out here beyond the bridge?"

In answer she looked at him full and straight for three seconds, thenthrew back her head and closed her eyes tight with laughter. Without aword she took the parasol from him, opened it herself, placed thesmooth white coral handle of it in his hand, and lightly took his arm. There was no further demur on the part of the young man. He did notknow where she was going; he did not ask. 

Soon after Norbert turned to follow them, they came to the shady partof the street, where the town in summer was like a grove. Detachmentsfrom the procession had already, here and there, turned in at thevarious gates. Nobody, however, appeared to have gone in-doors, exceptfor fans, armed with which immediately to return to rockers upon theshaded verandas. As Miss Tabor and Joe went by, the rocking-chairsstopped; the fans poised, motionless; and perspiring old gentlemen, wiping their necks, paused in arrested attitudes. 

Once Ariel smiled politely, not at Mr. Louden, and inclined her headtwice, with the result that the latter, after thinking for a time ofhow gracefully she did it and how pretty the top of her hat was, becamegradually conscious of a meaning in her action: that she had bowed tosome one across the street. He lifted his hat, about four minuteslate, and discovered Mamie Pike and Eugene, upon the opposite pavement, walking home from church together. Joe changed color. 

There, just over the way, was she who had been, in his first youth, thefairy child, the little princess playing in the palace yard, and alwaysafterward his lady of dreams, his fair unreachable moon! And Joe, seeing her to-day, changed color; that was all! He had passed Mamie inthe street only a week before, and she had seemed all that she hadalways seemed; to-day an incomprehensible and subtle change hadbefallen her--a change so mystifying to him that for a moment he almostdoubted that she was Mamie Pike. It came to him with a breath-takingshock that her face lacked a certain vivacity of meaning; that itssweetness was perhaps too placid; that there would have been a deepergoodness in it had there been any hint of daring. Astonishing questionsassailed him, startled him: could it be true that, after all, theremight be some day too much of her? Was her amber hair a littletoo--FLUFFY? Was something the matter with her dress? Everything shewore had always seemed so beautiful. Where had the exquisiteness of itgone? For there was surely no exquisiteness about it now! It wasincredible that any one could so greatly alter in the few days elapsedsince he had seen her. 

Strange matters! Mamie had never looked prettier. 

At the sound of Ariel's voice he emerged from the profundities of hispsychic enigma with a leap. 

"She is lovelier than ever, isn't she?"

"Yes, indeed, " he answered, blankly. 

"Would you still risk--" she began, smiling, but, apparently thinkingbetter of it, changed her question: "What is the name of your dog, Mr. Louden? You haven't told me. "

"Oh, he's just a yellow dog, " he evaded, unskilfully. 

"YOUNG MAN!" she said, sharply. 

"Well, " he admitted, reluctantly, "I call him Speck for short. "

"And what for long? I want to know his real name. "

"It's mighty inappropriate, because we're fond of each other, " saidJoe, "but when I picked him up he was so yellow, and so thin, and socreeping, and so scared that I christened him 'Respectability. '"

She broke into light laughter, stopped short in the midst of it, andbecame grave. "Ah, you've grown bitter, " she said, gently. 

"No, no, " he protested. "I told you I liked him. "

She did not answer. 

They were now opposite the Pike Mansion, and to his surprise sheturned, indicating the way by a touch upon his sleeve, and crossed thestreet toward the gate, which Mamie and Eugene had entered. Mamie, after exchanging a word with Eugene upon the steps, was alreadyhurrying into the house. 

Ariel paused at the gate, as if waiting for Joe to open it. 

He cocked his head, his higher eyebrow rose, and the distorted smileappeared. "I don't believe we'd better stop here, " he said. "The lasttime I tried it I was expunged from the face of the universe. "

"Don't you know?" she cried. "I'm staying here. Judge Pike has chargeof all my property; he was the administrator, or something. " Thenseeing him chopfallen and aghast, she went on: "Of course you don'tknow! You don't know anything about me. You haven't even asked!"

"You're going to live HERE?" he gasped. 

"Will you come to see me?" she laughed. "Will you come this afternoon?"

He grew white. "You know I can't, " he said. 

"You came here once. You risked a good deal then, just to see Mamiedance by a window. Don't you dare a little for an old friend?"

"All right, " he gulped. "I'll try. "

Mr. Bantry had come down to the gate and was holding it open, his eyesfixed upon Ariel, within them a rising glow. An impression came to Joeafterward that his step-brother had looked very handsome. 

"Possibly you remember me, Miss Tabor?" said Eugene, in a deep andimpressive voice, lifting his hat. "We were neighbors, I believe, inthe old days. "

She gave him her hand in a fashion somewhat mannerly, favoring him witha bright, negligent smile. "Oh, quite, " she answered, turning again toJoe as she entered the gate. "Then I shall expect you?"

"I'll try, " said Joe. "I'll try. "

He stumbled away; Respectability and he, together, interfering alarmingly with the comfort ofMr. Flitcroft, who had stopped in the middle of the pavement to stareglassily at Ariel. Eugene accompanied the latter into the house, andJoe, looking back, understood: Mamie had sent his step-brother tobring Ariel in--and to keep him from following. 

"This afternoon!" The thought took away his breath, and he becamepaler. 

The Pike brougham rolled by him, and Sam Warden, from the box, favoredhis old friend upon the pavement with a liberal display of the whitesof his eyes. The Judge, evidently, had been detained afterservices--without doubt a meeting of the church officials. Mrs. Pike, blinking and frightened, sat at her husband's side, agreeing feeblywith the bull-bass which rumbled out of the open window of thebrougham: "I want orthodox preaching in MY church, and, by God, madam, I'll have it! That fellow has got to go!" Joe took off his hat andwiped his brow. 

XII

TO REMAIN ON THE FIELD OF BATTLE IS NOT ALWAYS A VICTORY

Mamie, waiting just inside the door as Ariel and Eugene entered, gavethe visitor a pale greeting, and, a moment later, hearing the wheels ofthe brougham crunch the gravel of the carriage-drive, hurried away, down the broad hall, and disappeared. Ariel dropped her parasol upon amarble-topped table near the door, and, removing her gloves, driftedinto a room at the left, where a grand piano found shelter beneathcrimson plush. After a moment of contemplation, she pushed back thecoverlet, and, seating herself upon the plush-covered piano-stool (tomatch), let her fingers run up and down the key-board once and falllistlessly in her lap, as she gazed with deep interest at threelife-sized colored photographs (in carved gilt frames) upon the wallshe was facing: Judge Pike, Mamie, and Mrs. Pike with her rubies. 

"Please don't stop playing, Miss Tabor, " said a voice behind her. Shehad not observed that Eugene had followed her into the room. 

"Very well, if you like, " she answered, looking up to smile absently athim. And she began to play a rakish little air which, composed by somerattle-brain at a cafe table, had lately skipped out of the MoulinRouge to disport itself over Paris. She played it slowly, in the minor, with elfish pathos; while he leaned upon the piano, his eyes fixed uponher fingers, which bore few rings, none, he observed with anunreasonable pleasure, upon the third finger of the left hand. 

"It's one of those simpler Grieg things, isn't it?" he said, sighinggently. "I care for Grieg. "

"Would you mind its being Chaminade?" she returned, dropping her eyesto cloak the sin. 

"Ah no; I recognize it now, " replied Eugene. "He appeals to me evenmore than Grieg. "

At this she glanced quickly up at him, but more quickly down again, andhastened the time emphatically, swinging the little air into the major. 

"Do you play the 'Pilgrim's Chorus'?"

She shook her head. 

"Vous name pas Wagner?" inquired Eugene, leaning toward her. 

"Oh yes, " she answered, bending her head far over, so that her face wasconcealed from him, except the chin, which, he saw with a thrill ofinexplicable emotion, was trembling slightly. There were some smallwhite flowers upon her hat, and these shook too. 

She stopped playing abruptly, rose from the stool and crossed the roomto a large mahogany chair, upholstered in red velvet and of hybridconstruction, possessing both rockers and legs. She had moved in a waywhich prevented him from seeing her face, but he was certain of heragitation, and strangely glad, while curious, tremulous half-thoughts, edged with prophecy, bubbled to the surface of his consciousness. 

When she turned to him, he was surprised to see that she lookedastonishingly happy, almost as if she had been struggling with joy, instead of pain. 

"This chair, " she said, sinking into it, "makes me feel at home. "

Naturally he could not understand. 

"Because, " she explained, "I once thought I was going to live in it. It has been reupholstered, but I should know it if I met in anywhere inthe world!"

"How very odd!" exclaimed Eugene, staring. 

"I settled here in pioneer days, " she went on, tapping the arms lightlywith her finger-tips. "It was the last dance I went to in Canaan. "

"I fear the town was very provincial at that time, " he returned, havingcompletely forgotten the occasion she mentioned, therefore wishing toshift the subject. "I fear you may still find it so. There is notmuch here that one is in sympathy with, intellectually--few peoplereally of the world. "

"Few people, I suppose you mean, " she said, softly, with a look thatwent deep enough into his eyes, "few people who really understand one?"

Eugene had seated himself on the sill of an open window close by. "There has been, " he answered, with the ghost of a sigh, "no one. "

She turned her head slightly away from him, apparently occupied with aloose thread in her sleeve. There were no loose threads; it was an oldhabit of hers which she retained. "I suppose, " she murmured, in avoice as low as his had been, "that a man of your sort might findCanaan rather lonely and sad. "

"It HAS been!" Whereupon she made him a laughing little bow. 

"You are sure you complain of Canaan?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "You don't know what it is to live here--"

"I think I do. I lived here seventeen years. "

"Oh yes, " he began to object, "as a child, but--"

"Have you any recollection, " she interrupted, "of the day before yourbrother ran away? Of coming home for vacation--I think it was yourfirst year in college--and intervening between your brother and me in asnow-fight?"

For a moment he was genuinely perplexed; then his face cleared. "Certainly, " he said: "I found him bullying you and gave him a goodpunishing for it. "

"Is that all you remember?"

"Yes, " he replied, honestly. "Wasn't that all?"

"Quite!" she smiled, her eyes half closed. "Except that I went homeimmediately afterward. "

"Naturally, " said Eugene. "My step-brother wasn't very much chevaliersans peur et sans reproche! Ah, I should like to polish up my French alittle. Would you mind my asking you to read a bit with me, somelittle thing of Daudet's if you care for him, in the original? Anhour, now and then, perhaps--"

Mamie appeared in the doorway and Eugene rose swiftly. "I have beentrying to persuade Miss Tabor, " he explained, with something too muchof laughter, "to play again. You heard that little thing ofChaminade's--"

Mamie did not appear to hear him; she entered breathlessly, and therewas no color in her cheeks. "Ariel, " she exclaimed, "I don't want youto think I'm a tale-bearer--"

"Oh, my dear!" Ariel said, with a gesture of deprecation. 

"No, " Miss Pike went on, all in one breath, "but I'm afraid you willthink it, because papa knows and he wants to see you. "

"What is it that he knows?"

"That you were walking with Joseph Louden!" (This was as if she hadsaid, "That you poisoned your mother. ") "I DIDN'T tell him, but whenwe saw you with him I was troubled, and asked Eugene what I'd betterdo, because Eugene always knows what is best. " (Mr. Bantry'sexpression, despite this tribute, was not happy. ) "And he advised meto tell mamma about it and leave it in her hands. But she always tellspapa everything--"

"Certainly; that is understood, " said Ariel, slowly, turning to smileat Eugene. 

"And she told him this right away, " Mamie finished. 

"Why shouldn't she, if it is of the slightest interest to him?"

The daughter of the house exhibited signs of consternation. "He wantsto see you, " she repeated, falteringly. "He's in the library. "

Having thus discharged her errand, she hastened to the front-door, which had been left open, and out to the steps, evidently with theintention of removing herself as soon and as far as possible from thevicinity of the library. 

Eugene, visibly perturbed, followed her to the doorway of the room, andpaused. 

"Do you know the way?" he inquired, with a note of solemnity. 

"Where?" Ariel had not risen. 

"To the library. "

"Of course, " she said, beaming upon him. "I was about to ask you ifyou wouldn't speak to the Judge for me. This is such a comfortable oldfriend, this chair. "

"Speak to him for you?" repeated the non-plussed Eugene. 

She nodded cheerfully. "If I may trouble you. Tell him, certainly, Ishall be glad to see him. "

He threw a piteous glance after Mamie, who was now, as he saw, throughthe open door, out upon the lawn and beyond easy hailing distance. When he turned again to look at Ariel he discovered that she hadshifted the position of her chair slightly, and was gazing out of thewindow with every appearance of cheerful meditation. She assumed sounmistakably that he had of course gone on her mission that, dismayedand his soul quaking, he could find neither an alternative nor words toexplain to this dazzling lady that not he nor any other could bear sucha message to Martin Pike. 

Eugene went. There was nothing else to do; and he wished with everystep that the distance to the portals of the library might have beengreater. 

In whatever guise he delivered the summons, it was perfectlyefficacious. A door slammed, a heavy and rapid tread was heard in thehall, and Ariel, without otherwise moving, turned her head and offereda brilliant smile of greeting. 

"It was good of you, " she said, as the doorway filled with red, imperial wrath, "to wish to have a little chat with me. I'm anxious, of course, to go over my affairs with you, and last night, after myjourney, I was too tired. But now we might begin; not in detail, ofcourse, just yet. That will do for later, when I've learned more aboutbusiness. "

The great one had stopped on the threshold. 

"Madam, " he began, coldly, "when I say my library, I mean my--"

"Oh yes, " she interrupted, with amiable weariness. "I know. You meanyou keep all the papers and books of the estate in there, but I thinkwe'd better put them off for a few days--"

"I'm not talking about the estate!" he exclaimed. "What I want to talkto you about is being seen with Joseph Louden!"

"Yes, " she nodded, brightly. "That's along the line we must take upfirst. "

"Yes, it is!" He hurled his bull-bass at her. "You knew everythingabout him and his standing in this community! I know you did, becauseMrs. Pike told me you asked all about him from Mamie after you camelast night, and, see here, don't you--"

"Oh, but I knew before that, " she laughed. "I had a correspondent inCanaan, one who has always taken a great interest in Mr. Louden. Iasked Miss Pike only to get her own point of view. "

"I want to tell you, madam, " he shouted, coming toward her, "that nomember of my household--"

"That's another point we must take up to-day. I'm glad you remind me ofit, " she said, thoughtfully, yet with so magically compelling anintonation that he stopped his shouting in the middle of a word;stopped with an apoplectic splutter. "We must arrange to put the oldhouse in order at once. "

"We'll arrange nothing of the sort, " he responded, after a moment ofangry silence. "You're going to stay right here. "

"Ah, I know your hospitality, " she bowed, graciously. "But of course Imust not tax it too far. And about Mr. Louden? As I said, I want tospeak to you about him. "

"Yes, " he intervened, harshly. "So do I, and I'm going to do it quick!You'll find--"

Again she mysteriously baffled him. "He's a dear old friend of mine, you know, and I have made up my mind that we both need his help, youand I. "

"What!"

"Yes, " she continued, calmly, "in a business way I mean. I know youhave great interests in a hundred directions, all more important thanmine; it isn't fair that you should bear the whole burden of myaffairs, and I think it will be best to retain Mr. Louden as my man ofbusiness. He could take all the cares of the estate off yourshoulders. "

Martin Pike spoke no word, but he looked at her strangely; and shewatched him with sudden keenness, leaning forward in her chair, hergaze alert but quiet, fixed on the dilating pupils of his eyes. Heseemed to become dizzy, and the choleric scarlet which had overspreadhis broad face and big neck faded splotchily. 

Still keeping her eyes upon him, she went on: "I haven't asked him yet, and so I don't know whether or not he'll consent, but I think itpossible that he may come to see me this afternoon, and if he does wecan propose it to him together and go over things a little. "

Judge Pike recovered his voice. "He'll get a warm welcome, " hepromised, huskily, "if he sets foot on my premises!"

"You mean you prefer I shouldn't receive him here?" She noddedpleasantly. "Then certainly I shall not. Such things are much betterfor offices; you are quite right. "

"You'll not see him at all!"

"Ah, Judge Pike, " she lifted her hand with gentle deprecation, "don'tyou understand that we can't quite arrange that? You see, Mr. Loudenis even an older friend of mine than you are, and so I must trust hisadvice about such things more than yours. Of course, if he too shouldthink it better for me not to see him--"

The Judge advanced toward her. "I'm tired of this, " he began, in aloud voice. "I'm--"

She moved as if to rise, but he had come very close, leaning above her, one arm out-stretched and at the end of it a heavy forefinger which hewas shaking at her, so that it was difficult to get out of her chairwithout pushing him away--a feat apparently impossible. Ariel Tabor, in rising, placed her hand upon his out-stretched arm, quite as if hehad offered it to assist her; he fell back a step in completeastonishment; she rose quickly, and released his arm. 

"Thank you, " she said, beamingly. "It's quite all my fault that you'retired. I've been thoughtless to keep you so long, and you have beenstanding, too!" She swept lightly and quickly to the door, where shepaused, gathering her skirts. "I shall not detain you another instant!And if Mr. Louden comes, this afternoon, I'll remember. I'll not lethim come in, of course. It will be perhaps pleasanter to talk over myproposition as we walk!"

There was a very faint, spicy odor like wild roses and cinnamon left inthe room where Martin Pike stood alone, staring whitely at the opendoorway. 

XIII

THE WATCHER AND THE WARDEN

There was a custom of Canaan, time-worn and seldom honored in thebreach, which put Ariel, that afternoon, in easy possession of a coignof vantage commanding the front gate. The heavy Sunday dinner wasfinished in silence (on the part of Judge Pike, deafening) about threeo'clock, and, soon after, Mamie tossed a number of cushions out uponthe stoop between the cast-iron dogs, --Sam Warden having previouslycovered the steps with a rug and placed several garden chairs near byon the grass. These simple preparations concluded, Eugene sprawledcomfortably upon the rug, and Mamie seated herself near him, whileAriel wandered with apparent aimlessness about the lawn, followed bythe gaze of Mr. Bantry, until Miss Pike begged her, a littlepetulantly, to join them. 

She came, looking about her dreamily, and touching to her lips, now andthen, with an absent air, a clover blossom she had found in the longergrass against the fence. She stopped to pat the neck of one of thecast-iron deer, and with grave eyes proffered the clover-top first forinspection, then as food. There were those in the world who, seeingher, might have wondered that the deer did not play Galatea and come tolife. 

"No?" she said, aloud, to the steadfast head. "You won't? What amistake to be made of cast-iron!" She smiled and nodded to a clump oflilac-bushes near a cedar-tree, and to nothing else--so far as Eugeneand Mamie could see, --then walked thoughtfully to the steps. 

"Who in the world were you speaking to?" asked Mamie, curiously. 

"That deer. "

"But you bowed to some one. "

"Oh, that, " Ariel lifted her eyebrows, --"that was your father. Didn'tyou see him?"

"No. "

"I believe you can't from here, after all, " said Ariel, slowly. "He issitting upon a rustic bench between the bushes and the cedar-tree, quite near the gate. No, you couldn't see him from here; you'd have togo as far as the deer, at least, and even then you might not noticehim, unless you looked for him. He has a book--a Bible, I think--but Idon't think he is reading. "

"He usually takes a nap on Sunday afternoons, " said Mamie. 

"I don't think he will, to-day. " Ariel looked at Eugene, who avoidedher clear gaze. "He has the air of having settled himself to stay fora long time, perhaps until evening. "

She had put on her hat after dinner, and Mamie now inquired if shewould not prefer to remove it, offering to carry it in-doors for her, to Ariel's room, to insure its safety. "You look so sort of temporary, wearing it, " she urged, "as if you were only here for a little while. It's the loveliest hat I ever saw, and so fragile, too, but I'll takecare--"

Ariel laughed, leaned over, and touched the other's hand lightly. "Itisn't that, dear. "

"What is it, then?" Mamie beamed out into a joyful smile. She hadfelt sure that she could not understand Ariel; was, indeed, afraid ofher; and she found herself astonishingly pleased to be called "dear, "and delighted with the little familiarity of the hand-tap. Her feelingtoward the visitor (who was, so her father had announced, to become apermanent member of the household) had been, until now, undefined. Shehad been on her guard, watching for some sign of conscious"superiority" in this lady who had been so long over-seas, not knowingwhat to make of her; though thrown, by the contents of her trunks, intoa wistfulness which would have had something of rapture in it had shebeen sure that she was going to like Ariel. She had gone to thelatter's room before church, and had perceived uneasily that it hadbecome, even by the process of unpacking, the prettiest room she hadever seen. Mrs. Warden, wife of Sam, and handmaiden of the mansion, was assisting, alternately faint and vociferous with marvelling. Mamiefeared that Ariel might be a little overpowering. 

With the word "dear" (that is, of course, with the way it was spoken), and with the touch upon the hand, it was all suddenly settled; shewould not understand Ariel always--that was clear--but they would likeeach other. 

"I am wearing my hat, " answered Ariel, "because at any moment I maydecide to go for a long walk!"

"Oh, I hope not, " said Mamie. "There are sure to be people: a fewstill come, even though I'm an engaged girl. I expect that's just toconsole me, though, " she added, smiling over this worn quip of thebetrothed, and shaking her head at Eugene, who grew red and coughed. "There'll be plenty to-day, but they won't be here to see me. It'syou, Ariel, and they'd be terribly disappointed if you weren't here. Ishouldn't wonder if the whole town came; it's curious enough about you!"

Canaan (at least that part of it which Mamie meant when she said "thewhole town") already offered testimony to her truthfulness. Twogentlemen, aged nine and eleven, and clad in white "sailor suits, " wereat that moment grooving their cheeks between the round pickets of thegate. They had come from the house across the street, evidentlystimulated by the conversation at their own recent dinner-table (theywore a few deposits such as are left by chocolate-cake), and the motiveof their conduct became obvious when, upon being joined by a personfrom next door (a starched and frilled person of the opposite sex butsympathetic age), one of them waggled a forefinger through the gate atAriel, and a voice was heard in explanation:

"THAT'S HER. "

There was a rustle in the lilac-bushes near the cedar-tree; the threesmall heads turned simultaneously in that direction; something terrificwas evidently seen, and with a horrified "OOOH!" the trio skedaddledheadlong. 

They were but the gay vanguard of the life which the street, quite deadthrough the Sunday dinner-hour, presently took on. Young couples withtheir progeny began to appear, returning from the weekly reunion Sundaydinner with relatives; young people meditative (until they reached thePike Mansion), the wives fanning themselves or shooing thetots-able-to-walk ahead of them, while the husbands, wearing longcoats, satin ties, and showing dust upon their blazing shoes, invariably pushed the perambulators. Most of these passers-byexchanged greetings with Mamie and Eugene, and all of them looked hardat Ariel as long as it was possible. 

And now the young men of the town, laboriously arranged as to apparel, began to appear on the street in small squads, making their Sundayrounds; the youngest working in phalanxes of threes and fours, thosesomewhat older inclining to move in pairs; the eldest, such as were nowbeginning to be considered middle-aged beaux, or (by the extremelyyouthful) "old bachelors, " evidently considered it advantageous totravel alone. Of all these, there were few who did not, before eveningfell, turn in at the gate of the Pike Mansion. Consciously, shyly orconfidently, according to the condition of their souls, they made theirway between the cast-iron deer to be presented to the visitor. 

Ariel sat at the top of the steps, and, looking amiably over theirheads, talked with such as could get near her. There were many whocould not, and Mamie, occupying the bench below, was surrounded by theoverflow. The difficulty of reaching and maintaining a position nearMiss Tabor was increased by the attitude and behavior of Mr. Flitcroft, who that day cooled the feeling of friendship which several of hisfellow-townsmen had hitherto entertained for him. He had been thefirst to arrive, coming alone, though that was not his custom, and heestablished himself at Ariel's right, upon the step just below her, sodisposing the great body and the ponderous arms and legs the gods hadgiven him, that no one could mount above him to sit beside her, orapproach her from that direction within conversational distance. Onceestablished, he was not to be dislodged, and the only satisfaction forthose in this manner debarred from the society of the beautifulstranger was obtained when they were presented to her and when theytook their departure. On these occasions it was necessary by custom forthem to shake her hand, a ceremony they accomplished by leaning acrossMr. Flitcroft, which was a long way to lean, and the fat back andshoulders were sore that night because of what had been surreptitiouslydone to them by revengeful elbows and knees. 

Norbert, not ordinarily talkative, had nothing to say; he seemed tofind sufficient occupation in keeping the place he had gained; and fromthis close vantage he fastened his small eyes immovably upon Ariel'sprofile. Eugene, also apparently determined not to move, satthroughout the afternoon at her left, but as he was thin, others, whocame and went, were able to approach upon that side and hold speechwith her. 

She was a stranger to these young people, most of whom had grown uptogether in a nickname intimacy. Few of them had more than a veryimperfect recollection of her as she was before Roger Tabor and she haddeparted out of Canaan. She had lived her girlhood only upon theirborderland, with no intimates save her grandfather and Joe; and shereturned to her native town "a revelation and a dream, " as young Mr. Bradbury told his incredulous grandmother that night. 

The conversation of the gallants consisted, for the greater part, ofwitticisms at one another's expense, which, though evoked for Ariel'sbenefit (all eyes furtively reverting to her as each shaft was loosed), she found more or less enigmatical. The young men, however, laughed ateach other loudly, and seemed content if now and then she smiled. "Youmust be frightfully ennuied with all this, " Eugene said to her. "Yousee how provincial we still are. "

She did not answer; she had not heard him. The shadows were stretchingthemselves over the grass, long and attenuated; the sunlight upon thetrees and houses was like a thin, rosy pigment; black birds werecalling each other home to beech and elm; and Ariel's eyes were fixedupon the western distance of the street where gold-dust was beginningto quiver in the air. She did not hear Eugene, but she started, amoment later, when the name "Joe Louden" was pronounced by a young man, the poetic Bradbury, on the step below Eugene. Some one immediatelysaid "'SH!" But she leaned over and addressed Mr. Bradbury, who, shutout, not only from the group about her, but from the other centringupon Miss Pike, as well, was holding a private conversation with afriend in like misfortune. 

"What were you saying of Mr. Louden?" she asked, smiling down upon theyoung man. (It was this smile which inspired his description of her as"a revelation and a dream. ")

"Oh, nothing particular, " was his embarrassed reply. "I only mentionedI'd heard there was some talk among the--" He paused awkwardly, remembering that Ariel had walked with Joseph Louden in the face ofCanaan that very day. "That is, I mean to say, there's some talk of hisrunning for Mayor. "

"WHAT?"

There was a general exclamation, followed by an uncomfortable moment ortwo of silence. No one present was unaware of that noon walk, thoughthere was prevalent a pleasing notion that it would not happen again, founded on the idea that Ariel, having only arrived the previousevening, had probably met Joe on the street by accident, and, remembering him as a playmate of her childhood and uninformed as to hisreputation, had, naturally enough, permitted him to walk home with her. 

Mr. Flitcroft broke the silence, rushing into words with a derisivelaugh: "Yes, he's 'talked of' for Mayor--by the saloon people and theniggers! I expect the Beaver Beach crowd would be for him, and iftramps could vote he might--"

"What is Beaver Beach?" asked Ariel, not turning. 

"What is Beaver Beach?" he repeated, and cast his eyes to the sky, shaking his head awesomely. "It's a Place, " he said, with abysmalsolemnity, --"a Place I shouldn't have mentioned in your presence, MissTabor. "

"What has it to do with Mr. Louden?"

The predestined Norbert conceived the present to be a heaven-sentopportunity to enlighten her concerning Joe's character, since thePikes appeared to have been derelict in the performance of thiskindness. 

"He goes there!" he proceeded heavily. "He lived there for a whilewhen he first came back from running away, and he's a friend of MikeSheehan's that runs it; he's a friend of all the riff-raff that hangaround there. "

"How do you know he goes there?"

"Why, it was in the paper the day after he came back!" He appealed forcorroboration. "Wasn't it, Eugene?"

"No, no!" she persisted. "Newspapers are sometimes mistaken, aren'tthey?" Laughing a little, she swept across the bulbous face beside hera swift regard that was like a search-light. "How do you KNOW, Mr. Flitcroft, " she went on very rapidly, raising her voice, --"how do youKNOW that Mr. Louden is familiar with this place? The newspapers mayhave been falsely informed; you must admit that? Then how do you KNOW?Have you ever MET any one who has seen him there?"

"I've seen him there myself!" The words skipped out of Norbert's mouthlike so many little devils, the instant he opened it. She had spokenso quickly and with such vehemence, looking him full in the eye, thathe had forgotten everything in the world except making the point towhich her insistence had led him. 

Mamie looked horrified; there was a sound of smothered laughter, andNorbert, overwhelmed by the treachery of his own mouth, sat gasping. 

"It can't be such a terrific place, then, after all, " said Ariel, gently, and turning to Eugene, "Have you ever been there, Mr. Bantry?"she asked. 

He changed color, but answered with enough glibness: "No. "

Several of the young men rose; the wretched Flitcroft, however, evadingMamie's eye--in which there was a distinct hint, --sat where he wasuntil all of them, except Eugene, had taken a reluctant departure, onegroup after another, leaving in the order of their arrival. 

The rosy pigment which had colored the trees faded; the gold-dust ofthe western distance danced itself pale and departed; dusk stalked intothe town from the east; and still the watcher upon the steps and thewarden of the gate (he of the lilac-bushes and the Bible) held theirplaces and waited--waited, alas! in vain. .. . Ah! Joe, is THIS themettle of your daring? Did you not say you would "try"? Was yourcourage so frail a vessel that it could not carry you even to the gateyonder? Surely you knew that if you had striven so far, there you wouldhave been met! Perhaps you foresaw that not one, but two, would meetyou at the gate, both the warden and the watcher. What of that? Whatof that, O faint heart? What was there to fear? Listen! The gateclicks. Ah, have you come at last?

Ariel started to her feet, but the bent figure, coming up the walk inthe darkness, was that of Eskew Arp. He bowed gloomily to Mamie, andin response to her inquiry if he wished to see her father, answered no;he had come to talk with the granddaughter of his old friend RogerTabor. 

"Mr. Arp!" called Ariel. "I am so very glad!" She ran down to him andgave him her hand. "We'll sit here on the bench, sha'n't we?"

Mamie had risen, and skirting Norbert frostily, touched Eugene upon theshoulder as she went up the steps. He understood that he was to followher in-doors, and, after a deep look at the bench where Ariel hadseated herself beside Mr. Arp, he obeyed. Norbert was left a lonelyruin between the cold, twin dogs. He had wrought desolation thisafternoon, and that sweet verdure, his good name, so long in theplanting, so carefully tended, was now a dreary waste; yet hecontemplated this not so much as his present aspect of splendidisolation. Frozen by the daughter of the house, forgotten by thevisitor, whose conversation with Mr. Arp was carried on in tones so lowthat he could not understand it, the fat one, though heart-breakinglyloath to take himself away, began to comprehend that his hour hadstruck. He rose, descended the steps to the bench, and seated himselfunexpectedly upon the cement walk at Ariel's feet. "Leg's gone tosleep, " he explained, in response to her startled exclamation; but, like a great soul, ignoring the accident of his position as well as thepresence of Mr. Arp, he immediately proceeded: "Will you go riding withme to-morrow afternoon?"

"Aren't you very good-natured, Mr. Flitcroft?" she asked, with an oddintonation. 

"I'm imposed on, often enough, " he replied, rubbing his leg, "by peoplewho think I am! Why?"

"It is only that your sitting so abruptly upon the ground reminded meof something that happened long ago, before I left Canaan, the lasttime I met you. "

"I don't think I knew you before you went away. You haven't said ifyou'll go riding with me to-morrow. Please--"

"Get up, " interrupted Mr. Arp, acidly. "Somebody 'll fall over you ifyou stay there. "

Such a catastrophe in truth loomed imminent. Judge Pike was rapidlyapproaching on his way to the house, Bible in hand--far better in handthan was his temper, for it is an enraging thing to wait five hours inambush for a man who does not come. In the darkness a desecrationoccurred, and Norbert perfected to the last detail whatever had beenleft incomplete of his own destruction. He began lumberingly to rise, talking at the same time, urging upon Ariel the charms of the roadside;wild flowers were in blossom, he said, recounting the benefits shemight derive through acceptance of his invitation; and having, thusbusily, risen to his knees, became aware that some one was passing nearhim. This some one Mr. Flitcroft, absorbed in artful persuasions, mayhave been betrayed by the darkness to mistake for Eugene. Reaching outfor assistance, he mechanically seized upon the skirts of a coat, whichhe put to the uses of a rope, coming up hand-over-hand with such nobleweight and energy that he brought himself to his feet and the owner ofthe coat to the ground simultaneously. The latter, hideouslyastonished, went down with an objurgation so outrageous in venom thatMr. Arp jumped with the shock. Judge Pike got to his feet quickly, butnot so quickly as the piteous Flitcroft betook himself into the deepshadows of the street. Only a word, hoarse and horror-stricken, wasleft quivering on the night breeze by this accursed, whom the gods, intent upon his ruin, had early in the day, at his first sight ofAriel, in good truth, made mad: "MURDER!"

"Can I help you brush off, Judge?" asked Eskew, rising painfully. 

Either Martin Pike was beyond words, or the courtesy proposed by thefeeble old fellow (for Eskew was now very far along in years, andlooked his age) emphasized too bitterly the indignity which had beenput upon him: whatever the case, he went his way in-doors, leaving thecynic's offer unacknowledged. Eskew sank back upon the bench, with thelittle rusty sounds, suggestions of creaks and sighs, which accompanythe movement of antiques. "I've always thought, " he said, "that theJudge had spells when he was hard of hearing. "

Oblongs of light abruptly dropped from the windows confronting them, one, falling across the bench, appropriately touching with lemon theacrid, withered face and trembling hands of the veteran. "You areyounger than you were nine years ago, Mr. Arp, " said Ariel, gayly. "Icaught a glimpse of you upon the street, to-day, and I thought so then. Now I see that I was right. "

"Me--YOUNGER!" he groaned. "No, ma'am! I'm mighty near through withthis fool world--and I'd be glad of it, if I didn't expect that ifthere IS another one afterwards, it would be jest as ornery!"

She laughed, leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knee, and herchin in her hand, so that the shadow of her hat shielded her eyes fromthe light. "I thought you looked surprised when you saw me to day. "

"I reckon I did!" he exclaimed. "Who wouldn't of been?"

"Why?"

"Why?" he repeated, confounded by her simplicity. "Why?"

"Yes, " she laughed. "That's what I'm anxious to know. "

"Wasn't the whole town the same way?" he demanded. "Did you meetanybody that didn't look surprised?"

"But why should they?"

"Good Lord Admighty!" he broke out. "Ain't you got anylookin'-glasses?"

"I think almost all I have are still in the customs warehouse. "

"Then use Mamie Pike's, " responded the old man. "The town neverdreamed you were goin' to turn out pretty at all, let alone the WAYyou've turned out pretty! The Tocsin had a good deal about your looksand so forth in it once, in a letter from Paris, but the folks thatremembered you kind of set that down to the way papers talk aboutanybody with money, and nobody was prepared for it when they saw you. You don't need to drop no curtseys to ME. " He set his mouth grimly, inresponse to the bow she made him. "_I_ think female beauty is like allother human furbelows, and as holler as heaven will be if only the goodpeople are let in! But yet I did stop to look at you when you wentpast me to-day, and I kept on lookin', long as you were in sight. Ireckon I always will, when I git the chance, too--only shows what humannature IS! But that wasn't all that folks were starin' at to-day. Itwas your walkin' with Joe Louden that really finished 'em, and I cansay it upset me more than anything I've seen for a good many years. "

"Upset you, Mr. Arp?" she cried. "I don't quite see. "

The old man shook his head deploringly. "After what I'd written youabout that boy--"

"Ah, " she said, softly, touching his sleeve with her fingers, "Ihaven't thanked you for that. "

"You needn't, " he returned, sharply. "It was a pleasure. Do youremember how easy and quick I promised you?"

"I remember that you were very kind. "

"Kind!" He gave forth an acid and chilling laugh. "It was about twomonths after Louden ran away, and before you and Roger left Canaan, andyou asked me to promise to write to you whenever word of that outcastcame--"

"I didn't put it so, Mr. Arp. "

"No, but you'd ought of! You asked me to write you whatever news ofhim should come, and if he came back to tell you how and when and allabout it. And I did it, and kept you sharp on his record ever since helanded here again. Do you know why I've done it? Do you know why Ipromised so quick and easy I WOULD do it?"

"Out of the kindness of your heart, I think. "

The acid laugh was repeated. "NO, ma 'am! You couldn't of guessedcolder. I promised, and I kept my promise, because I knew there wouldnever be anything good to tell! AND THERE NEVER WAS!"

"Nothing at all?" she insisted, gravely. 

"Never! I leave it to you if I've written one good word of him. "

"You've written of the treatment he has received here, " she began, "andI've been able to see what he has borne--and bears!"

"But have I written one word to show that he didn't deserve it all?Haven't I told you everything, of his associates, his--"

"Indeed you have!"

"Then do you wonder that I was more surprised than most when I saw youwalking with him to-day? Because I knew you did it in cold blood andknowledge aforethought! Other folks thought it was because you hadn'tbeen here long enough to hear his reputation, but I KNEW!"

"Tell me, " she said, "if you were disappointed when you saw me withhim. "

"Yes, " he snapped. "I was!"

"I thought so. I saw the consternation in your face! You APPROVED, didn't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Yes, you do! I know it bothers you to have me read you between thelines, but for this once you must let me. You are so consistent thatyou are never disappointed when things turn out badly, or people arewicked or foolish, are you?"

"No, certainly not. I expect it. "

"And you were disappointed in me to-day. Therefore, it must be that Iwas doing something you knew was right and good. You see?" She leaneda little closer to him, smiling angelically. "Ah, Mr. Arp, " she cried, "I know your secret: you ADMIRE me!"

He rose, confused and incoherent, as full of denial as a detectedpickpocket. "I DON'T! Me ADMIRE? WHAT? It's an ornery world, " heprotested. "I don't admire any human that ever lived!"

"Yes, you do, " she persisted. "I've just proved it! But that is theleast of your secret; the great thing is this: YOU ADMIRE MR. LOUDEN!"

"I never heard such nonsense, " he continued to protest, at the sametime moving down the walk toward the gate, leaning heavily on hisstick. "Nothin' of the kind. There ain't any LOGIC to that kind of anargument, nor no REASON!"

"You see, I understand you, " she called after him. "I'm sorry you goaway in the bitterness of being found out. "

"Found out!" His stick ceased for a moment to tap the cement. "Pooh!"he ejaculated, uneasily. There was a pause, followed by a malevolentchuckle. "At any rate, " he said, with joy in the afterthought, "you'llnever go walkin' with him AGAIN!"

He waited for the answer, which came, after a time, sadly. "Perhapsyou are right. Perhaps I shall not. "

"Ha, I thought so! Good-night. "

"Good-night, Mr. Arp. "

She turned toward the lighted house. Through the windows nearest hershe could see Mamie, seated in the familiar chair, following with happyand tender eyes the figure of Eugene, who was pacing up and down theroom. The town was deadly quiet: Ariel could hear the sound offootsteps perhaps a block away. She went to the gate and gazed a longtime into the empty street, watching the yellow grains of light, sievedthrough the maples from the arc lights on the corner, moving to and froin the deep shadow as the lamp swung slightly in the night air. Somewhere, not far away, the peace was broken by the screams of a"parlor organ, " which honked and wailed in pious agonies (the intentionwas hymnal), interminably protracting each spasm. Presently a woman'svoice outdid the organ, a voice which made vivid the picture of thewoman who owned it, and the ploughed forehead of her, above thenose-glasses, when the "grace-notes" were proudly given birth. "Rescuethe Perishing" was the startlingly appropriate selection, rendered withinconceivable lingering upon each syllable: "Roos-cyoo thePoor-oosh-oong!" At unexpected intervals two male voices, evidentlybelonging to men who had contracted the habit of holding tin in theirmouths, joined the lady in a thorough search for the Lost Chord. 

That was the last of silence in Canaan for an hour or so. The organwas merely inaugural: across the street a piano sounded; firm, emphatic, determined, vocal competition with the instrument here also;"Rock of Ages" the incentive. Another piano presently followed suit, in a neighboring house: "Precious Jewels. " More distant, a secondorgan was heard; other pianos, other organs, took up other themes; andas a wakeful puppy's barking will go over a village at night, stirringfirst the nearer dogs to give voice, these in turn stimulating thosefarther away to join, one passing the excitement on to another, untilhounds in farm-yards far beyond the town contribute to thelong-distance conversation, even so did "Rescue the Perishing" enliventhe greater part of Canaan. 

It was this that made Ariel realize a thing of which hitherto she hadnot been able to convince herself: that she was actually once more inthe town where she had spent her long-ago girlhood; now grown to seemthe girlhood of some other person. It was true: her foot was on hernative heath and her name was Ariel Tabor--the very name of the girlwho had shared the town's disapproval with Joe Louden! "Rescue thePerishing" brought it all back to her; and she listened to thesesharply familiar rites of the Canaanite Sabbath evening with a shiverof pain. 

She turned from the gate to go into the house, heard Eugene's voice atthe door, and paused. He was saying good-night to Mamie. 

"And please say 'au revoir' to Miss Tabor for me, " he added, peeringout under his hand. "I don't know where she can have gone. "

"Probably she came in and went to her room, " said Mamie. 

"Don't forget to tell her 'au revoir. '"

"I won't, dear. Good-night. "

"Good-night. " She lifted her face and he kissed her perfunctorily. Then he came down the steps and went slowly toward the gate, lookingabout him into the darkness as if searching for something; but Arielhad fled away from the path of light that led from the open door. 

She skimmed noiselessly across the lawn and paused at the side of thehouse, leaning against the veranda, where, on a night long past, a boyhad hid and a girl had wept. A small creaking sound fell upon her ear, and she made out an ungainly figure approaching, wheeling something ofcurious shape. 

"Is that you, Sam?" she said. 

Mr. Warden stopped, close by. "Yes'm, " he replied. "I'm a-gittin' outde hose to lay de dus' yonnah. " He stretched an arm along thecross-bar of the reel, relaxing himself, apparently, for conversation. "Y'all done change consid'able, Miss Airil, " he continued, with thedirectness of one sure of privilege. 

"You think so, Sam?"

"Yes'm. Ev'ybody think so, _I_ reckon. Be'n a tai'ble lot o' talkum'bout you to-day. Dun'no' how all dem oth' young ladies goin' takeit!" He laughed with immoderate delight, yet, as to the volume of meresound, discreetly, with an eye to open windows. "You got 'em all beat, Miss Airil! Dey ain' be'n no one 'roun' dis town evah got in a thousummile o' you! Fer looks, an' de way you walk an' ca'y yo'self; an' asfer de clo'es--name o' de good lan', honey, dey ain' nevah SEE stylebefo'! My ole woman say you got mo' fixin's in a minute dan de wholeres' of 'em got in a yeah. She say when she helpin' you onpack shemust 'a' see mo'n a hunerd paihs o' slippahs alone! An' de good Manknows I 'membuh w'en you runnin' roun' back-yods an' up de alleyrompin' 'ith Joe Louden, same you's a boy!"

"Do you ever see Mr. Louden, nowadays?" she asked. 

His laugh was repeated with the same discreet violence. "Ain' I seenhim dis ve'y day, fur up de street at de gate yonnah, stan'in' 'ithyou, w'en I drivin' de Judge?"

"You--you didn't happen to see him anywhere this--this afternoon?"

"No'm, I ain' SEE him. " Sam's laughter vanished and his lowered voicebecame serious. "I ain' SEE him, but I hearn about him. "

"What did you hear?"

"Dey be'n consid'able stir on de aidge o' town, I reckon, " he answered, gravely, "an' dey be'n havin' some trouble out at de Beach--"

"Beaver Beach, do you mean?"

"Yes'm. Dey be'n some shootin' goin' on out dat way. "

She sprang forward and caught at his arm without speaking. 

"Joe Louden all right, " he said, reassuringly. "Ain' nuffum happen tohim! Nigh as I kin mek out f'm de TALK, dat Happy Fear gone on deramPAGE ag'in, an' dey hatta sent fer Mist' Louden to come in a hurry. "

XIV

WHITE ROSES IN A LAW-OFFICE

As upon a world canopied with storm, hung with mourning purple andhabited in black, did Mr. Flitcroft turn his morning face at eighto'clock antemeridian Monday, as he hied himself to his daily duty atthe Washington National Bank. Yet more than the merely funerealgloomed out from the hillocky area of his countenance. Was there not, i'faith, a glow, a Vesuvian shimmer, beneath the murk of that darklingeye? Was here one, think you, to turn the other cheek? Little has helearned of Norbert Flitcroft who conceives that this fiery spirit waseasily to be quenched! Look upon the jowl of him, and let him whodares maintain that people--even the very Pikes themselves--were togrind beneath their brougham wheels a prostrate Norbert and ride onscatheless! In this his own metaphor is nearly touched "I guess not!They don't run over ME! Martin Pike better look out how he tries it!"

So Mother Nature at her kindly tasks, good Norbert, uses for herunguent our own perfect inconsistency: and often when we are stabbeddeep in the breast she distracts us by thin scratches in other parts, that in the itch of these we may forget the greater hurt till it behealed. Thus, the remembrance of last night, when you undisguisedlyran from the wrath of a Pike, with a pretty girl looking on (to saynothing of the acrid Arp, who will fling the legend on a thousandwinds), might well agonize you now, as, in less hasty moments and at asafe distance, you brood upon the piteous figure you cut. On thecontrary, behold: you see no blood crimsoning the edges of the horridgash in your panoply of self-esteem: you but smart and scratch thescratches, forgetting your wound in the hot itch for vengeance. It isan itch which will last (for in such matters your temper shall besteadfast), and let the great Goliath in the mean time beware of you!You ran, last night. You ran--of course you ran. Why not? You ran tofight another day!

A bank clerk sometimes has opportunities. 

The stricken fat one could not understand how it came about that he hadblurted out the damning confession that he had visited Beaver Beach. When he tried to solve the puzzle, his mind refused the strain, becamefoggy and the terrors of his position acute. Was he, like Joe Louden, to endure the ban of Canaan, and like him stand excommunicate beyondthe pale because of Martin Pike's displeasure? For Norbert saw withperfect clearness to-day what the Judge had done for Joe. Now that hestood in danger of a fate identical, this came home to him. How manyothers, he wondered, would do as Mamie had done and write notes such ashe had received by the hand of Sam Warden, late last night?

"DEAR SIR. " (This from Mamie, who, in the Canaanitish way, had beenwont to address him as "Norb"!)--"My father wishes me to state thatafter your remark yesterday afternoon on the steps which was overheardby my mother who happened to be standing in the hall behind you andyour BEHAVIOR to himself later on--he considers it impossible to allowyou to call any more or to speak to any member of his household. 

 "Yours respectfully, "MAMIE PIKE. "

Erasures and restorations bore witness to a considerable doubt inMamie's mind concerning "Yours respectfully, " but she had finally letit stand, evidently convinced that the plain signature, withoutpreface, savored of an intimacy denied by the context. 

"'DEAR SIR'!" repeated Norbert, between set teeth. "'IMPOSSIBLE TOALLOW YOU TO CALL any more'!" These and other terms of his dismissalrecurred to him during the morning, and ever and anon he looked up fromhis desk, his lips moving to the tune of those horrid phrases, andstared out at the street. Basilisk glaring this, with no Christiansoftness in it, not even when it fell upon his own grandfather, sittingamong the sages within easy eye-shot from the big window at Norbert'selbow. However, Colonel Flitcroft was not disturbed by the gaze of hisdescendant, being, in fact, quite unaware of it. The aged men werehaving a busy morning. 

The conclave was not what it had been. [See Arp and all his works. ]There had come, as the years went by, a few recruits; but faces weremissing: the two Tabors had gone, and Uncle Joe Davey could no longerlay claim to the patriarchship; he had laid it down with a half-sighand gone his way. Eskew himself was now the oldest of the conscriptfathers, the Colonel and Squire Buckalew pressing him closely, withPeter Bradbury no great time behind. 

To-day they did not plant their feet upon the brass rail inside thehotel windows, but courted the genial weather out-doors, and, as theirsummer custom was, tilted back their chairs in the shade of the westernwall of the building. 

"And who could of dreamed, " Mr. Bradbury was saying, with a side-glanceof expectancy at Eskew, "that Jonas Tabor would ever turn out to have aniece like that!"

Mr. Arp ceased to fan himself with his wide straw hat and said grimly:

"I don't see as Jonas HAS 'turned out'--not in particular! If he'sturned at all, lately, I reckon it's in his grave, and I'll bet he HASif he had any way of hearin' how much she must of spent for clothes!"

"I believe, " Squire Buckalew began, "that young folks' memories areshort. "

"They're lucky!" interjected Eskew. "The shorter your memory the lessmeanness you know. "

"I meant young folks don't remember as well as older people do, "continued the Squire. "I don't see what's so remarkable in her comin'back and walkin' up-street with Joe Louden. She used to go kitin'round with him all the time, before she left here. And yet everybodytalks as if they never HEARD of sech a thing!"

"It seems to me, " said Colonel Flitcroft, hesitatingly, "that she didright. I know it sounds kind of a queer thing to say, and I stirred upa good deal of opposition at home, yesterday evening, by sort ofmentioning something of the kind. Nobody seemed to agree with me, except Norbert, and he didn't SAY much, but--"

He was interrupted by an uncontrollable cackle which issued from themouth of Mr. Arp. The Colonel turned upon him with a frown, inquiringthe cause of his mirth. 

"It put me in mind, " Mr. Arp began promptly, "of something thathappened last night. "

"What was it?"

Eskew's mouth was open to tell, but he remembered, just in time, thatthe grandfather of Norbert was not the audience properly to be selectedfor this recital, choked a half-born word, coughed loudly, realizingthat he must withhold the story of the felling of Martin Pike until theColonel had taken his departure, and replied:

"Nothin' to speak of. Go on with your argument. "

"I've finished, " said the Colonel. "I only wanted to say that it seemsto me a good action for a young lady like that to come back here andstick to her old friend and playmate. "

"STICK to him!" echoed Mr. Arp. "She walked up Main Street with himyesterday. Do you call that stickin' to him? She's been away a goodwhile; she's forgotten what Canaan IS. You wait till she sees forherself jest what his standing in this com--"

"I agree with Eskew for once, " interrupted Peter Bradbury. "I agreebecause--"

"Then you better wait, " cried Eskew, allowing him to proceed nofarther, "till you hear what you're agreein' to! I say: you take ayoung lady like that, pretty and rich and all cultured up, and itstands to reason that she won't--"

"No, it don't, " exclaimed Buckalew, impatiently. "Nothing of the sort!I tell you--"

Eskew rose to his feet and pounded the pavement with his stick. "Itstands to reason that she won't stick to a man no other decent womanwill speak to, a feller that's been the mark for every stone throwed inthe town, ever since he was a boy, an outcast with a reputation asblack as a preacher's shoes on Sunday! I don't care if he's her oldestfriend on EARTH, she won't stick to him! She walked with himyesterday, but you can mark my words: his goose is cooked!" The oldman's voice rose, shrill and high. "It ain't in human nature fer herto do it! You hear what I say: you'll never see her with Joe Loudenagain in this livin' world, and she as good as told me so, herself, last night. You can take your oath she's quit him already! Don't--"

Eskew paused abruptly, his eyes widening behind his spectacles; his jawfell; his stick, raised to hammer the pavement, remained suspended inthe air. A sudden color rushed over his face, and he droppedspeechless in his chair. The others, after staring at him in momentaryalarm, followed the direction of his gaze. 

Just across Main Street, and in plain view, was the entrance to thestairway which led to Joe's office. Ariel Tabor, all in cool gray, carrying a big bunch of white roses in her white-gloved hands, had justcrossed the sidewalk from a carriage and was ascending the darkstairway. A moment later she came down again, empty-handed, got intothe carriage, and drove away. 

"She missed him, " said Squire Buckalew. "I saw him go out half an hourago. BUT, " he added, and, exercising a self-restraint close upon thesaintly, did not even glance toward the heap which was Mr. Arp, "Inotice she left her flowers!"

Ariel was not the only one who climbed the dingy stairs that day andread the pencilled script upon Joe's door: "Will not return untilevening. J. Louden. " Many others came, all exceedingly unlike thefirst visitor: some were quick and watchful, dodging into the narrowentrance furtively; some smiled contemptuously as long as they were inview of the street, drooping wanly as they reached the stairs: somewere brazen and amused; and some were thin and troubled. Not all ofthem read the message, for not all could read, but all looked curiouslythrough the half-opened door at the many roses which lifted their headsdelicately from a water-pitcher on Joe's desk to scent that dusty placewith their cool breath. 

Most of these clients, after a grunt of disappointment, turned and wentaway; though there were a few, either unable to read the message or sopressed by anxiety that they disregarded it, who entered the room andsat down to wait for the absentee. [There were plenty of chairs in theoffice now, bookcases also, and a big steel safe. ] But when eveningcame and the final gray of twilight had vanished from the window-panes, all had gone except one, a woman who sat patiently, her eyes upon thefloor, and her hands folded in her lap, until the footsteps of the lastof the others to depart had ceased to sound upon the pavement below. Then, with a wordless exclamation, she sprang to her feet, pulled thewindow-shade carefully down to the sill, and, when she had done that, struck a match on the heel of her shoe--a soiled white canvas shoe, nota small one--and applied the flame to a gas jet. The yellow lightflared up; and she began to pace the room haggardly. 

The court-house bell rang nine, and as the tremors following the laststroke pulsed themselves into silence, she heard a footfall on thestairs and immediately relapsed into a chair, folding her hands againin her lap, her expression composing itself to passivity, for the stepwas very much lighter than Joe's. 

A lady beautifully dressed in white dimity appeared in the doorway. She hesitated at the threshold, not, apparently, because of anytimidity (her expression being too thoughtfully assured for that), butalmost immediately she came in and seated herself near the desk, acknowledging the other's presence by a slight inclination of the head. 

This grave courtesy caused a strong, deep flush to spread itself underthe rouge which unevenly covered the woman's cheeks, as she bowedelaborately in return. Then, furtively, during a protracted silence, she took stock of the new-comer, from the tip of her white suede shoesto the filmy lace and pink roses upon her wide white hat; and thesidelong gaze lingered marvellingly upon the quiet, delicate hands, slender and finely expressive, in their white gloves. 

Her own hands, unlike the lady's, began to fidget confusedly, and, thesilence continuing, she coughed several times, to effect the prefacerequired by her sense of fitness, before she felt it proper to observe, with a polite titter:

"Mr. Louden seems to be a good while comin'. "

"Have you been waiting very long?" asked the lady. 

"Ever since six o'clock!"

"Yes, " said the other. "That is very long. "

"Yes, ma'am, it cert'nly is. " The ice thus broken, she felt free touse her eyes more directly, and, after a long, frank stare, exclaimed:

"Why, you must be Miss Ariel Tabor, ain't you?"

"Yes. " Ariel touched one of the roses upon Joe's desk with herfinger-tips. "I am Miss Tabor. "

"Well, excuse me fer asking; I'm sure it ain't any business of mine, "said the other, remembering the manners due one lady from another. "But I thought it must be. I expect, " she added, with loud, inconsequent laughter, "there's not many in Canaan ain't heard you'vecome back. " She paused, laughed again, nervously, and again, lessloudly, to take off the edge of her abruptness: gradually titteringherself down to a pause, to fill which she put forth: "Right niceweather we be'n havin'. "

"Yes, " said Ariel. 

"It was rainy, first of last week, though. _I_ don't mind rain somuch"--this with more laughter, --"I stay in the house when it rains. Some people don't know enough to, they say! You've heard that saying, ain't you, Miss Tabor?"

"Yes. "

"Well, I tell YOU, " she exclaimed, noisily, "there's plenty ladies andgen'lemen in this town that's like that!"

Her laughter did not cease; it became louder and shriller. It hadbeen, until now, a mere lubrication of the conversation, helping tomake her easier in Miss Tabor's presence, but as it increased inshrillness, she seemed to be losing control of herself, as if herlaughter were getting away with her; she was not far from hysteria, when it stopped with a gasp, and she sat up straight in her chair, white and rigid. 

"THERE!" she said, listening intently. "Ain't that him?" Stepssounded upon the pavement below; paused for a second at the foot of thestairs; there was the snap of a match; then the steps sounded again, retreating. She sank back in her chair limply. "It was only some onestoppin' to light his cigar in the entry. It wasn't Joe Louden's step, anyway. "

"You know his step?" Ariel's eyes were bent upon the woman wonderingly. 

"I'd know it to-night, " was the answer, delivered with a sharp andpainful giggle. "I got plenty reason to!"

Ariel did not respond. She leaned a little closer to the roses uponthe desk, letting them touch her face, and breathing deeply of theirfragrance to neutralize a perfume which pervaded the room; an odor asheavy and cheap-sweet as the face of the woman who had saturated herhandkerchief with it, a scent which went with her perfectly and madeher unhappily definite; suited to her clumsily dyed hair, to her soiledwhite shoes, to the hot red hat smothered in plumage, to the restlessstub-fingered hands, to the fat, plated rings, of which she wore agreat quantity, though, surprisingly enough, the large diamonds in herears were pure, and of a very clear water. 

It was she who broke the silence once more. "Well, " she drawled, coughing genteelly at the same time, "better late than never, as thesaying is. I wonder who it is gits up all them comical sayings?"Apparently she had no genuine desire for light upon this mystery, asshe continued, immediately: "I have a gen'leman friend that's alwaysgittin' 'em off. 'Well, ' he says, 'the best of friends must part, 'and, 'Thou strikest me to the heart'--all kinds of cracks like that. He's real comical. And yet, " she went on in an altered voice, "I don'tlike him much. I'd be glad if I'd never seen him. "

The change of tone was so marked that Ariel looked at her keenly, tofind herself surprised into pitying this strange client of Joe's; fortears had sprung to the woman's eyes and slid along the lids, where shetried vainly to restrain them. Her face had altered too, like hervoice, haggard lines suddenly appearing about the eyes and mouth as ifthey had just been pencilled there: the truth issuing from beneath herpinchbeck simulations, like a tragic mask revealed by the displacementof a tawdry covering. 

"I expect you think I'm real foolish, " she said, "but I be'n waitin' soawful long--and I got a good deal of worry on my mind till I see Mr. Louden. "

"I am sorry, " Ariel turned from the roses, and faced her and the heavyperfume. "I hope he will come soon. "

"I hope so, " said the other. "It's something to do with me that keepshim away, and the longer he is the more it scares me. " She shiveredand set her teeth together. "It's kind of hard, waitin'. I cert'nlygot my share of troubles. "

"Don't you think that Mr. Louden will be able to take care of them foryou?"

"Oh, I HOPE so, Miss Tabor! If he can't, nobody can. " She was cryingopenly now, wiping her eyes with her musk-soaked handkerchief. "We hadto send fer him yesterday afternoon--"

"To come to Beaver Beach, do you mean?" asked Ariel, leaning forward. 

"Yes, ma'am. It all begun out there, --least-ways it begun before thatwith me. It was all my fault. I deserve all that's comin' to me, Iguess. I done wrong--I done wrong! I'd oughtn't never to of went outthere yesterday. "

She checked herself sharply, but, after a moment's pause, continued, encouraged by the grave kindliness of the delicate face in the shadowof the wide white hat. "I'd oughtn't to of went, " she repeated. "Oh, I reckon I'll never, never learn enough to keep out o' trouble, evenwhen I see it comin'! But that gentleman friend of mine--Mr. NashvilleCory's his name--he kind o' coaxed me into it, and he's right comicalwhen he's with ladies, and he's good company--and he says, 'Claudine, we'll dance the light fantastic, ' he says, and I kind o' wantedsomething cheerful--I'd be'n workin' steady quite a spell, and itlooked like he wanted to show me a good time, so I went, and that'swhat started it. " Now that she had begun, she babbled on with herstory, at times incoherently; full of excuses, made to herself morethan to Ariel, pitifully endeavoring to convince herself that theresponsibility for the muddle she had made was not hers. 

"Mr. Cory told me my husband was drinkin' and wouldn't know about it, and, 'Besides, ' he says, 'what's the odds?' Of course I knowed therewas trouble between him and Mr. Fear--that's my husband--a good whileago, when Mr. Fear up and laid him out. That was before me and Mr. Fear got married; I hadn't even be'n to Canaan then; I was on thestage. I was on the stage quite a while in Chicago before I gotacquainted with my husband. "

"You were on the stage?" Ariel exclaimed, involuntarily. 

"Yes, ma'am. Livin' pitchers at Goldberg's Rat'skeller, and amunchoornights I nearly always done a sketch with a gen'leman friend. That'sthe way I met Mr. Fear; he seemed to be real struck with me right away, and soon as I got through my turn he ast me to order whatever I wanted. He's always gen'lemanlike when he ain't had too much, and even then hevurry, vurry seldom acks rough unless he's jealous. That was thetrouble yesterday. I never would of gone to the Beach if I'd dreamedwhat was comin'! When we got there I saw Mike--that's the gen'lemanthat runs the Beach--lookin' at my company and me kind of anxious, andpretty soon he got me away from Mr. Cory and told me what's what. Seems this Cory only wanted me to go with him to make my husband mad, and he'd took good care that Mr. Fear heard I'd be there with him! Andhe'd be'n hangin' around me, every time he struck town, jest to makeMr. Fear mad--the fresh thing! You see he wanted to make my husbandstart something again, this Mr. Cory did, and he was fixed for it. "

"I don't understand, " said Ariel. 

"It's this way: if Mr. Fear attacted Mr. Cory, why, Mr. Cory couldshoot him down and claim self-defence. You see, it would be easy forMr. Cory, because Mr Fear nearly killed him when they had their firsttrouble, and that would give Mr. Cory a good excuse to shoot if Mr. Fear jest only pushed him. That's the way it is with the law. Mr. Cory could wipe out their old score and git off scot-free. "

"Surely not!"

"Yes, ma'am, that's the way it would be. And when Mike told me thatMr. Cory had got me out there jest to provoke my husband I wentstraight up to him and begun to give him a piece of my mind. I didn'ttalk loud, because I never was one to make a disturbance and starttrouble the way SOME do; and right while I was talkin' we both see myhusband pass the window. Mr. Cory give a kind of yelling laugh and puthis arm round me jest as Mr. Fear come in the door. And then it allhappened so quick that you could hardly tell what WAS goin' on. Mr. Fear, we found afterwards, had promised Mr. Louden that he wouldn'tcome out there, but he took too much--you could see that by the look ofhim--and fergot his promise; fergot everything but me and Cory, I guess. 

"He come right up to us, where I was tryin' to git away from Cory'sarm--it was the left one he had around me, and the other behind hisback--and neither of 'em said a word. Cory kept on laughin' loud as hecould, and Mr. Fear struck him in the mouth. He's little, but he canhit awful hard, and Mr. Cory let out a screech, and I see his gun gooff--right in Mr. Fear's face, I thought, but it wasn't; it onlyscorched him. Most of the other gen'lemen had run, but Mike made adive and managed to knock the gun to one side, jest barely in time. Then Mike and three or four others that come out from behind thingsseparated 'em--both of 'em fightin' to git at each other. They lockedMr. Cory up in Mike's room, and took Mr. Fear over to where they hitchthe horses. Then Mike sent fer Mr. Louden to come out to talk to myhusband and take care of him--he's the only one can do anything withhim when he's like that--but before Mr. Louden could git there, Mr. Fear broke loose and run through a corn-field and got away; at leastthey couldn't find him. And Mr. Cory jumped through a window and sliddown into one of Mike's boats, so they'd both gone. When Mr. Loudencome, he only stayed long enough to hear what had happened and startedout to find Happy--that's my husband. He's bound to keep them apart, but he hasn't found Mr. Fear yet or he'd be here. "

Ariel had sunk back in her chair. "Why should your husband hide?" sheasked, in a low voice. 

"Waitin' fer his chance at Cory, " the woman answered, huskily. "Iexpect he's afraid the cops are after him, too, on account of thetrouble, and he doesn't want to git locked up till he's met Cory again. They ain't after him, but he may not know it. They haven't heard ofthe trouble, I reckon, or they'd of run Cory in. HE'S around townto-day, drinkin' heavy, and I guess he's lookin' fer Mr. Fear about ashard as Mr. Louden is. " She rose to her feet, lifted her coarse hands, and dropped them despairingly. "Oh, I'm scared!" she said. "Mr. Fear's be'n mighty good to me. "

A slow and tired footstep was heard upon the stairs, and Joe's dog raninto the room droopingly, wagged his tail with no energy, and creptunder the desk. Mrs. Fear wheeled toward the door and stood, rigid, her hands clenched tight, her whole body still, except her breast, which rose and fell with her tumultuous breathing. She could not waittill the laggard step reached the landing. 

"MR. LOUDEN!" she called, suddenly. 

Joe's voice came from the stairway. "It's all right, Claudine. It'sall fixed up. Don't worry. "

Mrs. Fear gave a thick cry of relief and sank back in her chair as Joeentered the room. He came in shamblingly, with his hand over his eyesas if they were very tired and the light hurt them, so that, for amoment or two, he did not perceive the second visitor. Then he let hishand fall, revealing a face very white and worn. 

"It's all right, Claudine, " he repeated. "It's all right. "

He was moving to lay his hat on the desk when his eye caught first theroses, then fell upon Ariel, and he stopped stock-still with one armoutstretched, remaining for perhaps ten seconds in that attitude, whileshe, her lips parted, her eyes lustrous, returned his gaze with a lookthat was as inscrutable as it was kind. 

"Yes, " she said, as if in answer to a question, "I have come here twiceto-day. " She nodded slightly toward Mrs. Fear. "I can wait. I amvery glad you bring good news. "

Joe turned dazedly toward the other. "Claudine, " he said, "you've beentelling Miss Tabor. "

"I cert'nly have!" Mrs. Fear's expression had cleared and her tone wascheerful. "I don't see no harm in that! I'm sure she's a good friendof YOURS, Mr. Louden. "

Joe glanced at Ariel with a faint, troubled smile, and turned again toMrs. Fear. "I've had a long talk with Happy. "

"I'm awful glad. Is he ready to listen to reason? she asked, with atitter. 

"He's waiting for you. "

"Where?" She rose quickly. 

"Stop, " said Joe, sharply. "You must be very careful with him--"

"Don't you s'pose I'm goin' to be?" she interrupted, with a catch inher voice. "Don't you s'pose I've had trouble enough?"

"No, " said Joe, deliberately and impersonally, "I don't. Unless youkeep remembering to be careful all the time, you'll follow the firstimpulse you have, as you did yesterday, and your excuse will be thatyou never thought any harm would come of it. He's in a queer mood; buthe will forgive you if you ask him--"

"Well, ain't that what I WANT to do!" she exclaimed. 

"I know, I know, " he said, dropping into the desk-chair and passing hishand over his eyes with a gesture of infinite weariness. "But you mustbe very careful. I hunted for him most of the night and all day. Hewas trying to keep out of my way because he didn't want me to find himuntil he had met this fellow Nashville. Happy is a hard man to come atwhen he doesn't care to be found, and he kept shifting from place toplace until I ran him down. Then I got him in a corner and told himthat you hadn't meant any harm--which is always true of you, poorwoman!--and I didn't leave him till he had promised me to forgive youif you would come and ask him. And you must keep him out of Cory's wayuntil I can arrange to have him--Cory, I mean--sent out of town. Willyou?"

"Why, cert'nly, " she answered, smiling. "That Nashville's the vurrylast person I ever want to see again--the fresh thing!" Mrs. Fear'sburden had fallen; her relief was perfect and she beamed vapidly; butJoe marked her renewed irresponsibility with an anxious eye. 

"You mustn't make any mistakes, " he said, rising stiffly with fatigue. 

"Not ME! _I_ don't take no more chances, " she responded, titteringhappily. "Not after yesterday. MY! but it's a load off my shoulders!I do hate it to have gen'lemen quarrelling over me, especially Mr. Fear. I never DID like to START anything; I like to see people laughand be friendly, and I'm mighty glad it's all blown over. I kind o'thought it would, all along. PSHO!" She burst into genuine, noisylaughter. "I don't expect either of 'em meant no real harm to eachother, after they got cooled off a little! If they'd met to-day, they'd probably both run! Now, Mr. Louden, where's Happy?"

Joe went to the door with her. He waited a moment, perplexed, then hisbrow cleared and he said in a low voice: "You know the alley beyondVent Miller's pool-room? Go down the alley till you come to the secondgate. Go in, and you'll see a basement door opening into a little roomunder Miller's bar. The door won't be locked, and Happy's in therewaiting for you. But remember--"

"Oh, don't you worry, " she cut him off, loudly. "I know HIM! Inside ofan hour I'll have him LAUGHIN' over all this. You'll see!"

When she had gone, he stood upon the landing looking thoughtfully afterher. "Perhaps, after all, that is the best mood to let her meet himin, " he murmured. 

Then, with a deep breath, he turned. The heavy perfume had gone; theair was clear and sweet, and Ariel was pressing her face into the rosesagain. As he saw how like them she was, he was shaken with a profoundand mysterious sigh, like that which moves in the breast of one wholistens in the dark to his dearest music. 

XV

HAPPY FEAR GIVES HIMSELF UP

"I know how tired you are, " said Ariel, as he came back into the room. "I shall not keep you long. "

"Ah, please do!" he returned, quickly, beginning to fumble with theshade of a student-lamp at one end of the desk. 

"Let me do that, " she said. "Sit down. " He obeyed at once, andwatched her as she lit the lamp, and, stretching upon tiptoe, turnedout the gas. "No, " she continued, seated again and looking across thedesk at him, "I wanted to see you at the first possible opportunity, but what I have to say--"

"Wait, " he interrupted. "Let me tell you why I did not come yesterday. "

"You need not tell me. I know. " She glanced at the chair which hadbeen occupied by Mrs. Fear. "I knew last night that they had sent foryou. "

"You did?" he exclaimed. "Ah, I understand. Sam Warden must have toldyou. "

"Yes, " she said. "It was he; and I have been wondering ever since howhe heard of it. He knew last night, but there was nothing in thepapers this morning; and until I came here I heard no one else speak ofit; yet Canaan is not large. "

Joe laughed. "It wouldn't seem strange if you lived with the Canaanthat I do. Sam had been down-town during the afternoon and had metfriends; the colored people are a good deal like a freemasonry, youknow. A great many knew last night all about what had happened, andhad their theories about what might happen to-day in case the two menmet. Still, you see, those who knew, also knew just what people not totell. The Tocsin is the only newspaper worth the name here; but evenif the Tocsin had known of the trouble, it wouldn't have been likely tomention it. That's a thing I don't understand. " He frowned and rubbedthe back of his head. "There's something underneath it. For more thana year the Tocsin hasn't spoken of Beaver Beach. I'd like to know why. "

"Joe, " she said, slowly, "tell me something truly. A man said to meyesterday that he found life here insufferable. Do you find it so?"

"Why, no!" he answered, surprised. 

"Do you hate Canaan?"

"Certainly not. "

"You don't find it dull, provincial, unsympathetic?"

He laughed cheerily. "Well, there's this, " he explained: "I have anadvantage over your friend. I see a more interesting side of thingsprobably. The people I live among are pretty thorough cosmopolites in away, and the life I lead--"

"I think I begin to understand a little about the life you lead, " sheinterrupted. "Then you don't complain of Canaan?"

"Of course not. "

She threw him a quick, bright, happy look, then glanced again at thechair in which Mrs. Fear had sat. "Joe, " she said, "last night I heardthe people singing in the houses, the old Sunday-evening way. It 'tookme back so'!"

"Yes, it would. And something else: there's one hymn they sing morethan any other; it's Canaan's favorite. Do you know what it is?"

"Is it 'Rescue the Perishing'?"

"That's it. 'Rescue the Perishing'!" he cried, and repeating the wordsagain, gave forth a peal of laughter so hearty that it brought tears tohis eyes. "'RESCUE THE PERISHING'!"

At first she did not understand his laughter, but, after a moment, shedid, and joined her own to it, though with a certain tremulousness. 

"It IS funny, isn't it?" said Joe, wiping the moisture from his eyes. Then all trace of mirth left him. "Is it really YOU, sitting here andlaughing with me, Ariel?"

"It seems to be, " she answered, in a low voice. "I'm not at all sure. "

"You didn't think, yesterday afternoon, " he began, almost in awhisper, --"you didn't think that I had failed to come because I--" Hegrew very red, and shifted the sentence awkwardly: "I was afraid youmight think that I was--that I didn't come because I might have beenthe same way again that I was when--when I met you at the station?"

"Oh no!" she answered, gently. "No. I knew better. "

"And do you know, " he faltered, "that that is all over? That it cannever happen again?"

"Yes, I know it, " she returned, quickly. 

"Then you know a little of what I owe you. "

"No, no, " she protested. 

"Yes, " he said. "You've made that change in me already. It wasn'thard--it won't be--though it might have been if--if you hadn't comesoon. "

"Tell me something, " she demanded. "If these people had not sent foryou yesterday, would you have come to Judge Pike's house to see me?You said you would try. " She laughed a little, and looked away fromhim. "I want to know if you would have come. "

There was a silence, and in spite of her averted glance she knew thathe was looking at her steadily. Finally, "Don't you know?" he said. 

She shook her head and blushed faintly. 

"Don't you know?" he repeated. 

She looked up and met his eyes, and thereupon both became very grave. "Yes, I do, " she answered. "You would have come. When you left me atthe gate and went away, you were afraid. But you would have come. "

"Yes, --I'd have come. You are right. I was afraid at first; but Iknew, " he went on, rapidly, "that you would have come to the gate tomeet me. "

"You understood that?" she cried, her eyes sparkling and her faceflushing happily. 

"Yes. I knew that you wouldn't have asked me to come, " he said, with acatch in his voice which was half chuckle, half groan, "if you hadn'tmeant to take care of me! And it came to me that you would know how todo it. "

She leaned back in her chair, and again they laughed together, but onlyfor a moment, becoming serious and very quiet almost instantly. 

"I haven't thanked you for the roses, " he said. 

"Oh yes, you did. When you first looked at them!"

"So I did, " he whispered. "I'm glad you saw. To find them here took mybreath away--and to find you with them--"

"I brought them this morning, you know. "

"Would you have come if you had not understood why I failed yesterday?"

"Oh yes, I think so, " she returned, the fine edge of a smile upon herlips. "For a time last evening, before I heard what had happened, Ithought you were too frightened a friend to bother about. "

He made a little ejaculation, partly joyful, partly sad. 

"And yet, " she went on, "I think that I should have come this morning, after all, even if you had a poorer excuse for your absence, because, you see, I came on business. "

"You did?"

"That's why I've come again. That makes it respectable for me to behere now, doesn't it?--for me to have come out alone after dark withouttheir knowing it? I'm here as your client, Joe. "

"Why?" he asked. 

She did not answer at once, but picked up a pen from beneath her handon the desk, and turning it, meditatively felt its point with herforefinger before she said slowly, "Are most men careful of otherpeople's--well, of other people's money?"

"You mean Martin Pike?" he asked. 

"Yes. I want you to take charge of everything I have for me. "

He bent a frowning regard upon the lamp-shade. "You ought to look afteryour own property, " he said. "You surely have plenty of time. "

"You mean--you mean you won't help me?" she returned, with intentionalpathos. 

"Ariel!" he laughed, shortly, in answer; then asked, "What makes youthink Judge Pike isn't trustworthy?"

"Nothing very definite perhaps, unless it was his look when I told himthat I meant to ask you to take charge of things for me. "

"He's been rather hard pressed this year, I think, " said Joe. "Youmight be right--if he could have found a way. I hope he hasn't. "

"I'm afraid, " she began, gayly, "that I know very little of my ownaffairs. He sent me a draft every three months, with receipts andother things to sign and return to him. I haven't the faintest notionof what I own--except the old house and some money from the income thatI hadn't used and brought with me. Judge Pike has all thepapers--everything. "

Joe looked troubled. "And Roger Tabor, did he--"

"The dear man!" She shook her head. "He was just the same. To himpoor Uncle Jonas's money seemed to come from heaven through the handsof Judge Pike--"

"And there's a handsome roundabout way!" said Joe. 

"Wasn't it!" she agreed, cheerfully. "And he trusted the Judgeabsolutely. I don't, you see. "

He gave her a thoughtful look and nodded. "No, he isn't a good man, " hesaid, "not even according to his lights; but I doubt if he could havemanaged to get away with anything of consequence after he became theadministrator. He wouldn't have tried it, probably, unless he was moredesperately pushed than I think he has been. It would have been toodangerous. Suppose you wait a week or so and think it over. "

"But there's something I want you to do for me immediately, Joe. "

"What's that?"

"I want the old house put in order. I'm going to live there. "

"Alone?"

"I'm almost twenty-seven, and that's being enough of an old maid for meto risk Canaan's thinking me eccentric, isn't it?"

"It will think anything you do is all right. "

"And once, " she cried, "it thought everything I did all wrong!"

"Yes. That's the difference. "

"You mean it will commend me because I'm thought rich?"

"No, no, " he said, meditatively, "it isn't that. It's because everybodywill be in love with you. "

"Quite everybody!" she asked. 

"Certainly, " he replied. "Anybody who didn't would be absurd. "

"Ah, Joe!" she laughed. "You always were the nicest boy in the world, my dear!"

At that he turned toward her with a sudden movement and his lipsparted, but not to speak. She had rested one arm upon the desk, and hercheek upon her hand; the pen she had picked up, still absently held inher fingers, touching her lips; and it was given to him to know that hewould always keep that pen, though he would never write with it again. The soft lamplight fell across the lower part of her face, leaving hereyes, which were lowered thoughtfully, in the shadow of her hat. Theroom was blotted out in darkness behind her. Like the background of anantique portrait, the office, with its dusty corners and shelves andhideous safe, had vanished, leaving the charming and thoughtful facerevealed against an even, spacious brownness. Only Ariel and the rosesand the lamp were clear; and a strange, small pain moved from Joe'sheart to his throat, as he thought that this ugly office, always beforeso harsh and grim and lonely--loneliest for him when it had been mostcrowded, --was now transfigured into something very, very different froman office; that this place where he sat, with a lamp and flowers on adesk between him and a woman who called him "my dear, " must belike--like something that people called "home. "

And then he leaned across the desk toward her, as he said again what hehad said a little while before, --and his voice trembled:

"Ariel, it IS you?"

She looked at him and smiled. 

"You'll be here always, won't you? You're not going away from Canaanagain?"

For a moment it seemed that she had not heard him. Then her brightglance at him wavered and fell. She rose, turning slightly away fromhim, but not so far that he could not see the sudden agitation in herface. 

"Ah!" he cried, rising too, "I don't want you to think I don'tunderstand, or that I meant _I_ should ever ask you to stay here! Icouldn't mean that; you know I couldn't, don't you? You know Iunderstand that it's all just your beautiful friendliness, don't you?"

"It isn't beautiful; it's just ME, Joe, " she said. "It couldn't be anyother way. "

"It's enough that you should be here now, " he went on, bravely, hisvoice steady, though his hand shook. "Nothing so wonderful as yourstaying could ever actually happen. It's just a light coming into adark room and out again. One day, long ago--I never forgot it--someapple-blossoms blew by me as I passed an orchard; and it's like that, too. But, oh, my dear, when you go you'll leave a fragrance in myheart that will last!"

She turned toward him, her face suffused with a rosy light. "You'drather have died than have said that to me once, " she cried. "I'm gladyou're weak enough now to confess it!"

He sank down again into his chair and his arms fell heavily on thedesk. "Confess it!" he cried, despairingly. "And you don't deny thatyou're going away again--so it's true! I wish I hadn't realized it sosoon. I think I'd rather have tried to fool myself about it a littlelonger!"

"Joe, " she cried, in a voice of great pain, "you mustn't feel likethat! How do you know I'm going away again? Why should I want the oldhouse put in order unless I mean to stay? And if I went, you know thatI could never change; you know how I've always cared for you--"

"Yes, " he said, "I do know how. It was always the same and it alwayswill be, won't it?"

"I've shown that, " she returned, quickly. 

"Yes. You say I know how you've cared for me--and I do. I know HOW. It's just in one certain way--Jonathan and David--"

"Isn't that a pretty good way, Joe?"

"Never fear that I don't understand!" He got to his feet again andlooked at her steadily. 

"Thank you, Joe. " She wiped sudden tears from her eyes. 

"Don't you be sorry for me, " he said. "Do you think that 'passing thelove of women' isn't enough for me?"

"No, " she answered, humbly. 

"I'll have people at work on the old house to-morrow, " he began. "Andfor the--"

"I've kept you so long!" she interrupted, helped to a meek sort ofgayety by his matter-of-fact tone. "Good-night, Joe. " She gave him herhand. "I don't want you to come with me. It isn't very late and thisis Canaan. "

"I want to come with you, however, " he said, picking up his hat. "Youcan't go alone. "

"But you are so tired, you--"

She was interrupted. There were muffled, flying footsteps on thestairs, and a shabby little man ran furtively into the room, shut thedoor behind him, and set his back against it. His face was mottledlike a colored map, thick lines of perspiration shining across thesplotches. 

"Joe, " he panted, "I've got Nashville good, and he's got me good, too;--I got to clear out. He's fixed me good, damn him! but he won'ttrouble nobody--"

Joe was across the room like a flying shadow. 

"QUIET!" His voice rang like a shot, and on the instant his hand fellsharply across the speaker's mouth. "In THERE, Happy!"

He threw an arm across the little man's shoulders and swung him towardthe door of the other room. 

Happy Fear looked up from beneath the down-bent brim of his blackslouch hat; his eyes followed an imperious gesture toward Ariel, gaveher a brief, ghastly stare, and stumbled into the inner chamber. 

"Wait!" Joe said, cavalierly, to Ariel. He went in quickly after Mr. Fear and closed the door. 

This was Joseph Louden, Attorney-at-Law; and to Ariel it was like a newface seen in a flash-light--not at all the face of Joe. The sense ofhis strangeness, his unfamiliarity in this electrical aspect, overcameher. She was possessed by astonishment: Did she know him so well, after all? The strange client had burst in, shaken beyond belief withsome passion unknown to her, but Joe, alert, and masterful beyonddenial, had controlled him instantly; had swept him into the other roomas with a broom. Could it be that Joe sometimes did other things inthe same sweeping fashion?

She heard a match struck in the next room, and the voices of the twomen: Joe's, then the other's, the latter at first broken andprotestive, but soon rising shrilly. She could hear only fragments. Once she heard the client cry, almost scream: "By God! Joe, I thoughtClaudine had chased him around there to DO me!" And, instantly, followed Louden's voice:

"STEADY, HAPPY, STEADY!"

The name "Claudine" startled her; and although she had had nocomprehension of the argot of Happy Fear, the sense of a mysteriouscatastrophe oppressed her; she was sure that something horrible hadhappened. She went to the window; touched the shade, which disappearedupward immediately, and lifted the sash. The front of a squarebuilding in the Court-house Square was bright with lights; and figureswere passing in and out of the Main Street doors. She remembered thatthis was the jail. 

"Claudine!" The voice of the husband of Claudine was like the voice ofone lamenting over Jerusalem. 

"STEADY, HAPPY, STEADY!"

"But, Joe, if they git me, what'll she do? She can't hold her job nolonger--not after this. .. . "

The door opened, and the two men came out, Joe with his hand on theother's shoulder. The splotches had gone from Happy's face, leaving itan even, deathly white. He did not glance toward Ariel; he gazed farbeyond all that was about him; and suddenly she was aware of a greattragedy. The little man's chin trembled and he swallowed painfully;nevertheless he bore himself upright and dauntlessly as the two walkedslowly to the door, like men taking part in some fateful ceremony. Joestopped upon the landing at the head of the stairs, but Happy Fear wenton, clumping heavily down the steps. 

"It's all right, Happy, " said Joe. "It's better for you to go alone. Don't you worry. I'll see you through. It will be all right. "

"Just as YOU say, Joe, " a breaking voice came back from the foot of thesteps, --"just as YOU say!"

The lawyer turned from the landing and went rapidly to the windowbeside Ariel. Together they watched the shabby little figure cross thestreet below; and she felt an infinite pathos gathering about it as itpaused for a moment, hesitating, underneath the arc-lamp at the corner. They saw the white face lifted as Happy Fear gave one last look abouthim; then he set his shoulders sturdily, and steadfastly entered thedoor of the jail. 

Joe took a deep breath. "Now we'll go, " he said. "I must be quick. "

"What was it?" she asked, tremulously, as they reached the street. "Can you tell me?"

"Nothing--just an old story. "

He had not offered her his arm, but walked on hurriedly, a pace aheadof her, though she came as rapidly as she could. She put her handrather timidly on his sleeve, and without need of more words from herhe understood her insistence. 

"That was the husband of the woman who told you her story, " he said. "Perhaps it would shock you less if I tell you now than if you heard itto-morrow, as you will. He's just shot the other man. "

"Killed him!" she gasped. 

"Yes, " he answered. "He wanted to run away, but I wouldn't let him. He has my word that I'll clear him, and I made him give himself up. "

XVI

THE TWO CANAANS

When Joe left Ariel at Judge Pike's gate she lingered there, her elbowsupon the uppermost cross-bar, like a village girl at twilight, watchinghis thin figure vanish into the heavy shadow of the maples, then emergemomentarily, ghost-gray and rapid, at the lighted crossing down thestreet, to disappear again under the trees beyond, followed a secondlater by a brownish streak as the mongrel heeled after him. When theyhad passed the second corner she could no longer be certain of them, although the street was straight, with flat, draughtsmanlike Westerndirectness: both figures and Joe's quick footsteps merging with thenight. Still she did not turn to go; did not alter her position, norcease to gaze down the dim street. Few lights shone; almost all thewindows of the houses were darkened, and, save for the summer murmurs, the faint creak of upper branches, and the infinitesimal voices ofinsects in the grass, there was silence: the pleasant and somnolenthush, swathed in which that part of Canaan crosses to the far side ofthe eleventh hour. 

But Ariel, not soothed by this balm, sought beyond it, to see thatunquiet Canaan whither her old friend bent his steps and found hislabor and his dwelling: that other Canaan where peace did not fallcomfortably with the coming of night; a place as alien in habit, inthought, and almost in speech as if it had been upon another continent. And yet--so strange is the duality of towns--it lay but a few blocksdistant. 

Here, about Ariel, as she stood at the gate of the Pike Mansion, thehouses of the good (secure of salvation and daily bread) were closedand quiet, as safely shut and sound asleep as the churches; but deeperin the town there was light and life and merry, evilindustry, --screened, but strong to last until morning; there werehaunts of haggard merriment in plenty: surreptitious chambers whereroulette-wheels swam beneath dizzied eyes; ill-favored bars, reached bydevious ways, where quavering voices offered song and were harshlychecked; and through the burdened air of this Canaan wandered heavysmells of musk like that upon Happy Fear's wife, who must now be sopale beneath her rouge. And above all this, and for all this, andbecause of all this, was that one resort to which Joe now made his way;that haven whose lights burn all night long, whose doors are neverclosed, but are open from dawn until dawn--the jail. 

There, in that desolate refuge, lay Happy Fear, surrendered sturdily byhimself at Joe's word. The picture of the little man was clear andfresh in Ariel's eyes, and though she had seen him when he was newlycome from a thing so terrible that she could not realize it as a fact, she felt only an overwhelming pity for him. She was not evenhorror-stricken, though she had shuddered. The pathos of the shabbylittle figure crossing the street toward the lighted doors had touchedher. Something about him had appealed to her, for he had not seemedwicked; his face was not cruel, though it was desperate. Perhaps itwas partly his very desperation which had moved her. She hadunderstood Joe, when he told her, that this man was his friend; andcomprehended his great fear when he said: "I've got to clear him! Ipromised him. "

Over and over Joe had reiterated: "I've got to save him! I've gotto!" She had answered gently, "Yes, Joe, " hurrying to keep up withhim. "He's a good man, " he said. "I've known few better, given hischances. And none of this would have happened except for his old-timefriendship for me. It was his loyalty--oh, the rarest and absurdestloyalty!--that made the first trouble between him and the man he shot. I've got to clear him!"

"Will it be hard?"

"They may make it so. I can only see part of it surely. When his wifeleft the office, she met Cory on the street. You saw what a pitifulkind of fool she was, irresponsible and helpless and feather-brained. There are thousands of women like that everywhere--some of them are'Court Beauties, ' I dare say--and they always mix things up; but theyare most dangerous when they're like Claudine, because then they liveamong men of action like Cory and Fear. Cory was artful: he spent theday about town telling people that he had always liked Happy; that hisill feeling of yesterday was all gone; he wanted to find him and shakehis hand, bury past troubles and be friends. I think he told Claudinethe same thing when they met, and convinced the tiny brainlet of hissincerity. Cory was a man who 'had a way with him, ' and I can seeClaudine flattered at the idea of being peace-maker between 'two suchnice gen'lemen as Mr. Cory and Mr. Fear. ' Her commonestasseveration--quite genuine, too--is that she doesn't like to have thegen'lemen making trouble about her! So the poor imbecile led him towhere her husband was waiting. All that Happy knew of this was in hercry afterwards. He was sitting alone, when Cory threw open the doorand said, 'I've got you this time, Happy!' His pistol was raised butnever fired. He waited too long, meaning to establish his case of'self-defence, ' and Fear is the quickest man I know. Cory fell justinside the door. Claudine stumbled upon him as she came running afterhim, crying out to her husband that she 'never meant no trouble, ' thatCory had sworn to her that he only wanted to shake hands and 'make up. 'Other people heard the shot and broke into the room, but they did nottry to stop Fear; he warned them off and walked out without hindrance, and came to me. I've got to clear him. "

Ariel knew what he meant: she realized the actual thing as it was, and, though possessed by a strange feeling that it must all be medieval andnot possibly of to-day, understood that he would have to fight to keephis friend from being killed; that the unhappy creature who had runinto the office out of the dark stood in high danger of having his neckbroken, unless Joe could help him. He made it clear to her that theState would kill Happy if it could; that it would be a point of pridewith certain deliberate men holding office to take the life of thelittle man; that if they did secure his death it would be set down totheir efficiency, and was even competent as campaign material. "I wishto point out, " Joe had heard a candidate for re-election vehementlyorate, "that in addition to the other successful convictions I havenamed, I and my assistants have achieved the sending of three men tothe gallows during my term of office!"

"I can't tell yet, " said Joe, at parting. "It may be hard. I'm sosorry you saw all this. I--"

"Oh NO!" she cried. "I want to UNDERSTAND!"

She was still there, at the gate, her elbows resting upon thecross-bar, when, a long time after Joe had gone, there came from thealley behind the big back yard the minor chordings of a quartette ofthose dark strollers who never seem to go to bed, who play by night andplayfully pretend to work by day:

 "You know my soul is a-full o' them-a-trub-bils, Ev-ry mawn! I cain' a-walk withouten I stum-bils! Then le'ss go on-- Keep walkin' on! These times is sow'owful, an' I am pow'owful Sick an' fo'lawn!"

She heard a step upon the path behind her, and, turning, saw awhite-wrapped figure coming toward her. 

"Mamie?" she called. 

"Hush!" Mamie lifted a warning hand. "The windows are open, " shewhispered. "They might hear you!"

"Why haven't you gone to bed?"

"Oh, don't you see?" Mamie answered, in deep distress, --"I've beensitting up for you. We all thought you were writing letters in yourroom, but after papa and mamma had gone to bed I went in to tell yougood night, and you weren't there, nor anywhere else; so I knew youmust have gone out. I've been sitting by the front window, waiting tolet you in, but I went to sleep until a little while ago, when thetelephone-bell rang and he got up and answered it. He kept talking along time; it was something about the Tocsin, and I'm afraid there'sbeen a murder down-town. When he went back to bed I fell asleep again, and then those darkies woke me up. How on earth did you expect to getin? Don't you know he always locks up the house?"

"I could have rung, " said Ariel. 

"Oh--oh!" gasped Miss Pike; and, after she had recovered somewhat, asked: "Do you mind telling me where you've been? I won't tellhim--nor mamma, either. I think, after all, I was wrong yesterday tofollow Eugene's advice. He meant for the best, but I--"

"Don't think that. You weren't wrong. " Ariel put her arm round theother's waist. "I went to talk over some things with Mr. Louden. "

"I think, " whispered Mamie, trembling, "that you are the bravest girl Iever knew--and--and--I could almost believe there's some good in him, since you like him so. I know there is. And I--I think he's had ahard time. I want you to know I won't even tell Eugene!"

"You can tell everybody in the world, " said Ariel, and kissed her. 

XVII

MR. SHEEHAN'S HINTS

"Never, " said the Tocsin on the morrow, "has this community beenstirred to deeper indignation than by the cold-blooded and unmitigatedbrutality of the deliberate murder committed almost under the veryshadow of the Court-house cupola last night. The victim was not a manof good repute, it is true, but at the moment of his death he was inthe act of performing a noble and generous action which showed that hemight have become, if he lived, a good and law-fearing citizen. Inbrief, he went to forgive his enemy and was stretching forth the handof fellowship when that enemy shot him down. Not half an hour beforehis death, Cory had repeated within the hearing of a dozen men what hehad been saying all day, as many can testify: 'I want to find my oldfriend Fear and shake hands with him. I want to tell him that Iforgive him and that I am ashamed of whatever has been my part in thetrouble between us. ' He went with that intention to his death. Thewife of the murderer has confessed that this was the substance of whathe said to her, and that she was convinced of his peaceful intentions. When they reached the room where her husband was waiting for her, Coryentered first. The woman claims now that as they neared the vicinityhe hastened forward at a pace which she could not equal. Naturally, her testimony on all points favoring her husband is practicallyworthless. She followed and heard the murdered man speak, though whathis words were she declares she does not know, and of course themurderer, after consultation with his lawyer, claims that their naturewas threatening. Such a statement, in determining the truth, is worsethan valueless. It is known and readily proved that Fear repeatedlythreatened the deceased's life yesterday, and there is no question inthe mind of any man, woman, or child, who reads these words, of thecold blooded nature of the crime. The slayer, who had formerly made amurderous attack upon his victim, lately quarrelled with him anduttered threats, as we have stated, upon his life. The dead man cameto him with protestations of friendship and was struck down a corpse. It is understood that the defence will in desperation set up the theoryof self-defence, based on an unsubstantiated claim that Cory enteredthe room with a drawn pistol. No pistol was found in the room. Theweapon with which the deed was accomplished was found upon the personof the murderer when he was seized by the police, one chamberdischarged. Another revolver was discovered upon the person of thewoman, when she was arrested on the scene of the crime. This, uponbeing strictly interrogated, she said she had picked up from the floorin the confusion, thinking it was her husband's and hoping to concealit. The chambers were full and undischarged, and we have heard itsurmised that the defence means to claim that it was Cory's. Corydoubtless went on his errand of forgiveness unarmed, and beyond doubtthe second weapon belonged to the woman herself, who has an unenviablerecord. 

"The point of it all is plainly this: here is an unquestionable murderin the first degree, and the people of this city and county areoutraged and incensed that such a crime should have been committed intheir law-abiding and respectable community. With whom does the faultlie? On whose head is this murder? Not with the authorities, for theydo not countenance crime. Has it come to the pass that, counting onjuggleries of the law, criminals believe that they may kill, maim, burn, and slay as they list without punishment? Is this to be anotherinstance of the law's delays and immunity for a hideous crime, compassed by a cunning and cynical trickster of legal technicalities?The people of Canaan cry out for a speedy trial, speedy conviction, andspeedy punishment of this cold-blooded and murderous monster. If he isnot dealt with quickly according to his deserts, the climax is upon usand the limit of Canaan's patience has been reached. 

"One last word, and we shall be glad to have its significance noted: J. Louden, Esq. , has been retained for the defence! The murderer, beforebeing apprehended by the authorities, WENT STRAIGHT FROM THE SCENE OFHIS CRIME TO PLACE HIS RETAINER IN HIS ATTORNEY'S POCKET! HOW LONG ISTHIS TO LAST?"

The Tocsin was quoted on street corners that morning, in shop and storeand office, wherever people talked of the Cory murder; and that waseverywhere, for the people of Canaan and of the country roundabouttalked of nothing else. Women chattered of it in parlor and kitchen;men gathered in small groups on the street and shook their headsominously over it; farmers, meeting on the road, halted their teams andloudly damned the little man in the Canaan jail; milkmen lingered onback porches over their cans to agree with cooks that it was an awfulthing, and that if ever any man deserved hanging, that there Feardeserved it--his lawyer along with him! Tipsy men hammered bars withfists and beer-glasses, inquiring if there was no rope to be had in thetown; and Joe Louden, returning to his office from the littlerestaurant where he sometimes ate his breakfast, heard hisses followinghim along Main Street. A clerk, a fat-shouldered, blue-aproned, pimple-cheeked youth, stood in the open doors of a grocery, and as hepassed, stared him in the face and said "Yah!" with supreme disgust. 

Joe stopped. "Why?" he asked, mildly. 

The clerk put two fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly inderision. "You'd ort to be run out o' town!" he exclaimed. 

"I believe, " said Joe, "that we have never met before. "

"Go on, you shyster!"

Joe looked at him gravely. "My dear sir, " he returned, "you speak tome with the familiarity of an old friend. "

The clerk did not recover so far as to be capable of repartee until Joehad entered his own stairway. Then, with a bitter sneer, he seized abad potato from an open barrel and threw it at the mongrel, who hadpaused to examine the landscape. The missile failed, andRespectability, after bestowing a slightly injured look upon the clerk, followed his master. 

In the office the red-bearded man sat waiting. Not so red-bearded as ofyore, however, was Mr. Sheehan, but grizzled and gray, and, thismorning, gray of face, too, as he sat, perspiring and anxious, wiping atroubled brow with a black silk handkerchief. 

"Here's the devil and all to pay at last, Joe, " he said, uneasily, onthe other's entrance. "This is the worst I ever knew; and I hate tosay it, but I doubt yer pullin' it off. "

"I've got to, Mike. "

"I hope on my soul there's a chanst of it! I like the little man, Joe. "

"So do I. "

"I know ye do, my boy. But here's this Tocsin kickin' up the publicsentiment; and if there ever was a follerin' sheep on earth, it's thatsame public sentiment!"

"If it weren't for that"--Joe flung himself heavily in achair--"there'd not be so much trouble. It's a clear enough case. "

"But don't ye see, " interrupted Sheehan, "the Tocsin's tried it andconvicted him aforehand? And that if things keep goin' the way they'vestarted to-day, the gran' jury's bound to indict him, and the trialjury to convict him? They wouldn't dare not to! What's more, they'llwant to! And they'll rush the trial, summer or no summer, and--"

"I know, I know. "

"I'll tell ye one thing, " said the other, wiping his forehead with theblack handkerchief, "and that's this, my boy: last night's business hasjust about put the cap on the Beach fer me. I'm sick of it and I'mtired of it! I'm ready to quit, sir!"

Joe looked at him sharply. "Don't you think my old notion of whatmight be done could be made to pay?"

Sheehan laughed. "Whoo! You and yer hints, Joe! How long past haveye come around me with 'em! 'I b'lieve ye c'd make more money, Mike'--that's the way ye'd put it, --'if ye altered the Beach a bit. Make a little country-side restaurant of it, ' ye'd say, 'and have goodcookin', and keep the boys and girls from raisin' so much hell outthere. Soon ye'd have other people comin' beside the regular crowd. Make a little garden on the shore, and let 'em eat at tables undertrees an' grape-arbors--'"

"Well, why not?" asked Joe. 

"Haven't I been tellin' ye I'm thinkin' of it? It's only yer way ofhintin' that's funny to me, --yer way of sayin' I'd make more money, because ye're afraid of preachin' at any of us: partly because ye knowthe little good it 'd be, and partly because ye have humor. Well, I'mthinkin' ye'll git yer way. I'M willin' to go into the missionarybusiness with ye!"

"Mike!" said Joe, angrily, but he grew very red and failed to meet theother's eye, "I'm not--"

"Yes, ye are!" cried Sheehan. "Yes, sir! It's a thing ye prob'lyhaven't had the nerve to say to yerself since a boy, but that's yernotion inside: ye're little better than a missionary! It took me along while to understand what was drivin' ye, but I do now. And ye'vegone the right way about it, because we know ye'll stand fer us whenwe're in trouble and fight fer us till we git a square deal, as ye'regoin' to fight for Happy now. "

Joe looked deeply troubled. "Never mind, " he said, crossly, and withvisible embarrassment. "You think you couldn't make more at the Beachif you ran it on my plan?"

"I'm game to try, " said Sheehan, slowly. "I'm too old to hold 'em downout there the way I yoosta could, and I'm sick of it--sick of it intothe very bones of me!" He wiped his forehead. "Where's Claudine?"

"Held as a witness. "

"I'm not sorry fer HER!" said the red-bearded man, emphatically. "Women o' that kind are so light-headed it's a wonder they don't float. Think of her pickin' up Cory's gun from the floor and hidin' it in herclothes! Took it fer granted it was Happy's, and thought she'd helphim by hidin' it! There's a hard point fer ye, Joe: to prove the gunbelonged to Cory. There's nobody about here could swear to it. Icouldn't myself, though I forced him to stick it back in his pocketyesterday. He was a wanderer, too; and ye'll have to send a keen one totrace him, I'm thinkin', to find where he got it, so's ye can show itin court. "

"I'm going myself. I've found out that he came here from Denver. "

"And from where before that?"

"I don't know, but I'll keep on travelling till I get what I want. "

"That's right, my boy, " exclaimed the other, heartily, "It may be along trip, but ye're all the little man has to depend on. Did yenotice the Tocsin didn't even give him the credit fer givin' himselfup?"

"Yes, " said Joe. "It's part of their game. "

"Did it strike ye now, " Mr. Sheehan asked, earnestly, leaning forwardin his chair, --"did it strike ye that the Tocsin was aimin' more to doHappy harm because of you than himself?"

"Yes. " Joe looked sadly out of the window. "I've thought that over, and it seemed possible that I might do Happy more good by giving hiscase to some other lawyer. "

"No, sir!" exclaimed the proprietor of Beaver Beach, loudly. "They'vebegun their attack; they're bound to keep it up, and they'd manage toturn it to the discredit of both of ye. Besides, Happy wouldn't haveno other lawyer; he'd ruther be hung with you fightin' fer him than becleared by anybody else. I b'lieve it, --on my soul I do! But lookhere, " he went on, leaning still farther forward; "I want to know if itstruck ye that this morning the Tocsin attacked ye in a way that wassomehow vi'lenter than ever before?"

"Yes, " replied Joe, "because it was aimed to strike where it would mostcount. "

"It ain't only that, " said the other, excitedly. "It ain't only that!I want ye to listen. Now see here: the Tocsin is Pike, and the town isPike--I mean the town ye naturally belonged to. Ain't it?"

"In a way, I suppose--yes. "

"In a way!" echoed the other, scornfully. "Ye know it is! Even as aboy Pike disliked ye and hated the kind of a boy ye was. Ye wasn'trespectable and he was! Ye wasn't rich and he was! Ye had a grin onyer face when ye'd meet him on the street. " The red-bearded man brokeoff at a gesture from Joe and exclaimed sharply: "Don't deny it! _I_know what ye was like! Ye wasn't impudent, but ye looked at him as ifye saw through him. Now listen and I'll lead ye somewhere! Ye runwith riffraff, naggers, and even"--Mr. Sheehan lifted a forefingersolemnly and shook it at his auditor--"and even with the Irish! Now Iask ye this: ye've had one part of Canaan with ye from the start, MYpart, that is; but the other's against ye; that part's PIKE, and it'sthe rulin' part--"

"Yes, Mike, " said Joe, wearily. "In the spirit of things. I know. "

"No, sir, " cried the other. "That's the trouble: ye don't know. There's more in Canaan than ye've understood. Listen to this: Why wasthe Tocsin's attack harder this morning than ever before? On yer souldidn't it sound so bitter that it sounded desprit? Now why? It lookedto me as if it had started to ruin ye, this time fer good and all! Why?What have ye had to do with Martin Pike lately? Has the old wolf GOTto injure ye?" Mr. Sheehan's voice rose and his eyes gleamed underbushy brows. "Think, " he finished. "What's happened lately to makehim bite so hard?"

There were some faded roses on the desk, and as Joe's haggard eyes fellupon them the answer came. "What makes you think Judge Pike isn'ttrustworthy?" he had asked Ariel, and her reply had been: "Nothingvery definite, unless it was his look when I told him that I meant toask you to take charge of things for me. "

He got slowly and amazedly to his feet. "You've got it!" he said. 

"Ye see?" cried Mike Sheehan, slapping his thigh with a big hand. "Onmy soul I have the penetration! Ye don't need to tell me one thingexcept this: I told ye I'd lead ye somewhere; haven't I kept me word?"

"Yes, " said Joe. 

"But I have the penetration!" exclaimed Mr. Sheehan. "Should I miss myguess if I said that ye think Pike may be scared ye'll stumble on histrack in some queer performances? Should I miss it?"

"No, " said Joe. "You wouldn't miss it. "

"Just one thing more. " The red-bearded man rose, mopping the innerband of his straw hat. "In the matter of yer runnin' fer Mayor, now--"

Joe, who had begun to pace up and down the room, made an impatientgesture. "Pshaw!" he interrupted; but his friend stopped him with ahand laid on his arm. 

"Don't be treatin' it as clean out of all possibility, Joe Louden. Ifye do, it shows ye haven't sense to know that nobody can say what waythe wind's blowin' week after next. All the boys want ye; LouieFarbach wants ye, and Louie has a big say. Who is it that doesn't wantye?"

"Canaan, " said Joe. 

"Hold up! It's Pike's Canaan ye mean. If ye git the nomination, ye'dbe elected, wouldn't ye?"

"I couldn't be nominated. "

"I ain't claimin' ye'd git Martin Pike's vote, " returned Mr. Sheehan, sharply, "though I don't say it's impossible. Ye've got to beat him, that's all. Ye've got to do to him what he's done to YOU, and whathe's tryin' to do now worse than ever before. Well--there may be waysto do it; and if he tempts me enough, I may fergit my troth and honoras a noble gentleman and help ye with a word ye'd never guess yerself. "

"You've hinted at such mysteries before, Mike, " Joe smiled. "I'd beglad to know what you mean, if there's anything in them. "

"It may come to that, " said the other, with some embarrassment. "Itmay come to that some day, if the old wolf presses me too hard in thematter o' tryin' to git the little man across the street hanged by theneck and yerself mobbed fer helpin' him! But to-day I'll say no more. "

"Very well, Mike. " Joe turned wearily to his desk. "I don't want youto break any promises. "

Mr. Sheehan had gone to the door, but he paused on the threshold, andwiped his forehead again. 

"And I don't want to break any, " he said, "but if ever the time shouldcome when I couldn't help it"--he lowered his voice to a hoarse butpiercing whisper--"that will be the devourin' angel's day fer MartinPike!"

XVIII

IN THE HEAT OF THE DAY

It was a morning of the warmest week of mid-July, and Canaan lay inertand helpless beneath a broiling sun. The few people who moved about thestreets went languidly, keeping close to the wall on the shady side;the women in thin white fabrics; the men, often coatless, carryingpalm-leaf fans, and replacing collars with handkerchiefs. In theCourt-house yard the maple leaves, gray with blown dust and grown togreat breadth, drooped heavily, depressing the long, motionlessbranches with their weight, so low that the four or five shabby idlers, upon the benches beneath, now and then flicked them sleepily withwhittled sprigs. The doors and windows of the stores stood open, displaying limp wares of trade, but few tokens of life; the clerkshanging over dim counters as far as possible from the glare in front, gossiping fragmentarily, usually about the Cory murder, and, anon, upona subject suggested by the sight of an occasional pedestrian passingperspiring by with scrooged eyelids and purpling skin. From street andsidewalk, transparent hot waves swam up and danced themselves intonothing; while from the river bank, a half-mile away, came a soundhotter than even the locust's midsummer rasp: the drone of aplaning-mill. A chance boy, lying prone in the grass of theCourt-house yard, was annoyed by the relentless chant and lifted hishead to mock it: "AWR-EER-AWR-EER! SHUT UP, CAN'T YOU?" The effortwas exhausting: he relapsed and suffered with increasing malice but insilence. 

Abruptly there was a violent outbreak on the "National House" corner, as when a quiet farmhouse is startled by some one's inadvertentlybringing down all the tin from a shelf in the pantry. The loafers onthe benches turned hopefully, saw what it was, then closed their eyes, and slumped back into their former positions. The outbreak subsided assuddenly as it had arisen: Colonel Flitcroft pulled Mr. Arp down intohis chair again, and it was all over. 

Greater heat than that of these blazing days could not have kept one ofthe sages from attending the conclave now. For the battle was on inCanaan: and here, upon the National House corner, under the shadow ofthe west wall, it waxed even keener. Perhaps we may find fulljustification for calling what was happening a battle in so far as werestrict the figure to apply to this one spot; else where, in theCanaan of the Tocsin, the conflict was too one-sided. The Tocsin hadindeed tried the case of Happy Fear in advance, had convicted andcondemned, and every day grew more bitter. Nor was the urgent vigor ofits attack without effect. Sleepy as Main Street seemed in the heat, the town was incensed and roused to a tensity of feeling it had notknown since the civil war, when, on occasion, it had set out to hanghalf a dozen "Knights of the Golden Circle. " Joe had been hissed onthe street many times since the inimical clerk had whistled at him. Probably demonstrations of that sort would have continued had heremained in Canaan; but for almost a month he had been absent and hisoffice closed, its threshold gray with dust. There were people whobelieved that he had run away again, this time never to return; amongthose who held to this opinion being Mrs. Louden and her sister, Joe'sstep-aunt. Upon only one point was everybody agreed: that twelve mencould not be found in the county who could be so far persuaded andbefuddled by Louden that they would dare to allow Happy Fear to escape. The women of Canaan, incensed by the terrible circumstance of the case, as the Tocsin colored it--a man shot down in the act of begging hisenemy's forgiveness--clamored as loudly as the men: there was only thedifference that the latter vociferated for the hanging of Happy; theirgood ladies used the word "punishment. "

And yet, while the place rang with condemnation of the little man inthe jail and his attorney, there were voices, here and there, upliftedon the other side. People existed, it astonishingly appeared, whoLIKED Happy Fear. These were for the greater part obscure and evendarkling in their lives, yet quite demonstrably human beings, able tosmile, suffer, leap, run, and to entertain fancies; even to have, according to their degree, a certain rudimentary sense of right andwrong, in spite of which they strongly favored the prisoner'sacquittal. Precisely on that account, it was argued, an acquittal wouldoutrage Canaan and lay it open to untold danger: such people needed alesson. 

The Tocsin interviewed the town's great ones, printing their opinionsof the heinousness of the crime and the character of the defendant'slawyer. .. . "The Hon. P. J. Parrott, who so ably represented this countyin the Legislature some fourteen years ago, could scarcely restrainhimself when approached by a reporter as to his sentiments anent therepulsive deed. 'I should like to know how long Canaan is going to putup with this sort of business, ' were his words. 'I am a law-abidingcitizen, and I have served faithfully, and with my full endeavor andability, to enact the laws and statutes of my State, but there is apoint in my patience, I would state, which lawbreakers and theirlawyers may not safely pass. Of what use are our most solemnenactments, I may even ask of what use is the Legislature itself, chosen by the will of the people, if they are to ruthlessly be setaside by criminals and their shifty protectors? The blame should be putupon the lawyers who by tricks enable such rascals to escape the rigorsof the carefully enacted laws, the fruits of the Solon's labor, morethan upon the criminals themselves. In this case, if there is anymiscarriage of justice, I will say here and now that in my opinion thepeople of this county will be sorely tempted; and while I do notbelieve in lynch-law, yet if that should be the result it is myunalterable conviction that the vigilantes may well turn theirattention to the lawyers--OR LAWYER--who bring about such miscarriage. I am sick of it. '"

The Tocsin did not print the interview it obtained from LouieFarbach--the same Louie Farbach who long ago had owned a beer-saloonwith a little room behind the bar, where a shabby boy sometimes playeddominoes and "seven-up" with loafers: not quite the same Louie Farbach, however, in outward circumstance: for he was now the brewer of FarbachBeer and making Canaan famous. His rise had been Teutonic and sure;and he contributed one-twentieth of his income to the German OrphanAsylum and one-tenth to his party's campaign fund. The twentieth savedthe orphans from the county, while the tithe gave the county to hisparty. 

He occupied a kitchen chair, enjoying the society of some chickens in awired enclosure behind the new Italian villa he had erected in thatpart of Canaan where he would be most uncomfortable, and he lookedwoodenly at the reporter when the latter put his question. 

"Hef you any aguaintunce off Mitster Fear?" he inquired, in return, with no expression decipherable either upon his Gargantuan face or inhis heavily enfolded eyes. 

"No, sir, " replied the reporter, grinning. "I never ran across him. "

"Dot iss a goot t'ing fer you, " said Mr. Farbach, stonily. "He iss nota man peobles bedder try to run across. It iss what Gory tried. NowGory iss dead. "

The reporter, slightly puzzled, lit a cigarette. "See here, Mr. Farbach, " he urged, "I only want a word or two about this thing; andyou might give me a brief expression concerning that man Loudenbesides: just a hint of what you think of his influence here, you know, and of the kind of sharp work he practises. Something like that. "

"I see, " said the brewer, slowly. "Happy Fear I hef knowt for a gootmany years. He iss a goot frient of mine. "

"What?"

"Choe Louten iss a bedder one, " continued Mr. Farbach, turning again tostare at his chickens. 

"Git owit. "

"What?"

"Git owit, " repeated the other, without passion, without anger, withoutany expression whatsoever. "Git owit. "

The reporter's prejudice against the German nation dated from thatmoment. 

There were others, here and there, who were less self-contained thanthe brewer. A farm-hand struck a fellow laborer in the harvest-fieldfor speaking ill of Joe; and the unravelling of a strange street fight, one day, disclosed as its cause a like resentment, on the part of ablind broom-maker, engendered by a like offence. The broom-maker'scompanion, reading the Tocsin as the two walked together, had begun thequarrel by remarking that Happy Fear ought to be hanged once for hisown sake and twice more "to show up that shyster Louden. " Warm wordsfollowed, leading to extremely material conflict, in which, in spite ofhis blindness, the broom-maker had so much the best of it that he wasremoved from the triumphant attitude he had assumed toward the personof his adversary, which was an admirable imitation of the dismountedSt. George and the Dragon, and conveyed to the jail. Keenestinvestigation failed to reveal anything oblique in the man's record; tothe astonishment of Canaan, there was nothing against him. He wasblind and moderately poor; but a respectable, hard-working artisan, anda pride to the church in which he was what has been called an "activeworker. " It was discovered that his sensitiveness to his companion'sattack on Joseph Louden arose from the fact that Joe had obtained theacquittal of an imbecile sister of the blind man, a two-thirds-wittedwoman who had been charged with bigamy. 

The Tocsin made what it could of this, and so dexterously that thewrath of Canaan was one farther jot increased against the shyster. Ay, the town was hot, inside and out. 

Let us consider the Forum. Was there ever before such a summer for the"National House" corner? How voices first thundered there, thencracked and piped, is not to be rendered in all the tales of thefathers. One who would make vivid the great doings must indeed "diphis brush in earthquake and eclipse"; even then he could but picturethe credible, and must despair of this: the silence of Eskew Arp. Notthat Eskew held his tongue, not that he was chary of speech--no! Otempora, O mores! NO! But that he refused the subject in hand, thathe eschewed expression upon it and resolutely drove the argument inother directions, that he achieved such superbly un-Arplikeinconsistency; and with such rich material for his sardonic humors, notat arm's length, not even so far as his finger-tips, but beneath hisvery palms, he rejected it: this was the impossible fact. 

Eskew--there is no option but to declare--was no longer Eskew. It isthe truth; since the morning when Ariel Tabor came down from Joe'soffice, leaving her offering of white roses in that dingy, dusty, shadyplace, Eskew had not been himself. His comrades observed it somewhat ina physical difference, one of those alterations which may come upon menof his years suddenly, like a "sea change": his face was whiter, hiswalk slower, his voice filed thinner; he creaked louder when he rose orsat. Old always, from his boyhood, he had, in the turn of a hand, become aged. But such things come and such things go: after eightythere are ups and downs; people fading away one week, bloom outpleasantly the next, and resiliency is not at all a patent belonging toyouth alone. The material change in Mr. Arp might have been thoughtlittle worth remarking. What caused Peter Bradbury, Squire Buckalew, and the Colonel to shake their heads secretly to one another and wonderif their good old friend's mind had not "begun to go" was somethingvery different. To come straight down to it: he not only abstainedfrom all argument upon the "Cory Murder" and the case of Happy Fear, refusing to discuss either in any terms or under any circumstances, buthe also declined to speak of Ariel Tabor or of Joseph Louden; or oftheir affairs, singular or plural, masculine, feminine, or neuter, orin any declension. Not a word, committal or non-committal. None!

And his face, when he was silent, fell into sorrowful and troubledlines. 

At first they merely marvelled. Then Squire Buckalew dared to tempthim. Eskew's faded eyes showed a blue gleam, but he withstood, speaking of Babylon to the disparagement of Chicago. They sought tolead him into what he evidently would not, employing many devices; butthe old man was wily and often carried them far afield by secret waysof his own. This hot morning he had done that thing: they were closeupon him, pressing him hard, when he roused that outburst which hadstirred the idlers on the benches in the Court-house yard. SquireBuckalew (sidelong at the others but squarely at Eskew) had volunteeredthe information that Cory was a reformed priest. Stung by the mysteryof Eskew's silence, the Squire's imagination had become magicallygymnastic; and if anything under heaven could have lifted the veil, this was the thing. Mr. Arp's reply may be reverenced. 

"I consider, " he said, deliberately, "that James G. Blaine's furrinpolicy was childish, and, what's more, I never thought much of HIM!"

This outdefied Ajax, and every trace of the matter in hand went to thefour winds. Eskew, like Rome, was saved by a cackle, in which hejoined, and a few moments later, as the bench loafers saw, was pulleddown into his seat by the Colonel. 

The voices of the fathers fell to the pitch of ordinary discourse; thedrowsy town was quiet again; the whine of the planing-mill boring itsway through the sizzling air to every wakening ear. Far away, on aquiet street, it sounded faintly, like the hum of a bee across a creek, and was drowned in the noise of men at work on the old Tabor house. Itseemed the only busy place in Canaan that day: the shade of the bigbeech-trees which surrounded it affording some shelter from thedestroying sun to the dripping laborers who were sawing, hammering, painting, plumbing, papering, and ripping open old and newpacking-boxes. There were many changes in the old house pleasantly inkeeping with its simple character: airy enlargements now almostcompleted so that some of the rooms were already finished, and stood, furnished and immaculate, ready for tenancy. 

In that which had been Roger Tabor's studio sat Ariel, alone. She hadcaused some chests and cases, stored there, to be opened, and had takenout of them a few of Roger's canvases and set them along the wall. Tears filled her eyes as she looked at them, seeing the tragedy oflabor the old man had expended upon them; but she felt the recompense:hard, tight, literal as they were, he had had his moment of joy in eachof them before he saw them coldly and knew the truth. And he had beengiven his years of Paris at last: and had seen "how the other fellowsdid it. "

A heavy foot strode through the hall, coming abruptly to a halt in thedoorway, and turning, she discovered Martin Pike, his bigHenry-the-Eighth face flushed more with anger than with the heat. Hishat was upon his head, and remained there, nor did he offer any tokenor word of greeting whatever, but demanded to know when the work uponthe house had been begun. 

"The second morning after my return, " she answered. 

"I want to know, " he pursued, "why it was kept secret from me, and Iwant to know quick. "

"Secret?" she echoed, with a wave of her hand to indicate the noisewhich the workmen were making. 

"Upon whose authority was it begun?"

"Mine. Who else could give it?"

"Look here, " he said, advancing toward her, "don't you try to fool me!You haven't done all this by yourself. Who hired these workmen?"

Remembering her first interview with him, she rose quickly before hecould come near her. "Mr. Louden made most of the arrangements forme, " she replied, quietly, "before he went away. He will take chargeof everything when he returns. You haven't forgotten that I told you Iintended to place my affairs in his hands?"

He had started forward, but at this he stopped and stared at herinarticulately. 

"You remember?" she said, her hands resting negligently upon the backof the chair. "Surely you remember?"

She was not in the least afraid of him, but coolly watchful of him. This had been her habit with him since her return. She had seen littleof him, except at table, when he was usually grimly laconic, though nowand then she would hear him joking heavily with Sam Warden in the yard, or, with evidently humorous intent, groaning at Mamie over Eugene'shealth; but it had not escaped Ariel that he was, on his part, watchfulof herself, and upon his guard with a wariness in which she wassometimes surprised to believe that she saw an almost haggardapprehension. 

He did not answer her question, and it seemed to her, as she continuedsteadily to meet his hot eyes, that he was trying to hold himself undersome measure of control; and a vain effort it proved. 

"You go back to my house!" he burst out, shouting hoarsely. "You getback there! You stay there!"

"No, " she said, moving between him and the door. "Mamie and I aregoing for a drive. "

"You go back to my house!" He followed her, waving an arm fiercely ather. "Don't you come around here trying to run over me! You talkabout your 'affairs'! All you've got on earth is this two-for-a-nickelold shack over your head and a bushel-basket of distillery stock thatyou can sell by the pound for old paper!" He threw the words in herface, the bull-bass voice seamed and cracked with falsetto. "Oldpaper, old rags, old iron, bottles, old clothes! You talk about youraffairs! Who are you? Rothschild? You haven't GOT any affairs!"

Not a look, not a word, not a motion of his escaped her in all the furyof sound and gesture in which he seemed fairly to envelop himself;least of all did that shaking of his--the quivering of jaw and temple, the tumultuous agitation of his hands--evade her watchfulness. 

"When did you find this out?" she said, very quickly. "After youbecame administrator?"

He struck the back of the chair she had vacated a vicious blow with hisopen hand. "No, you spendthrift! All there was TO your grandfatherwhen you buried him was a basket full of distillery stock, I tell you!Old paper! Can't you hear me? Old paper, old rags--"

"You have sent me the same income, " she lifted her voice to interrupt;"you have made the same quarterly payments since his death that youmade before. If you knew, why did you do that?"

He had been shouting at her with the frantic and incredulousexasperation of an intolerant man utterly unused to opposition; hisface empurpled, his forehead dripping, and his hands ruthlesslypounding the back of the chair; but this straight question stripped himsuddenly of gesture and left him standing limp and still before her, pale splotches beginning to show on his hot cheeks. 

"If you knew, why did you do it?" she repeated. "You wrote me that myincome was from dividends, and I knew and thought nothing about it; butif the stock which came to me was worthless, how could it paydividends?"

"It did not, " he answered, huskily. "That distillery stock, I tellyou, isn't worth the matches to burn it. "

"But there has been no difference in my income, " she persisted, steadily. "Why? Can you explain that to me?"

"Yes, I can, " he replied, and it seemed to her that he spoke with apallid and bitter desperation, like a man driven to the wall. "I canif you think you want to know. "

"I do. "

"I sent it. "

"Do you mean from you own--"

"I mean it was my own money. "

She had not taken her eyes from his, which met hers straightly andangrily; and at this she leaned forward, gazing at him with profoundscrutiny. 

"Why did you send it?" she asked. 

"Charity, " he answered, after palpable hesitation. 

Her eyes widened and she leaned back against the lintel of the door, staring at him incredulously. "Charity!" she echoed, in a whisper. 

Perhaps he mistook her amazement at his performance for dismay causedby the sense of her own position, for, as she seemed to weaken beforehim, the strength of his own habit of dominance came back to him. "Charity, madam!" he broke out, shouting intolerably. "Charity, d'yehear? I was a friend of the man that made the money you and yourgrandfather squandered; I was a friend of Jonas Tabor, I say! That'swhy I was willing to support you for a year and over, rather than let aniece of his suffer. "

"'Suffer'!" she cried. "'Support'! You sent me a hundred thousandfrancs!"

The white splotches which had mottled Martin Pike's face disappeared asif they had been suddenly splashed with hot red. "You go back to myhouse, " he said. "What I sent you only shows the extent of my--"

"Effrontery!" The word rang through the whole house, so loudly andclearly did she strike it, rang in his ears till it stung like acastigation. It was ominous, portentous of justice and of disaster. There was more than doubt of him in it: there was conviction. 

He fell back from this word; and when he again advanced, Ariel had leftthe house. She had turned the next corner before he came out of thegate; and as he passed his own home on his way down-town, he saw herwhite dress mingling with his daughter's near the horse-block besidethe fire, where the two, with their arms about each other, stoodwaiting for Sam Warden and the open summer carriage. 

Judge Pike walked on, the white splotches reappearing like a pale rashupon his face. A yellow butterfly zigzagged before him, knee-high, across the sidewalk. He raised his foot and half kicked at it. 

XIX

ESKEW ARP

As the Judge continued his walk down Main Street, he wished profoundlythat the butterfly (which exhibited no annoyance) had been of greaterbulk and more approachable; and it was the evil fortune of Joe'smongrel to encounter him in the sinister humor of such a wishunfulfilled. Respectability dwelt at Beaver Beach under the care of Mr. Sheehan until his master should return; and Sheehan was kind; but thesmall dog found the world lonely and time long without Joe. He hadgrown more and more restless, and at last, this hot morning, havingmanaged to evade the eye of all concerned in his keeping, made offunobtrusively, partly by swimming, and reaching the road, cantered intotown, his ears erect with anxiety. Bent upon reaching the familiaroffice, he passed the grocery from the doorway of which the pimplycheeked clerk had thrown a bad potato at him a month before. The sameclerk had just laid down the Tocsin as Respectability went by, and, inspired to great deeds in behalf of justice and his native city, herushed to the door, lavishly seized, this time, a perfectly goodpotato, and hurled it with a result which ecstasized him, for it tookthe mongrel fairly aside the head, which it matched in size. 

The luckless Respectability's purpose to reach Joe's stairway had beenentirely definite, but upon this violence he forgot it momentarily. Itis not easy to keep things in mind when one is violently smitten onmouth, nose, cheek, eye, and ear by a missile large enough to strikethem simultaneously. Yelping and half blinded, he deflected to crossMain Street. Judge Pike had elected to cross in the oppositedirection, and the two met in the middle of the street. 

The encounter was miraculously fitted to the Judge's need: here was nobutterfly, but a solid body, light withal, a wet, muddy, and dustyyellow dog, eminently kickable. The man was heavily built about thelegs, and the vigor of what he did may have been additionally inspiredby his recognition of the mongrel as Joe Louden's. The impact of histoe upon the little runner's side was momentous, and the latter roseinto the air. The Judge hopped, as one hops who, unshod in the night, discovers an unexpected chair. Let us be reconciled to his pain andnot reproach the gods with it, --for two of his unintending adversary'sribs were cracked. 

The dog, thus again deflected, retraced his tracks, shriekingdistractedly, and, by one of those ironical twists which Karma reservesfor the tails of the fated, dived for blind safety into the storecommanded by the ecstatic and inimical clerk. There were shouts; thesleepy Square beginning to wake up: the boy who had mocked theplaning-mill got to his feet, calling upon his fellows; the benchloafers strolled to the street; the aged men stirred and rose fromtheir chairs; faces appeared in the open windows of offices; salesladies and gentlemen came to the doorways of the trading-places; sothat when Respectability emerged from the grocery he had a notableaudience for the scene he enacted with a brass dinner-bell tied to histail. 

Another potato, flung by the pimpled, uproarious, prodigal clerk, addedto the impetus of his flight. A shower of pebbles from the hands ofexhilarated boys dented the soft asphalt about him; the hideous clamorof the pursuing bell increased as he turned the next corner, runningdistractedly. The dead town had come to life, and its inhabitantsgladly risked the dangerous heat in the interests of sport, whereby itwas a merry chase the little dog led around the block, For thus somedestructive instinct drove him; he could not stop with the unappeasableTerror clanging at his heels and the increasing crowd yelling inpursuit; but he turned to the left at each corner, and thus came backto pass Joe's stairway again, unable to pause there or anywhere, unableto do anything except to continue his hapless flight, poor meteor. 

Round the block he went once more, and still no chance at that emptystairway where, perhaps, he thought, there might be succor and safety. Blood was upon his side where Martin Pike's boot had crashed, foam andblood hung upon his jaws and lolling tongue. He ran desperately, keeping to the middle of the street, and, not howling, set himselfdespairingly to outstrip the Terror. The mob, disdaining the sunsuperbly, pursued as closely as it could, throwing bricks and rocks athim, striking at him with clubs and sticks. Happy Fear, playing"tic-tac-toe, " right hand against left, in his cell, heard the uproar, made out something of what was happening, and, though unaware that itwas a friend whose life was sought, discovered a similarity to his owncase, and prayed to his dim gods that the quarry might get away. 

"MAD DOG!" they yelled. "MAD DOG!" And there were some who cried, "JOE LOUDEN'S DOG!" that being equally as exciting and explanatory. 

Three times round, and still the little fugitive maintained a lead. Agray-helmeted policeman, a big fellow, had joined the pursuit. He hadchildren at home who might be playing in the street, and the thought ofwhat might happen to them if the mad dog should head that way resolvedhim to be cool and steady. He was falling behind, so he stopped on thecorner, trusting that Respectability would come round again. He wasright, and the flying brownish thing streaked along Main Street, passing the beloved stairway for the fourth time. The policeman liftedhis revolver, fired twice, missed once, but caught him with the secondshot in a forepaw, clipping off a fifth toe, one of the small clawsthat grow above the foot and are always in trouble. This did not stophim; but the policeman, afraid to risk another shot because of thecrowd, waited for him to come again; and many others, seeing thehopeless circuit the mongrel followed, did likewise, armed with bricksand clubs. Among them was the pimply clerk, who had been inspired tocommandeer a pitchfork from a hardware store. 

When the fifth round came, Respectability's race was run. He turnedinto Main Street at a broken speed, limping, parched, voiceless, flecked with blood and foam, snapping feebly at the showering rocks, but still indomitably a little ahead of the hunt. There was no yelpleft in him--he was too thoroughly winded for that, --but in hisbrilliant and despairing eyes shone the agony of a cry louder than thetongue of a dog could utter: "O master! O all the god I know! Whereare you in my mortal need?"

Now indeed he had a gauntlet to run; for the street was lined withthose who awaited him, while the pursuit grew closer behind. A numberof the hardiest stood squarely in his path, and he hesitated for asecond, which gave the opportunity for a surer aim, and many missilesstruck him. "Let him have it now, officer, " said Eugene Bantry, standing with Judge Pike at the policeman's elbow. "There's yourchance. "

But before the revolver could be discharged, Respectability had begunto run again, hobbling on three legs and dodging feebly. A heavy stonestruck him on the shoulder and he turned across the street, making forthe "National House" corner, where the joyful clerk brandished hispitchfork. Going slowly, he almost touched the pimply one as he passed, and the clerk, already rehearsing in his mind the honors which shouldfollow the brave stroke, raised the tines above the little dog's headfor the coup de grace. They did not descend, and the daring youthfailed of fame as the laurel almost embraced his brows. A hickorywalking-stick was thrust between his legs; and he, expecting to strike, received a blow upon the temple sufficient for his present undoing andbedazzlement. He went over backwards, and the pitchfork (not the thingto hold poised on high when one is knocked down) fell with the force hehad intended for Respectability upon his own shin. 

A train had pulled into the station, and a tired, travel-worn youngman, descending from a sleeper, walked rapidly up the street to learnthe occasion of what appeared to be a riot. When he was close enoughto understand its nature, he dropped his bag and came on at top speed, shouting loudly to the battered mongrel, who tried with his remainingstrength to leap toward him through a cordon of kicking legs, whileEugene Bantry again called to the policeman to fire. 

"If he does, damn you, I'll kill him!" Joe saw the revolver raised; andthen, Eugene being in his way, he ran full-tilt into his stepbrotherwith all his force, sending him to earth, and went on literally overhim as he lay prone upon the asphalt, that being the shortest way toRespectability. The next instant the mongrel was in his master's armsand weakly licking his hands. 

But it was Eskew Arp who had saved the little dog; for it was his stickwhich had tripped the clerk, and his hand which had struck him down. All his bodily strength had departed in that effort, but he staggeredout into the street toward Joe. 

"Joe Louden!" called the veteran, in a loud voice. "Joe Louden!" andsuddenly reeled. The Colonel and Squire Buckalew were making their waytoward him, but Joe, holding the dog to his breast with one arm, threwthe other about Eskew. 

"It's a town--it's a town"--the old fellow flung himself free from thesupporting arm--"it's a town you couldn't even trust a yellow dog to!"

He sank back upon Joe's shoulder, speechless. An open carriage haddriven through the crowd, the colored driver urged by two ladies uponthe back seat, and Martin Pike saw it stop by the group in the middleof the street where Joe stood, the wounded dog held to his breast byone arm, the old man, white and half fainting, supported by the other. Martin Pike saw this and more; he saw Ariel Tabor and his own daughterleaning from the carriage, the arms of both pityingly extended to JoeLouden and his two burdens, while the stunned and silly crowd stoodround them staring, clouds of dust settling down upon them through thehot air. 

XX

THREE ARE ENLISTED

Now in that blazing noon Canaan looked upon a strange sight: an opencarriage whirling through Main Street behind two galloping bays; uponthe back seat a ghostly white old man with closed eyes, supported bytwo pale ladies, his head upon the shoulder of the taller; while besidethe driver, a young man whose coat and hands were bloody, worked overthe hurts of an injured dog. Sam Warden's whip sang across the horses;lather gathered on their flanks, and Ariel's voice steadily urged onthe pace: "Quicker, Sam, if you can. " For there was little breathleft in the body of Eskew Arp. 

Mamie, almost as white as the old man, was silent; but she had nothesitated in her daring, now that she had been taught to dare; she hadnot come to be Ariel's friend and honest follower for nothing; and itwas Mamie who had cried to Joe to lift Eskew into the carriage. "Youmust come too, " she said. "We will need you. " And so it came to passthat under the eyes of Canaan Joe Louden rode in Judge Pike's carriageat the bidding of Judge Pike's daughter. 

Toward Ariel's own house they sped with the stricken octogenarian, forhe was "alone in the world, " and she would not take him to the cottagewhere he had lived for many years by himself, a bleak little house, aderelict of the "early days" left stranded far down in the town betweena woollen-mill and the water-works. The workmen were beginning theirdinners under the big trees, but as Sam Warden drew in the latheredhorses at the gate, they set down their tin buckets hastily and ran tohelp Joe lift the old man out. Carefully they bore him into the houseand laid him upon a bed in one of the finished rooms. He did not speakor move and the workmen uncovered their heads as they went out, but Joeknew that they were mistaken. "It's all right, Mr. Arp, " he said, asAriel knelt by the bed with water and restoratives. "It's all right. Don't you worry. "

Then the veteran's lips twitched, and though his eyes remained closed, Joe saw that Eskew understood, for he gasped, feebly:"Pos-i-tive-ly--no--free--seats!"

To Mrs. Louden, sewing at an up-stairs window, the sight of her stepsondescending from Judge Pike's carriage was sufficiently startling, butwhen she saw Mamie Pike take Respectability from his master's arms andcarry him tenderly indoors, while Joe and Ariel occupied themselveswith Mr. Arp, the good lady sprang to her feet as if she had beenstung, regardlessly sending her work-basket and its contents scatteringover the floor, and ran down the stairs three steps at a time. 

At the front door she met her husband, entering for his dinner, and sheleaped at him. Had he seen? What was it? What had happened?

Mr. Louden rubbed his chin-beard, indulging himself in a pause whichwas like to prove fatal to his companion, finally vouchsafing theinformation that the doctor's buggy was just turning the corner; EskewArp had suffered a "stroke, " it was said, and, in Louden's opinion, wasa mighty sick man. His spouse replied in no uncertain terms that shehad seen quite that much for herself, urging him to continue, which hedid with a deliberation that caused her to recall their wedding-daywith a gust of passionate self-reproach. Presently he managed tointerrupt, reminding her that her dining-room windows commanded ascomprehensive a view of the next house as did the front steps, andafter a time her housewifely duty so far prevailed over her indignationat the man's unwholesome stolidity that she followed him down the hallto preside over the meal, not, however, to partake largely of itherself. 

Mr. Louden had no information of Eugene's mishap, nor had Mrs. Loudenany suspicion that all was not well with the young man, and, hearinghim enter the front door, she called to him that his dinner waswaiting. Eugene, however, made no reply and went up-stairs to his ownapartment without coming into the dining-room. 

A small crowd, neighboring children, servants, and negroes, hadgathered about Ariel's gate, and Mrs. Louden watched the working-mendisperse this assembly, gather up their tools, and depart; then Mamiecame out of the house, and, bowing sadly to three old men who wereentering the gate as she left it, stepped into her carriage and droveaway. The new-comers, Colonel Flitcroft, Squire Buckalew, and PeterBradbury, glanced at the doctor's buggy, shook their heads at oneanother, and slowly went up to the porch, where Joe met them. Mrs. Louden uttered a sharp exclamation, for the Colonel shook hands withher stepson. 

Perhaps Flitcroft himself was surprised; he had offered his hand almostunconsciously, and the greeting was embarrassed and perfunctory; buthis two companions, each in turn, gravely followed his lead, and Joe'sset face flushed a little. It was the first time in many years thatmen of their kind in Canaan had offered him this salutation. 

"He wouldn't let me send for you, " he told them. "He said he knewyou'd be here soon without that. " And he led the way to Eskew'sbedside. 

Joe and the doctor had undressed the old man, and had put him intonight-gear of Roger Tabor's, taken from an antique chest; it was softand yellow and much more like color than the face above it, for thewhite hair on the pillow was not whiter than that. Yet there was astrange youthfulness in the eyes of Eskew; an eerie, inexplicable, luminous, LIVE look; the thin cheeks seemed fuller than they had beenfor years; and though the heavier lines of age and sorrow could beseen, they appeared to have been half erased. He lay not in sunshine, but in clear light; the windows were open, the curtains restrained, forhe had asked them not to darken the room. 

The doctor was whispering in a doctor's way to Ariel at the end of theroom opposite the bed, when the three old fellows came in. None ofthem spoke immediately, and though all three cleared their throats withwhat they meant for casual cheerfulness, to indicate that the situationwas not at all extraordinary or depressing, it was to be seen that theColonel's chin trembled under his mustache, and his comrades showedsimilar small and unwilling signs of emotion. 

Eskew spoke first. "Well, boys?" he said, and smiled. 

That seemed to make it more difficult for the others; the three whiteheads bent silently over the fourth upon the pillow; and Ariel sawwaveringly, for her eyes suddenly filled, that the Colonel laid hisunsteady hand upon Eskew's, which was outside the coverlet. 

"It's--it's not, " said the old soldier, gently--"it's not on--on bothsides, is it, Eskew?"

Mr. Arp moved his hand slightly in answer. "It ain't paralysis, " hesaid. "They call it 'shock and exhaustion'; but it's more than that. It's just my time. I've heard the call. We've all been slidin' onthin ice this long time--and it's broke under me--"

"Eskew, Eskew!" remonstrated Peter Bradbury. "You'd oughtn't to talkthat-a-way! You only kind of overdone a little--heat o' the day, too, and--"

"Peter, " interrupted the sick man, with feeble asperity, "did you evermanage to fool me in your life?"

"No, Eskew. "

"Well, you're not doin' it now!"

Two tears suddenly loosed themselves from Squire Buckalew's eyelids, despite his hard endeavor to wink them away, and he turned from the bedtoo late to conceal what had happened. "There ain't any call to feelbad, " said Eskew. "It might have happened any time--in the night, maybe--at my house--and all alone--but here's Airie Tabor brought me toher own home and takin' care of me. I couldn't ask any better way togo, could I?"

"I don't know what we'll do, " stammered the Colonel, "if you--you talkabout goin' away from us, Eskew. We--we couldn't get along--"

"Well, sir, I'm almost kind of glad to think, " Mr. Arp murmured, between short struggles for breath, "that it 'll be--quieter--onthe--"National House" corner!"

A moment later he called the doctor faintly and asked for arestorative. "There, " he said, in a stronger voice and with a gleam ofsatisfaction in the vindication of his belief that he was dying. "Iwas almost gone then. _I_ know!" He lay panting for a moment, thenspoke the name of Joe Louden. 

Joe came quickly to the bedside. 

"I want you to shake hands with the Colonel and Peter and Buckalew. "

"We did, " answered the Colonel, infinitely surprised and troubled. "Weshook hands outside before we came in. "

"Do it again, " said Eskew. "I want to see you. "

And Joe, making shift to smile, was suddenly blinded, so that he couldnot see the wrinkled hands extended to him, and was fain to grope forthem. 

"God knows why we didn't all take his hand long ago, " said Eskew Arp. "I didn't because I was stubborn. I hated to admit that the argumentwas against me. I acknowledge it now before him and before you--and Iwant the word of it CARRIED!"

"It's all right, Mr. Arp, " began Joe, tremulously. "You mustn't--"

"Hark to me"--the old man's voice lifted higher: "If you'd everwhimpered, or give back-talk, or broke out the wrong way, it would ofbeen different. But you never did. I've watched you and I know; andyou've just gone your own way alone, with the town against you becauseyou got a bad name as a boy, and once we'd given you that, everythingyou did or didn't do, we had to give you a blacker one. Now it's timesome one stood by you! Airie Tabor 'll do that with all her soul andbody. She told me once I thought a good deal of you. She knew! But Iwant these three old friends of mine to do it, too. I was boys withthem and they'll do it, I think. They've even stood up fer you againstme, sometimes, but mostly fer the sake of the argument, I reckon; butnow they must do it when there's more to stand against than just mytalk. They saw it all to-day--the meanest thing I ever knew! I couldof stood it all except that!" Before they could prevent him he hadstruggled half upright in bed, lifting a clinched fist at the townbeyond the windows. "But, by God! when they got so low down they triedto kill your dog--"

He fell back, choking, in Joe's arms, and the physician bent over him, but Eskew was not gone, and Ariel, upon the other side of the room, could hear him whispering again for the restorative. She brought it, and when he had taken it, went quickly out-of-doors to the side yard. 

She sat upon a workman's bench under the big trees, hidden from thestreet shrubbery, and breathing deeply of the shaded air, began to cryquietly. Through the windows came the quavering voice of the old man, lifted again, insistent, a little querulous, but determined. Responsessounded, intermittently, from the Colonel, from Peter, and fromBuckalew, and now and then a sorrowful, yet almost humorous, protestfrom Joe; and so she made out that the veteran swore his three comradesto friendship with Joseph Louden, to lend him their countenance in allmatters, to stand by him in weal and woe, to speak only good of him anddefend him in the town of Canaan. Thus did Eskew Arp on the verge ofparting this life render justice. 

The gate clicked, and Ariel saw Eugene approaching through theshrubbery. One of his hands was bandaged, a thin strip ofcourt-plaster crossed his forehead from his left eyebrow to his hair, and his thin and agitated face showed several light scratches. 

"I saw you come out, " he said. "I've been waiting to speak to you. "

"The doctor told us to let him have his way in whatever he might ask. "Ariel wiped her eyes. "I'm afraid that means--"

"I didn't come to talk about Eskew Arp, " interrupted Eugene. "I'm notlaboring under any anxiety about him. You needn't be afraid; he's toosour to accept his conge so readily. "

"Please lower your voice, " she said, rising quickly and moving awayfrom him toward the house; but, as he followed, insisting sharply thathe must speak with her, she walked out of ear-shot of the windows, andstopping, turned toward him. 

"Very well, " she said. "Is it a message from Mamie?"

At this he faltered and hung fire. 

"Have you been to see her?" she continued. 

"I am anxious to know if her goodness and bravery caused her any--anydiscomfort at home. "

"You may set your mind at rest about that, " returned Eugene. "I wasthere when the Judge came home to dinner. I suppose you fear he mayhave been rough with her for taking my step-brother into the carriage. He was not. On the contrary, he spoke very quietly to her, and went onout toward the stables. But I haven't come to you to talk of JudgePike, either!"

"No, " said Ariel. "I don't care particularly to hear of him, but ofMamie. "

"Nor of her, either!" he broke out. "I want to talk of you!"

There was not mistaking him; no possibility of misunderstanding thereal passion that shook him, and her startled eyes betrayed hercomprehension. 

"Yes, I see you understand, " he cried, bitterly. "That's because you'veseen others the same way. God help me, " he went on, striking hisforehead with his open hand, "that young fool of a Bradbury told me yourefused him only yesterday! He was proud of even rejection from you!And there's Norbert--and half a dozen others, perhaps, already, sinceyou've been here. " He flung out his arms in ludicrous, savage despair. "And here am I--"

"Ah yes, " she cut him off, "it is of yourself that you want to speak, after all--not of me!"

"Look here, " he vociferated; "are you going to marry that Joe Louden?I want to know whether you are or not. He gave me this--and thisto-day!" He touched his bandaged hand and plastered forehead. "He raninto me--over me--for nothing, when I was not on my guard; struck medown--stamped on me--"

She turned upon him, cheeks aflame, eyes sparkling and dry. 

"Mr. Bantry, " she cried, "he did a good thing! And now I want you to gohome. I want you to go home and try if you can discover anything inyourself that is worthy of Mamie and of what she showed herself to bethis morning! If you can, you will have found something that I couldlike!"

She went rapidly toward the house, and he was senseless enough tofollow, babbling: "What do you think I'm made of? You trample onme--as he did! I can't bear everything; I tell you--"

But she lifted her hand with such imperious will that he stopped short. Then, through the window of the sick-room came clearly the querulousvoice:

"I tell you it was; I heard him speak just now--out there in the yard, that no-account step-brother of Joe's! What if he IS a hired hand onthe Tocsin? He'd better give up his job and quit, than do what he'sdone to help make the town think hard of Joe. And what IS he? Why, he's worse than Cory. When that Claudine Fear first came here, 'GeneBantry was hangin' around her himself. Joe knew it and he'd never tell, but I will. I saw 'em buggy-ridin' out near Beaver Beach and sheslapped his face fer him. It ought to be TOLD!"

"I didn't know that Joe knew--that!" Eugene stammered huskily. "Itwas--it was--a long time ago--"

"If you understood Joe, " she said, in a low voice, "you would know thatbefore these men leave this house, he will have their promise never totell. "

His eyes fell miserably, then lifted again; but in her clear andunbearable gaze there shone such a flame of scorn as he could notendure to look upon. For the first time in his life he saw a true lightupon himself, and though the vision was darkling, the revelation wascomplete. 

"Heaven pity you!" she whispered. 

Eugene found himself alone, and stumbled away, his glance not lifted. He passed his own home without looking up, and did not see his motherbeckoning frantically from a window. She ran to the door and calledhim. He did not hear her, but went on toward the Tocsin office withhis head still bent. 

XXI

NORBERT WAITS FOR JOE

There was meat for gossip a plenty in Canaan that afternoon andevening; there were rumors that ran from kitchen to parlor, and rumorsthat ran from parlor to kitchen; speculations that detained housewivesin talk across front gates; wonderings that held cooks in converse overshadeless back fences in spite of the heat; and canards that broughtMain Street clerks running to the shop doors to stare up and down thesidewalks. Out of the confusion of report, the judicious were able byevenfall to extract a fair history of this day of revolution. Thereremained no doubt that Joe Louden was in attendance at the death-bed ofEskew Arp, and somehow it came to be known that Colonel Flitcroft, Squire Buckalew, and Peter Bradbury had shaken hands with Joe anddeclared themselves his friends. There were those (particularly amongthe relatives of the hoary trio) who expressed the opinion that theColonel and his comrades were too old to be responsible and acommission ought to sit on them; nevertheless, some echoes of Eskew'slast "argument" to the conclave had sounded in the town and were notwholly without effect. 

Everywhere there was a nipping curiosity to learn how Judge Pike had"taken" the strange performance of his daughter, and the eager weremuch disappointed when it was truthfully reported that he had done andsaid very little. He had merely discharged both Sam Warden and Sam'swife from his service, the mild manner of the dismissal almostunnerving Mr. Warden, although he was fully prepared for bird-shot; andthe couple had found immediate employment in the service of Ariel Tabor. 

Those who humanly felt the Judge's behavior to be a trifle flat andunsensational were recompensed late in the afternoon when it becameknown that Eugene Bantry had resigned his position on the Tocsin. Hisreason for severing his connection was dumfounding; he had written aformal letter to the Judge and repeated the gist of it to hisassociates in the office and acquaintances upon the street. Hedeclared that he no longer sympathized with the attitude of the Tocsintoward his step-brother, and regretted that he had previously assistedin emphasizing the paper's hostility to Joe, particularly in the matterof the approaching murder trial. This being the case, he felt that hiseffectiveness in the service of the paper had ceased, and he must, injustice to the owner, resign. 

"Well, I'm damned!" was the simple comment of the elder Louden when hisstep-son sought him out at the factory and repeated this statement tohim. 

"So am I, I think, " said Eugene, wanly. "Good-bye. I'm going now tosee mother, but I'll be gone before you come home. "

"Gone where?"

"Just away. I don't know where, " Eugene answered from the door. "Icouldn't live here any longer. I--"

"You've been drinking, " said Mr. Louden, inspired. "You'd better notlet Mamie Pike see you. "

Eugene laughed desolately. "I don't mean to. I shall write to her. Good-bye, " he said, and was gone before Mr. Louden could restore enoughorder out of the chaos in his mind to stop him. 

Thus Mrs. Louden's long wait at the window was tragically rewarded, andshe became an unhappy actor in Canaan's drama of that day. Otherladies attended at other windows, or near their front doors, throughoutthe afternoon: the families of the three patriarchs awaiting theirreturn, as the time drew on, with something akin to frenzy. Mrs. Flitcroft (a lady of temper), whose rheumatism confined her to a chair, had her grandson wheel her out upon the porch, and, as the dusk felland she finally saw her husband coming at a laggard pace, leaning uponhis cane, his chin sunk on his breast, she frankly told Norbert thatalthough she had lived with that man more than fifty-seven years, shewould never be able to understand him. She repeated this with genuinesymptoms of hysteria when she discovered that the Colonel had not comestraight from the Tabor house, but had stopped two hours at PeterBradbury's to "talk it over. "

One item of his recital, while sufficiently startling to his wife, hada remarkable effect upon his grandson. This was the information thatAriel Tabor's fortune no longer existed. 

"What's that?" cried Norbert, starting to his feet. "What are youtalking about?"

"It's true, " said the Colonel, deliberately. "She told me so herself. Eskew had dropped off into a sort of doze--more like a stupor, perhaps, --and we all went into Roger's old studio, except Louden andthe doctor, and while we were there, talkin', one of Pike's clerks camewith a basket full of tin boxes and packages of papers and talked toMiss Tabor at the door and went away. Then old Peter blundered out andasked her point-blank what it was, and she said it was her estate, almost everything she had, except the house. Buckalew, tryin' to makea joke, said he'd be willin' to swap HIS house and lot for the basket, and she laughed and told him she thought he'd be sorry; that all therewas, to speak of, was a pile of distillery stock--" "What?" repeatedNorbert, incredulously. 

"Yes. It was the truth, " said the Colonel, solemnly. "I saw itmyself: blocks and blocks of stock in that distillery trust that wentup higher'n a kite last year. Roger had put all of Jonas's goodmoney--"

"Not into that!" shouted Norbert, uncontrollably excited. 

"Yes, he did. I tell you I saw it!"

"I tell you he didn't. He owned Granger Gas, worth more to-day than itever was! Pike was Roger's attorney-in-fact and bought it for himbefore the old man died. The check went through my hands. You don'tthink I'd forget as big a check as that, do you, even if it was morethan a year ago? Or how it was signed and who made out to? It wasMartin Pike that got caught with distillery stock. He speculated oncetoo often!"

"No, you're wrong, " persisted the Colonel. "I tell you I saw itmyself. "

"Then you're blind, " returned his grandson, disrespectfully; "you'reblind or else--or else--" He paused, open-mouthed, a look of wonderstruggling its way to expression upon him, gradually conquering everyknobby outpost of his countenance. He struck his fat hands together. "Where's Joe Louden?" he asked, sharply. "I want to see him. Did youleave him at Miss Tabor's?"

"He's goin' to sit up with Eskew. What do you want of him?"

"I should say you better ask that!" Mrs. Flitcroft began, shrilly. "It's enough, I guess, for one of this family to go runnin' after himand shakin' hands with him and Heaven knows what not! NORBERTFLITCROFT!"

But Norbert jumped from the porch, ruthlessly crossed his grandmother'sgeranium-bed, and, making off at as sharp a pace as his architecturepermitted, within ten minutes opened Ariel's gate. 

Sam Warden came forward to meet him. 

"Don't ring, please, suh, " said Sam. "Dey sot me out heah to tellinquirin' frien's dat po' ole Mist' Arp mighty low. "

"I want to see Mr. Louden, " returned Norbert. "I want to see himimmediately. "

"I don' reckon he kin come out yit, " Sam said, in a low tone. "But Ikin go in an' ast 'em. "

He stepped softly within, leaving Norbert waiting, and went to the doorof the sick-room. The door was open, the room brightly lighted, asEskew had commanded when, a little earlier, he awoke. 

Joe and Ariel were alone with him, leaning toward him with such whiteanxiety that the colored man needed no warning to make him remainsilent in the hallway. The veteran was speaking and his voice was veryweak, seeming to come from a great distance. 

"It's mighty funny, but I feel like I used to when I was a little boy. I reckon I'm kind of scared--after all. Airie Tabor, --are you--here?"

"Yes, Mr. Arp. "

"I thought--so--but I--I don't see very well--lately. I--wanted--to--know--to know--"

"Yes--to know?" She knelt close beside him. 

"It's kind of--foolish, " he whispered. "I just--wanted to know if youwas still here. It--don't seem so lonesome now that I know. "

She put her arm lightly about him and he smiled and was silent for atime. Then he struggled to rise upon his elbow, and they lifted him alittle. 

"It's hard to breathe, " gasped the old man. "I'm pretty near--the bigroad. Joe Louden--"

"Yes?"

"You'd have been--willing--willing to change places with me--justnow--when Airie--"

Joe laid his hand on his, and Eskew smiled again. "I thought so! And, Joe--"

"Yes?"

"You always--always had the--the best of that joke between us. Doyou--you suppose they charge admission--up there?" His eyes werelifted. "Do you suppose you've got to--to show your good deeds to gitin?" The answering whisper was almost as faint as the old man's. 

"No, " panted Eskew, "nobody knows. But I hope--I do hope--they'll havesome free seats. It's a--mighty poor show--we'll--all have--ifthey--don't!"

He sighed peacefully, his head grew heavier on Joe's arm; and the youngman set his hand gently upon the unseeing eyes. Ariel did not risefrom where she knelt, but looked up at him when, a little later, helifted his hand. 

"Yes, " said Joe, "you can cry now. "

XXII

MR. SHEEHAN SPEAKS

Joe helped to carry what was mortal of Eskew from Ariel's house to itsfinal abiding-place. With him, in that task, were Buckalew, Bradbury, the Colonel, and the grandsons of the two latter, and Mrs. Louden drewin her skirts grimly as her step-son passed her in the mournfulprocession through the hall. Her eyes were red with weeping (not forEskew), but not so red as those of Mamie Pike, who stood beside her. 

On the way to the cemetery, Joe and Ariel were together in a carriagewith Buckalew and the minister who had read the service, a dark, pleasant-eyed young man;--and the Squire, after being almost overcomeduring the ceremony, experienced a natural reaction, talking cheerfullythroughout the long drive. He recounted many anecdotes of Eskew, chuckling over most of them, though filled with wonder by a coincidencewhich he and Flitcroft had discovered; the Colonel had recently beenmade the custodian of his old friend's will, and it had been opened theday before the funeral. Eskew had left everything he possessed--withthe regret that it was so little--to Joe. 

"But the queer thing about it, " said the Squire, addressing himself toAriel, "was the date of it, the seventeenth of June. The Colonel and Igot to talkin' it over, out on his porch, last night, tryin' torec'lect what was goin' on about then, and we figgered it out that itwas the Monday after you come back, the very day he got so upset whenhe saw you goin' up to Louden's law-office with your roses. "

Joe looked quickly at Ariel. She did not meet his glance, but, turninginstead to Ladew, the clergyman, began, with a barely perceptibleblush, to talk of something he had said in a sermon two weeks ago. Thetwo fell into a thoughtful and amiable discussion, during which therestole into Joe's heart a strange and unreasonable pain. The youngminister had lived in Canaan only a few months, and Joe had never seenhim until that morning; but he liked the short, honest talk he hadmade; liked his cadenceless voice and keen, dark face; and, recallingwhat he had heard Martin Pike vociferating in his brougham one Sunday, perceived that Ladew was the fellow who had "got to go" because hissermons did not please the Judge. Yet Ariel remembered for more than afortnight a passage from one of these sermons. And as Joe looked at themanly and intelligent face opposite him, it did not seem strange thatshe should. 

He resolutely turned his eyes to the open window and saw that they hadentered the cemetery, were near the green knoll where Eskew was to liebeside a brother who had died long ago. He let the minister help Arielout, going quickly forward himself with Buckalew; and then--after thelittle while that the restoration of dust to dust mercifully needs--hereturned to the carriage only to get his hat. 

Ariel and Ladew and the Squire were already seated and waiting. "Aren't you going to ride home with us?" she asked, surprised. 

"No, " he explained, not looking at her. "I have to talk with NorbertFlitcroft. I'm going back with him. Good-bye. "

His excuse was the mere truth, his conversation with Norbert, in thecarriage which they managed to secure to themselves, continuingearnestly until Joe spoke to the driver and alighted at a corner, nearMr. Farbach's Italian possessions. "Don't forget, " he said, as heclosed the carriage door, "I've got to have both ends of the string inmy hands. "

"Forget!" Norbert looked at the cupola of the Pike Mansion, risingabove the maples down the street. "It isn't likely I'll forget!"

When Joe entered the "Louis Quinze room" which some decorator, drunkwith power, had mingled into the brewer's villa, he found the owner andMr. Sheehan, with five other men, engaged in a meritorious attempt totone down the apartment with smoke. Two of the five others wereprosperous owners of saloons; two were known to the public (whosenotion of what it meant when it used the term was something of thevaguest) as politicians; the fifth was Mr. Farbach's closest friend, one who (Joe had heard) was to be the next chairman of the citycommittee of the party. They were seated about a table, enveloped inblue clouds, and hushed to a grave and pertinent silence whichclarified immediately the circumstance that whatever debate hadpreceded his arrival, it was now settled. 

Their greeting of him, however, though exceedingly quiet, indicated acertain expectancy, as he accepted the chair which had been left forhim at the head of the table. He looked thinner and paler than usual, which is saying a great deal; but presently, finding that the fatefulhush which his entrance had broken was immediately resumed, a twinklecame into his eye, one of his eyebrows went up and a corner of hismouth went down. 

"Well, gentlemen?" he said. 

The smokers continued to smoke and to do nothing else; the exceptionbeing Mr. Sheehan, who, though he spoke not, exhibited tokens ofagitation and excitement which he curbed with difficulty; shiftingabout in his chair, gnawing his cigar, crossing and uncrossing hisknees, rubbing and slapping his hands together, clearing his throatwith violence, his eyes fixed all the while, as were those of hiscompanions, upon Mr. Farbach; so that Joe was given to perceive that ithad been agreed that the brewer should be the spokesman. Mr. Farbachwas deliberate, that was all, which added to the effect of what hefinally did say. 

"Choe, " he remarked, placidly, "you are der next Mayor off Canaan. "

"Why do you say that?" asked the young man, sharply. 

"Bickoss us here, " he answered, interlocking the tips of his fingersover his waistcoat, that being as near folding his hands as lay withinhis power, --"bickoss us here shall try to fix it so, und so hefditcided. "

Joe took a deep breath. "Why do you want me?"

"Dot, " replied the brewer, "iss someding I shall tell you. " He pausedto contemplate his cigar. "We want you bickoss you are der best man ferdot positsion. "

"Louie, you mustn't make a mistake at the beginning, " Joe said, hurriedly. "I may not be the kind of man you're looking for. If Iwent in--" He hesitated, stammering. "It seems an ungrateful thing tosay, but--but there wouldn't be any slackness--I couldn't be bound toanybody--"

"Holt up your hosses!" Mr. Farbach, once in his life, was so ready toreply that he was able to interrupt. "Who hef you heert speak offbounding? Hef I speakt off favors? Dit I say der shoult be slacknessin der city gofer'ment? Litsen to me, Choe. " He renewed hiscontemplation of his cigar, then proceeded: "I hef been t'inkin' itofer, now a couple years. I hef mate up my mind. If some peobles aregombelt to keep der laws and oders are not, dot's a great atwantitch toder oders. Dot iss what iss ruining der gountry und der peobles isscommencement to take notice. Efer'veres in oder towns der isshousecleaning; dey are reforming und indieding, und pooty soon dotmofement comes here--shoo-er! If we intent to holt der parsly inpower, we shoult be a leetle ahead off dot mofement so, when it shoultbe here, we hef a goot 'minadstration to fall beck on. Now, dere issanoder brewery opened und trying to gombete mit me here in Canaan. Ifdot brewery owns der Mayor, all der tsaloons buying my bier must shutup at 'leven o'glock und Sundays, but der oders keep open. If I ownder Mayor, I make der same against dot oder brewery. Now I am pootysick off dot ways off bitsness und fighting all times. Also, " Mr. Farbach added, with magnificent calmness, "my trade iss larchlyowitside off Canaan, und it iss bedder dot here der laws shoult beenforced der same fer all. Litsen, Choe; all us here beliefs der sameway. You are square. Der whole tsaloon element knows dot, und knowsdot all voult be treated der same. Mit you it voult be fairness fereach one. Foolish peobles hef sait you are a law-tricker, but we knowdot you hef only mate der laws brotect as well as bunish. Und at suchtimes as dey het been broken, you hef made dem as mertsiful as youcoult. You are no tricker. We are willing to help you make it a gleantown. Odervise der fightin' voult go on until der mofement strikes hereund all der granks vake up und we git a fool reformer fer Mayor und dertown goes to der dogs. If I try to put in a man dot I own, der oderbrewery iss goin' to fight like hell, but if I work fer you it will notfight so hart. "

"But the other people, " Joe objected, "those outside of what is calledthe saloon element--do you understand how many of them will be againstme?"

"It iss der tsaloon element, " Mr. Farbach returned, peacefully, "dotdoes der fightin'. "

"And you have considered my standing with that part of Canaan whichconsiders itself the most respectable section?" He rose to his feet, standing straight and quiet, facing the table, upon which, it chanced, there lay a copy of the Tocsin. 

"Und yet, " observed Mr. Farbach, with mildness, "we got some pootyrisbecdable men right here. "

"Except me, " broke in Mr. Sheehan, grimly, "you have. "

"Have you thought of this?" Joe leaned forward and touched the paperupon the table. 

"We hef, " replied Mr. Farbach. "All of us. You shall beat it. "

There was a strong chorus of confirmation from the others, and Joe'seyes flashed. 

"Have you considered, " he continued, rapidly, while a warm color beganto conquer his pallor, --"have you considered the powerful influencewhich will be against me, and more against me now, I should tell you, than ever before? That influence, I mean, which is striving so hard todiscredit me that lynch-law has been hinted for poor Fear if I shouldclear him! Have you thought of that? Have you thought--"

"Have we thought o' Martin Pike?" exclaimed Mr. Sheehan, springing tohis feet, face aflame and beard bristling. "Ay, we've thought o'Martin Pike, and our thinkin' of him is where he begins to git what'scomin' to him! What d'ye stand there pickin' straws fer? What's thematter with ye?" he demanded, angrily, his violence tenfold increasedby the long repression he had put upon himself during the brewer'sdeliberate utterances. "If Louie Farbach and his crowd says they're ferye, I guess ye've got a chanst, haven't ye?"

"Wait, " said Joe. "I think you underestimate Pike's influence--"

"Underestimate the devil!" shouted Mr. Sheehan, uncontrollably excited. "You talk about influence! He's been the worst influence this town'sever had--and his tracks covered up in the dark wherever he set hisugly foot down. These men know it, and you know some, but not theworst of it, because none of ye live as deep down in it as I do! Yewant to make a clean town of it, ye want to make a little heaven of theBeach--"

"And in the eyes of Judge Pike, " Joe cut him off, "and of all who taketheir opinions from him, I REPRESENT Beaver Beach!"

Mike Sheehan gave a wild shout. "Whooroo! It's come! I knowed itwould! The day I couldn't hold my tongue, though I passed my word Iwould when the coward showed the deed he didn't dare to git recorded!Waugh!" He shouted again, with bitter laughter. "Ye do! In the eyeso' them as follow Martin Pike ye stand fer the Beach and all itswickedness, do ye? Whooroo! It's come! Ye're an offence in the eyeso' Martin Pike and all his kind because ye stand fer the Beach, are ye?"

"You know it!" Joe answered, sharply. "If they could wipe the Beachoff the map and me with it--"

"Martin Pike would?" shouted Mr. Sheehan, while the others, open-mouthed, stared at him. "Martin Pike would?"

"I don't need to tell you that, " said Joe. 

Mr. Sheehan's big fist rose high over the table and descended crashingupon it. "It's a damn lie!" he roared. "Martin Pike owns BeaverBeach!"

XXIII

JOE WALKS ACROSS THE COURT-HOUSE YARD

From within the glossy old walnut bar that ran from wall to wall, theeyes of the lawyers and reporters wandered often to Ariel as she sat inthe packed court-room watching Louden's fight for the life and libertyof Happy Fear. She had always three escorts, and though she did notmiss a session, and the same three never failed to attend her, nowhisper of scandal arose. But not upon them did the glances of themembers of the bar and the journalists with tender frequency linger;nor were the younger members of these two professions all who gazedthat way. Joe had fought out the selection of the jury with theprosecutor at great length and with infinite pains; it was not a youngjury, and IT stared at her. The "Court" wore a gray beard with which aflock of sparrows might have villaged a grove, and yet, in spite of thevital necessity for watchfulness over this fighting case, IT onceneeded to be stirred from a trancelike gaze in Miss Tabor's directionand aroused to the realization that It was there to Sit and not todream. 

The August air was warm outside the windows, inviting to the opencountry, to swimmin'-hole, to orchard reveries, or shaded pool whereinto drop a meditative line; you would have thought no one couldwillingly coop himself in this hot room for three hours, twice a day, while lawyers wrangled, often unintelligibly, over the life of a dingylittle creature like Happy Fear, yet the struggle to swelter there wasalmost like a riot, and the bailiffs were busy men. 

It was a fighting case throughout, fought to a finish on each tinypoint as it came up, dragging, in the mere matter of time, interminably, yet the people of Canaan (not only those who succeeded inpenetrating to the court-room, but the others who hung about thecorridors, or outside the building, and the great mass of stay-at-homeswho read the story in the Tocsin) found each moment of it enthrallingenough. The State's attorney, fearful of losing so notorious a case, and not underestimating his opponent, had modestly summoned others tohis aid; and the attorney for the defence, single-handed, faced "anarray of legal talent such as seldom indeed had hollered at this bar";faced it good-naturedly, an eyebrow crooked up and his head on oneside, most of the time, yet faced it indomitably. He had a certaincareless and disarming smile when he lost a point, which carried offthe defeat as of only humorous account and not at all part of theserious business in hand; and in his treatment of witnesses, he wasplausible, kindly, knowing that in this case he had no intendingperjurer to entrap; brought into play the rare and delicate art ofwhich he was a master, employing in his questions subtle suggestionsand shadings of tone and manner, and avoiding words of debatable anddangerous meanings;--a fine craft, often attempted by blunderers totheir own undoing, but which, practised by Joseph Louden, madeinarticulate witnesses articulate to the precise effects which hedesired. This he accomplished as much by the help of the continuousfire of objections from the other side as in spite of them. He wasinfinitely careful, asking never an ill-advised question for the otherside to use to his hurt, and, though exhibiting only a pleasanteasiness of manner, was electrically alert. 

A hundred things had shown Ariel that the feeling of the place, influenced by "public sentiment" without, was subtly and profoundlyhostile to Joe and his client; she read this in the spectators, in thejury, even in the Judge; but it seemed to her that day by day theinimical spirit gradually failed, inside the railing, and also in thosespectators who, like herself, were enabled by special favor to bepresent throughout the trial, and that now and then a kindliersentiment began to be manifested. She was unaware how strongly shecontributed to effect this herself, not only through the glow ofvisible sympathy which radiated from her, but by a particular action. Claudine was called by the State, and told as much of her story as thelaw permitted her to tell, interlarding her replies with ferventprotestations (too quick to be prevented) that she "never meant tobring no trouble to Mr. Fear" and that she "did hate to have gen'lemenstarting things on her account. " When the defence took this perturbedwitness, her interpolations became less frequent, and she describedstraightforwardly how she had found the pistol on the floor near theprostrate figure of Cory, and hidden it in her own dress. Theattorneys for the State listened with a somewhat cynical amusement tothis portion of her testimony, believing it of no account, uncorroborated, and that if necessary the State could impeach thewitness on the ground that it had been indispensable to produce her. She came down weeping from the stand; and, the next witness not beingimmediately called, the eyes of the jurymen naturally followed her asshe passed to her seat, and they saw Ariel Tabor bow gravely to heracross the railing. Now, a thousand things not set forth bylegislatures, law-men and judges affect a jury, and the slightsalutation caused the members of this one to glance at one another; forit seemed to imply that the exquisite lady in white not only knewClaudine, but knew that she had spoken the truth. It was after this, that a feeling favorable to the defence now and then noticeablymanifested itself in the courtroom. Still, when the evidence for theState was all in, the life of Happy Fear seemed to rest in a balanceprecarious indeed, and the little man, swallowing pitifully, looked athis attorney with the eyes of a sick dog. 

Then Joe gave the prosecutors an illuminating and stunning surprise, and, having offered in evidence the revolver found upon Claudine, produced as his first witness a pawnbroker of Denver, who identifiedthe weapon as one he had sold to Cory, whom he had known very well. The second witness, also a stranger, had been even more intimatelyacquainted with the dead man, and there began to be an uneasycomprehension of what Joe had accomplished during that prolongedabsence of his which had so nearly cost the life of the little mongrel, who was at present (most blissful Respectability!) a livelyconvalescent in Ariel's back yard. The second witness also identifiedthe revolver, testifying that he had borrowed it from Cory in St. Louisto settle a question of marksmanship, and that on his returning it tothe owner, the latter, then working his way eastward, had confided tohim his intention of stopping in Canaan for the purpose of exercisingits melancholy functions upon a man who had once "done him good" inthat city. 

By the time the witness had reached this point, the Prosecutor and hisassistants were on their feet, excitedly shouting objections, whichwere promptly overruled. Taken unawares, they fought for time; thunderwas loosed, forensic bellowings; everybody lost his temper--except Joe;and the examination of the witness proceeded. Cory, with that singularinspiration to confide in some one, which is the characteristic and theundoing of his kind, had outlined his plan of operations to the witnesswith perfect clarity. He would first attempt, so he had declared, toincite an attack upon himself by playing upon the jealousy of hisvictim, having already made a tentative effort in that direction. Failing in this, he would fall back upon one of a dozen schemes (for hewas ready in such matters, he bragged), the most likely of which wouldbe to play the peacemaker; he would talk of his good intentions towardhis enemy, speaking publicly of him in friendly and gentle ways; then, getting at him secretly, destroy him in such a fashion as to leave openfor himself the kind gate of self-defence. In brief, here was thewhole tally of what had actually occurred, with the exception of thelast account in the sequence which had proved that demise for whichCory had not arranged and it fell from the lips of a witness whom theprosecution had no means of impeaching. When he left the stand, unshaken and undiscredited, after a frantic cross-examination, Joe, turning to resume his seat, let his hand fall lightly for a second uponhis client's shoulder. 

That was the occasion of a demonstration which indicated a sentimentfavorable to the defence (on the part of at least three of thespectators); and it was in the nature of such a hammering of canes uponthe bare wooden floor as effectually stopped all other proceedingsinstantly. The indignant Judge fixed the Colonel, Peter Bradbury, andSquire Buckalew with his glittering eye, yet the hammering continuedunabated; and the offenders surely would have been conducted forth inignominy, had not gallantry prevailed, even in that formal place. TheJudge, reluctantly realizing that some latitude must be allowed tothese aged enthusiasts, since they somehow seemed to belong to MissTabor, made his remarks general, with the time-worn threat to clear theroom, whereupon the loyal survivors of Eskew relapsed into unabashedsilence. 

It was now, as Joe had said, a clear-enough case. Only the case itself, however, was clear, for, as he and his friends feared, the verdictmight possibly be neither in accordance with the law, the facts, northe convictions of the jury. Eugene's defection had not altered thetone of the Tocsin. 

All day long a crowd of men and boys hung about the corridors of theCourt-house, about the Square and the neighboring streets, and fromthese rose sombre murmurs, more and more ominous. The public sentimentof a community like Canaan can make itself felt inside a court-room;and it was strongly exerted against Happy Fear. The Tocsin had alwaysbeen a powerful agent; Judge Pike had increased its strength with astaff which was thoroughly efficient, alert, and always able to strikecentre with the paper's readers; and in town and country it hadabsorbed the circulation of the other local journals, which resistedfeebly at times, but in the matter of the Cory murder had not dared todo anything except follow the Tocsin's lead. The Tocsin, having litthe fire, fed it--fed it saltpetre and sulphur--for now Martin Pike wasfighting hard. 

The farmers and people of the less urban parts of the country wereaccustomed to found their opinions upon the Tocsin. They regarded itas the single immutable rock of journalistic righteousness and wisdomin the world. Consequently, stirred by the outbursts of the paper, they came into Canaan in great numbers, and though the pressure fromthe town itself was so strong that only a few of them managed to crowdinto the court-room, the others joined their voices to those sombremurmurs outdoors, which increased in loudness as the trial went on. 

The Tocsin, however, was not having everything its own way; the volumeof outcry against Happy Fear and his lawyer had diminished, it wasnoticed, in "very respectable quarters. " The information imparted byMike Sheehan to the politicians at Mr. Farbach's had been slowlyseeping through the various social strata of the town, and though atfirst incredulously rejected, it began to find acceptance; Upper MainStreet cooling appreciably in its acceptance of the Tocsin as the lawand the prophets. There were even a few who dared to wonder in theirhearts if there had not been a mistake about Joe Louden; and althoughMrs. Flitcroft weakened not, the relatives of Squire Buckalew and ofPeter Bradbury began to hold up their heads a little, after having madehome horrible for those gentlemen and reproached them with theirconversion as the last word of senile shame. In addition, theColonel's grandson and Mr. Bradbury's grandson had both mystifyinglylent countenance to Joe, consorting with him openly; the former for hisown purposes--the latter because he had cunningly discovered that itwas a way to Miss Tabor's regard, which, since her gentle rejection ofhim, he had grown to believe (good youth!) might be the pleasantestthing that could ever come to him. In short, the question had begun tothrive: Was it possible that Eskew Arp had not been insane, after all?

The best of those who gathered ominously about the Court-house and itspurlieus were the young farmers and field-hands, artisans and clerks;one of the latter being a pimply faced young man (lately from thedoctor's hands), who limped, and would limp for the rest of his life, he who, of all men, held the memory of Eskew Arp in least respect, andwas burningly desirous to revenge himself upon the living. 

The worst were of that mystifying, embryonic, semi-rowdy type, theAmerican voyou, in the production of which Canaan and her sister townseverywhere over the country are prolific; the young man, youth, boyperhaps, creature of nameless age, whose clothes are like those of abrakeman out of work, but who is not a brakeman in or out of work;wearing the black, soft hat tilted forward to shelter--as a counterdoes the contempt of a clerk--that expression which the face does notdare wear quite in the open, asserting the possession of supremecapacity in wit, strength, dexterity, and amours; the dirtyhandkerchief under the collar; the short black coat alwaysdouble-breasted; the eyelids sooty; one cheek always bulged; theforehead speckled; the lips cracked; horrible teeth; and theaffectation of possessing secret information upon all matters of theuniverse; above all, the instinct of finding the shortest way to anyscene of official interest to the policeman, fireman, or ambulancesurgeon, --a singular being, not professionally criminal; toughhistrionically rather than really; full of its own argot of brag;hysterical when crossed, timid through great ignorance, and thereforedangerous. It furnishes not the leaders but the mass of mobs; and itsprings up at times of crisis from Heaven knows where. You might havedriven through all the streets of Canaan, a week before the trial, andhave seen four or five such fellows; but from the day of its beginningthe Square was full of them, dingy shuttlecocks batted up into view bythe Tocsin. 

They kept the air whirring with their noise. The news of that sittingwhich had caused the Squire, Flitcroft, and Peter Bradbury to risk theCourt's displeasure, was greeted outside with loud and vehementdisfavor; and when, at noon, the jurymen were marshalled out to crossthe yard to the "National House" for dinner, a large crowd followed andsurrounded them, until they reached the doors of the hotel. "Don't letLawyer Louden bamboozle you!" "Hang him!" "Tar and feathers fer ye efye don't hang him!" These were the mildest threats, and Joe Louden, watching from an upper window of the Court-house, observed with atroubled eye how certain of the jury shrank from the pressure of thethrong, how the cheeks of others showed sudden pallor. Sometimes"public sentiment" has done evil things to those who have not sharedit; and Joe knew how rare a thing is a jury which dares to stand squareagainst a town like Canaan aroused. 

The end of that afternoon's session saw another point marked for thedefence; Joe had put the defendant on the stand, and the little man hadproved an excellent witness. During his life he had been manythings--many things disreputable; high standards were not brightlyillumined for him in the beginning of the night-march which his lifehad been. He had been a tramp, afterward a petty gambler; but hisgreat motive had finally come to be the intention to do what Joe toldhim to do: that, and to keep Claudine as straight as he could. In ameasure, these were the two things that had brought him to the pass inwhich he now stood, his loyalty to Joe and his resentment of whatevertampered with Claudine's straightness. He was submissive to theconsequences: he was still loyal. And now Joe asked him to tell "justwhat happened, " and Happy obeyed with crystal clearness. Throughoutthe long, tricky cross-examination he continued to tell "just whathappened" with a plaintive truthfulness not to be imitated, andthroughout it Joe guarded him from pitfalls (for lawyers in theirsearch after truth are compelled by the exigencies of their professionto make pitfalls even for the honest), and gave him, by variousdevices, time to remember, though not to think, and made the words"come right" in his mouth. So that before the sitting was over, adisquieting rumor ran through the waiting crowd in the corridors, across the Square, and over the town, that the case was surely going"Louden's way. " This was also the opinion of a looker-on in Canaan--aferret-faced counsellor of corporations who, called to consultationwith the eminent Buckalew (nephew of the Squire), had afterward spentan hour in his company at the trial. "It's going that young fellowLouden's way, " said the stranger. "You say he's a shyster, but--"

"Well, " admitted Buckalew, with some reluctance, "I don't mean thatexactly. I've got an old uncle who seems lately to think he's a greatman. "

"I'll take your uncle's word for it, " returned the other, smiling. "Ithink he'll go pretty far. "

They had come to the flight of steps which descended to the yard, --andthe visitor, looking down upon the angry crowd, added, "If they don'tkill him!"

Joe himself was anxious concerning no such matter. He shook hands withHappy at the end of the sitting, bidding him be of good cheer, and, when the little man had marched away, under a strong guard, began togather and sort his papers at a desk inside the bar. This took himperhaps five minutes, and when he had finished there were only threepeople left in the room: a clerk, a negro janitor with a broom, and thedarky friend who always hopefully accompanies a colored man holdinghigh public office. These two approvingly greeted the young lawyer, the janitor handing him a note from Norbert Flitcroft, and the friendmechanically "borrowing" a quarter from him as he opened the envelope. 

"I'll be roun' yo' way to git a box o' SE-gahs, " laughed the friend, "soon ez de campaign open up good. Dey all goin' vote yo' way, down onthe levee bank, but dey sho' expecks to git to smoke a little 'fo'leckshun-day! We knows who's OW frien'!"

Norbert's missive was lengthy and absorbing; Joe went on his way, perusing it with profound attention; but as he descended the stairwayto the floor below, a loud burst of angry shouting, outside thebuilding, caused him to hasten toward the big front doors which facedMain Street. The doors opened upon an imposing vestibule, from which ahandsome flight of stone steps, protected by a marble balustrade, ledto the ground. 

Standing at the top of these steps and leaning over the balustrade, hehad a clear view of half the yard. No one was near him; everybody wasrunning in the opposite direction, toward that corner of the yardoccupied by the jail, the crowd centring upon an agitated whirlpool ofmen which moved slowly toward a door in the high wall that enclosed thebuilding; and Joe saw that Happy Fear's guards, conducting the prisonerback to his cell, were being jostled and rushed. The distance they hadmade was short, but as they reached the door the pressure upon themincreased dangerously. Clubs rose in the air, hats flew, the whirlpoolheaved tumultuously, and the steel door clanged. 

Happy Fear was safe inside, but the jostlers were outside--baffled, ugly, and stirred with the passion that changes a crowd into a mob. 

Then some of them caught sight of Joe as he stood alone at the top ofthe steps, and a great shout of rage and exultation arose. 

For a moment or two he did not see his danger. At the clang of thedoor, his eyes, caught by the gleam of a wide white hat, had turnedtoward the street, and he was somewhat fixedly watching Mr. Ladewextricate Ariel (and her aged and indignant escorts) from an overflowof the crowd in which they had been caught. But a voice warned him:the wild piping of a newsboy who had climbed into a tree near by. 

"JOE LOUDEN!" he screamed. "LOOK OUT!"

With a muffled roar the crowd surged back from the jail and turnedtoward the steps. "Tar and feather him!" "Take him over to the riverand throw him in!" "Drown him!" "Hang him!"

Then a thing happened which was dramatic enough in its inception, butalmost ludicrous in its effect. Joe walked quietly down the steps andtoward the advancing mob with his head cocked to one side, one eyebrowlifted, and one corner of his mouth drawn down in a faintly distortedsmile. 

He went straight toward the yelling forerunners, with only a smallbundle of papers in his hands, and then--while the non-partisanspectators held their breath, expecting the shock of contact--straighton through them. 

A number of the bulge-cheeked formed the scattering van of theseforerunners, charging with hoarse and cruel shrieks of triumph. Thefirst, apparently about to tear Joseph Louden to pieces, changedcountenance at arm's-length, swerved violently, and with the loud cry, "HEAD HIM OFF!" dashed on up the stone steps. The man next behind himfollowed his lead, with the same shout, strategy, and haste; then theothers of this advance attack, finding themselves confronting the quietman, who kept his even pace and showed no intention of turning asidefor them, turned suddenly aside for HIM, and, taking the cue from thefirst, pursued their way, bellowing: "HEAD HIM OFF! HEAD HIM OFF!"until there were a dozen and more rowdyish men and youths upon thesteps, their eyes blazing with fury, menacing Louden's back withfrightful gestures across the marble balustrade, as they hystericallybleated the chorus, "HEAD HIM OFF!"

Whether or not Joe could have walked through the entire mob as he hadwalked through these is a matter for speculation; it was believed inCanaan that he could. Already a gust of mirth began to sweep over thesterner spirits as they paused to marvel no less at the disconcertingadvance of the lawyer than at the spectacle presented by the intrepiddare-devils upon the steps; a kind of lane actually opening before theyoung man as he walked steadily on. And when Mr. Sheehan, leading halfa dozen huge men from the Farbach brewery, unceremoniously shouldered away through the mob to Joe's side, reaching him where the press wasthickest, it is a question if the services of his detachment wereneeded. 

The laughter increased. It became voluminous. Homeric salvos shook theair. And never one of the fire-eaters upon the steps lived long enoughto live down the hateful cry of that day, "HEAD HIM OFF!" which was tobecome a catch-word on the streets, a taunt more stinging than anydevised by deliberate invention, an insult bitterer than the ancestraldoubt, a fighting-word, and the great historical joke of Canaan, neveromitted in after-days when the tale was told how Joe Louden took thatshort walk across the Court-house yard which made him Mayor of Canaan. 

XXIV

MARTIN PIKE KEEPS AN ENGAGEMENT

An hour later, Martin Pike, looking forth from the Mansion, saw a manopen the gate, and, passing between the unemotional deer, rapidlyapproach the house. He was a thin young fellow, very well dressed indark gray, his hair prematurely somewhat silvered, his face prematurelysomewhat lined, and his hat covered a scar such as might have beencaused by a blow from a blunt instrument in the nature of a poker. 

He did not reach the door, nor was there necessity for him to ring, for, before he had set foot on the lowest step, the Judge had hastenedto meet him. Not, however, with any fulsomely hospitable intent; hishand and arm were raised to execute one of his Olympian gestures, ofthe kind which had obliterated the young man upon a certain by-gonemorning. 

Louden looked up calmly at the big figure towering above him. 

"It won't do, Judge, " he said; that was all, but there was asignificance in his manner and a certainty in his voice which causedthe uplifted hand to drop limply; while the look of apprehension whichof late had grown more and more to be Martin Pike's habitual expressiondeepened into something close upon mortal anxiety. 

"Have you any business to set foot upon my property?" he demanded. 

"Yes, " answered Joe. "That's why I came. "

"What business have you got with me?"

"Enough to satisfy you, I think. But there's one thing I don't want todo"--Joe glanced at the open door--"and that is to talk about ithere--for your own sake and because I think Miss Tabor should bepresent. I called to ask you to come to her house at eight o'clockto-night. "

"You did!" Martin Pike spoke angrily, but not in the bull-bass of yore;and he kept his voice down, glancing about him nervously as though hefeared that his wife or Mamie might hear. "My accounts with her estateare closed, " he said, harshly. "If she wants anything, let her comehere. "

Joe shook his head. "No. You must be there at eight o'clock. "

The Judge's choler got the better of his uneasiness. "You're a prettyone to come ordering me around!" he broke out. "You slanderer, do yousuppose I haven't heard how you're going about traducing me, undermining my character in this community, spreading scandals that Iam the real owner of Beaver Beach--"

"It can easily be proved, Judge, " Joe interrupted, quietly, "thoughyou're wrong: I haven't been telling people. I haven't needed to--evenif I'd wished. Once a thing like that gets out you can't stopit--ever! That isn't all: to my knowledge you own other property worsethan the Beach; I know that you own half of the worst dens in the town:profitable investments, too. You bought them very gradually andcraftily, only showing the deeds to those in charge--as you did to MikeSheehan, and not recording them. Sheehan's betrayal of you gave me thekey; I know most of the poor creatures who are your tenants, too, yousee, and that gave me an advantage because they have some confidence inme. My investigations have been almost as quiet and careful as yourpurchases. "

"You damned blackmailer!" The Judge bent upon him a fierce, inquiringscrutiny in which, oddly enough, there was a kind of haggardhopefulness. "And out of such stories, " he sneered, "you are going totry to make political capital against the Tocsin, are you?"

"No, " said Joe. "It was necessary in the interests of my client for meto know pretty thoroughly just what property you own, and I think I do. These pieces I've mentioned are about all you have not mortgaged. Youcouldn't do that without exposure, and you've kept a controllinginterest in the Tocsin clear, too--for the sake of its influence, Isuppose. Now, do you want to hear any more, or will you agree to meetme at Miss Tabor's this evening?"

Whatever the look of hopefulness had signified, it fled from Pike'sface during this speech, but he asked with some show of contempt, "Doyou think it likely?"

"Very well, " said Joe, "if you want me to speak here. " And he came alittle closer to him. "You bought a big block of Granger Gas for RogerTabor, " he began, in a low voice. "Before his death you soldeverything he had, except the old house, put it all into cash for him, and bought that stock; you signed the check as his attorney-in-fact, and it came back to you through the Washington National, where NorbertFlitcroft handled it. He has a good memory, and when he told me whathe knew, I had him to do some tracing; did a little myself, also. Judge Pike, I must tell you that you stand in danger of the law. Youwere the custodian of that stock for Roger Tabor; it was transferred inblank; though I think you meant to be 'legal' at that time, and thatwas merely for convenience in case Roger had wished you to sell it forhim. But just after his death you found yourself saddled withdistillery stock, which was going bad on your hands. Otherspeculations of yours were failing at the same time; you had to havemoney--you filed your report as administrator, crediting Miss Taborwith your own stock which you knew was going to the wall, andtransferred hers to yourself. Then you sold it because you neededready money. You used her fortune to save yourself--but you werehorribly afraid! No matter how rotten your transactions had been, youhad always kept inside the law; and now that you had gone outside ofit, you were frightened. You didn't dare come flat out to Miss Taborwith the statement that her fortune had gone; it had been in yourcharge all the time and things might look ugly. So you put it off, perhaps from day to day. You didn't dare tell her until you wereforced to, and to avoid the confession you sent her the income whichwas rightfully hers. That was your great weakness. "

Joe had spoken with great rapidity, though keeping his voice low, andhe lowered it again, as he continued: "Judge Pike, what chance haveyou to be believed in court when you swear that you sent her twentythousand dollars out of the goodness of your heart? Do you think SHEbelieved you? It was the very proof to her that you had robbed her. For she knew you! Do you want to hear more now? Do you think this isa good place for it? Do you wish me to go over the details of eachstep I have taken against you, to land you at the bar where this poorfellow your paper is hounding stands to-day?"

The Judge essayed to answer, and could not. He lifted his handuncertainly and dropped it, while a thick dew gathered on his temples. Inarticulate sounds came from between his teeth. 

"You will come?" said Joe. 

Martin Pike bent his head dazedly; and at that the other turned quicklyfrom him and went away without looking back. 

Ariel was in the studio, half an hour later, when Joe was announced bythe smiling Mr. Warden. Ladew was with her, though upon the point oftaking his leave, and Joe marked (with a sinking heart) that the youngminister's cheeks were flushed and his eyes very bright. 

"It was a magnificent thing you did, Mr. Louden, " he said, offering hishand heartily; "I saw it, and it was even finer in one way than it wasplucky. It somehow straightened things out with such perfect goodnature; it made those people feel that what they were doing wasridiculous. "

"So it was, " said Joe. 

"Few, under the circumstances, could have acted as if they thought so!And I hope you'll let me call upon you, Mr. Louden. "

"I hope you will, " he answered; and then, when the minister haddeparted, stood looking after him with sad eyes, in which there dweltobscure meditations. Ladew's word of farewell had covered a deep lookat Ariel, which was not to be mistaken by Joseph Louden for anythingother than what it was: the clergyman's secret was an open one, and Joesaw that he was as frank and manly in love as in all other things. "He's a good fellow, " he said at last, sighing. "A good man. "

Ariel agreed. "And he said more to me than he did to you. "

"Yes, I think it probable, " Joe smiled sorrowfully. 

"About YOU, I mean. " He had time to fear that her look admittedconfusion before she proceeded: "He said he had never seen anything sofine as your coming down those steps. Ah, he was right! But it washarder for me to watch you, I think, than for you to do it, Joe. I wasso horribly afraid--and the crowd between us--if we could have got nearyou--but we couldn't--we--"

She faltered, and pressed her hand close upon her eyes. 

"We?" asked Joe, slowly. "You mean you and Mr. Ladew?"

"Yes, he was there; but I mean"--her voice ran into a little laugh witha beatific quaver in it--"I mean Colonel Flitcroft and Mr. Bradbury andMr. Buckalew, too--we were hemmed in together when Mr. Ladew foundus--and, oh, Joe, when that cowardly rush started toward you, thosethree--I've heard wonderful things in Paris and Naples, cabmenquarrelling and disappointed beggars--but never anything like themto-day--"

"You mean they were profane?"

"Oh, magnificently--and with such inventiveness! All three begged mypardon afterwards. I didn't grant it--I blessed them!"

"Did they beg Mr. Ladew's pardon?"

"Ah, Joe!" she reproached him. "He isn't a prig. And he's had tofight some things that you of all men ought to understand. He's onlybeen here a few months, but he told me that Judge Pike has been againsthim from the start. It seems that Mr. Ladew is too liberal in hisviews. And he told me that if it were not for Judge Pike's losinginfluence in the church on account of the Beaver Beach story, the Judgewould probably have been able to force him to resign; but now he willstay. "

"He wishes to stay, doesn't he?"

"Very much, I think. And, Joe, " she continued, thoughtfully, "I wantyou to do something for me. I want you to go to church with me nextSunday. "

"To hear Mr. Ladew?"

"Yes. I wouldn't ask except for that. "

"Very well, " he consented, with averted eyes. "I'll go. "

Her face was radiant with the smile she gave him. "It will make mevery happy, " she said. 

He bent his head and fumbled over some papers he had taken from hispocket. "Will you listen to these memoranda? We have a great deal togo over before eight o'clock. "

Judge Pike stood for a long while where Joe had left him, staring outat the street, apparently. Really he saw nothing. Undoubtedly an imageof blurring foliage, cast-iron, cement, and turf, with sunshine smearedover all, flickered upon the retinas of his eyes; but the brain did notaccept the picture from the optic nerve. Martin Pike was busy withother visions. Joe Louden had followed him back to his hidden deedsand had read them aloud to him as Gabriel would read them onJudgment-day. Perhaps THIS was the Judgment-day. 

Pike had taken charge of Roger Tabor's affairs because the commissionsas agent were not too inconsiderable to be neglected. To make the tasksimpler, he had sold, as time went on, the various properties of theestate, gradually converting all of them into cash. Then, theopportunity offering, he bought a stock which paid excellent dividends, had it transferred in blank, because if it should prove to Roger'sadvantage to sell it, his agent could do so without any formal delaysbetween Paris and Canaan. At least, that is what the Judge had toldhimself at the time, though it may be that some lurking whisperer inhis soul had hinted that it might be well to preserve the great amountof cash in hand, and Roger's stock was practically that. Then came theevil days. Laboriously, he had built up a name for conservatism whichmost of the town accepted, but secretly he had always been a gambler:Wall Street was his goal; to adventure there, as one of the greatsingle-eyed Cyclopean man-eaters, his fond ambition; and he hadconceived the distillery trust as a means to attain it; but thestructure tumbled about his ears; other edifices of his crumbled at thesame time; he found himself beset, his solvency endangered, and therewas the Tabor stock, quite as good as gold; Roger had just died, and itwas enough to save him. --Save? That was a strange way to beremembering it to-day, when Fate grinned at him out of a dreadful maskcontorted like the face of Norbert Flitcroft. 

Martin Pike knew himself for a fool. What chance had he, though hedestroyed the check a thousand times over, to escape the records bywhich the coil of modern trade duplicates and quadruplicates each slipof scribbled paper? What chance had he against the memories of men?Would the man of whom he had bought, forget that the check was signedby Roger's agent? Had the bank-clerk forgotten? Thrice fool, MartinPike, to dream that in a town like Canaan, Norbert or any of his kindcould touch an order for so great a sum and forget it! But Martin Pikehad not dreamed that; had dreamed nothing. When failure confronted himhis mind refused to consider anything but his vital need at the time, and he had supplied that need. And now he grew busy with the future:he saw first the civil suit for restitution, pressed with the ferocityand cunning of one who intended to satisfy a grudge of years; then, perhaps, a criminal prosecution. .. . But he would fight it! Did theythink that such a man was to be overthrown by a breath of air? By agirl, a bank-clerk, and a shyster lawyer? They would find their casedifficult to prove in court. He did not believe they COULD prove it. They would be discredited for the attempt upon him and he would winclear; these Beaver Beach scandals would die of inertia presently;there would be a lucky trick in wheat, and Martin Pike would be MartinPike once more; reinstated, dictator of church, politics, business; allthose things which were the breath of his life restored. He would showthis pitiful pack what manner of man they hounded! NorbertFlitcroft. .. . 

The Judge put his big hand up to his eyes and rubbed them. Curiousmechanisms the eyes. .. . That deer in line with the vision--not a zebra?A zebra after all these years? And yet . .. Curious, indeed, the eyes!. .. A zebra. .. . Who ever heard of a deer with stripes? The big handrose from the eyes and ran through the hair which he had always wornrather long. It would seem strange to have it cut very short. .. . Didthey use clippers, perhaps? . .. 

He started suddenly and realized that his next-door neighbor had passedalong the sidewalk with head averted, pretending not to see him. A fewweeks ago the man would not have missed the chance of looking in tobow--with proper deference, too! Did he know? He could not know THIS!It must be the Beaver Beach scandal. It must be. It could not beTHIS--not yet! But it MIGHT be. How many knew? Louden, Norbert, Ariel--who else? And again the deer took on the strange zebra look. 

The Judge walked slowly down to the gate; spoke to the man he hademployed in Sam Warden's place, a Scotchman who had begun to refreshthe lawn with a garden hose; bowed affably in response to thesalutation of the elder Louden, who was passing, bound homeward fromthe factory, and returned to the house with thoughtful steps. In thehall he encountered his wife; stopped to speak with her upon varioushousehold matters; then entered the library, which was his workroom. He locked the door; tried it, and shook the handle. After satisfyinghimself of its security, he pulled down the window-shades carefully, and, lighting a gas drop-lamp upon his desk, began to fumble withvarious documents, which he took from a small safe near by. But hishands were not steady; he dropped the papers, scattering them over thefloor, and had great difficulty in picking them up. He perspiredheavily: whatever he touched became damp, and he continually mopped hisforehead with his sleeve. After a time he gave up the attempt to sortthe packets of papers; sank into a chair despairingly, leaving most ofthem in disorder. A light tap sounded on the door. 

"Martin, it's supper-time. "

With a great effort he made shift to answer: "Yes, I know. You andMamie go ahead. I'm too busy to-night. I don't want anything. "

A moment before, he had been a pitiful figure, face distraught, handsincoherent, the whole body incoordinate, but if eyes might have restedupon him as he answered his wife they would have seen a strange thing;he sat, apparently steady and collected, his expression cool, his bodyquiet, poised exactly to the quality of his reply, for the same strangereason that a young girl smiles archly and coquettes to a telephone. 

"But, Martin, you oughtn't to work so hard. You'll break down--"

"No fear of that, " he replied, cheerfully. "You can leave something onthe sideboard for me. "

After another fluttering remonstrance, she went away, and the room wassilent again. His arms rested upon the desk, and his head slowly sankbetween his elbows. When he lifted it again the clock on themantel-piece had tinkled once. It was half-past seven. He took asheet of note-paper from a box before him and began to write, but whenhe had finished the words, "My dear wife and Mamie, " his fingers shookso violently that he could go no further. He placed his left hand overthe back of his right to steady it, but found the device unavailing:the pen left mere zigzags on the page, and he dropped it. 

He opened a lower drawer of the desk and took out of it a pistol; rose, went to the door, tried it once more, and again was satisfied of hisseclusion. Then he took the weapon in both hands, the handle againsthis fingers, one thumb against the trigger, and, shaking with nausea, lifted it to the level of his eyes. His will betrayed him; he couldnot contract his thumb upon the trigger, and, with a convulsive shiver, he dropped the revolver upon the desk. 

He locked the door of the room behind him, crept down the stairs andout of the front-door. He walked shamblingly, when he reached thestreet, keeping close to the fences as he went on, now and thentouching the pickets with his hands like a feeble old man. 

He had always been prompt; it was one of the things of which he hadbeen proud: in all his life he had never failed to keep a businessengagement precisely upon the appointed time, and the Court-house bellclanged eight when Sam Warden opened the door for his old employerto-night. 

The two young people looked up gravely from the script-laden tablebefore them as Martin Pike came into the strong lamplight out of thedimness of the hall, where only a taper burned. He shambled a few limpsteps into the room and came to a halt. Big as he was, his clotheshung upon him loosely, like coverlets upon a collapsed bed; and heseemed but a distorted image of himself, as if (save for the dull andreddened eyes) he had been made of yellowish wax and had been left toolong in the sun. Abject, hopeless, his attitude a confession of ruinand shame, he stood before his judges in such wretchedness that, incomparison, the figure of Happy Fear, facing the court-room through hisdarkest hour, was one to be envied. 

"Well, " he said, brokenly, "what are you going to do?"

Joe Louden looked at him with great intentness for several moments. Then he rose and came forward. "Sit down, Judge, " he said. "It's allright. Don't worry. "

XXV

THE JURY COMES IN

Mrs. Flitcroft, at breakfast on the following morning, continued adisquisition which had ceased, the previous night, only because of aprovoking human incapacity to exist without sleep. Her theme was onewhich had exclusively occupied her since the passing of Eskew, and, herrheumatism having improved so that she could leave her chair, she hadbecome a sort of walking serial; Norbert and his grandfather being wellassured that, whenever they left the house, the same story was to becontinued upon their reappearance. The Tocsin had been her greatcomfort: she was but one helpless woman against two strong men;therefore she sorely needed assistance in her attack upon them, and theinvaluable newspaper gave it in generous measure. 

"Yes, young man, " she said, as she lifted her first spoonful ofoatmeal, "you BETTER read the Tocsin!"

"I AM reading it, " responded Norbert, who was almost concealed by thepaper. 

"And your grandfather better read it!" she continued, severely. 

"I already have, " said the Colonel, promptly. "Have you?"

"No, but you can be sure I will!" The good lady gave the effect oftossing her head. "And you better take what it says to heart, you andsome others. It's a wonder to me that you and Buckalew and old Peterdon't go and hold that Happy Fear's hand durin' the trial! And as forJoe Louden, his step-mother's own sister, Jane, says to me onlyyesterday afternoon, 'Why, law! Mrs. Flitcroft, ' she says, 'it's awonder to me, ' she says, 'that your husband and those two other oldfools don't lay down in the gutter and let that Joe Louden walk over'em. '"

"Did Jane Quimby say 'those two other old fools'?" inquired theColonel, in a manner which indicated that he might see Mr. Quimby inregard to the slander. 

"I can't say as I remember just precisely her exact words, " admittedMrs. Flitcroft, "but that was the sense of 'em! You've made yourselvesthe laughin'-stock of the whole town!"

"Oh, we have?"

"And I'd like to know"--her voice became shrill and goading--"I'd liketo know what Judge Pike thinks of you and Norbert! I should thinkyou'd be ashamed to have him pass you in the street. "

"I've quit speaking to him, " said Norbert, coldly, "ever since I heardhe owned Beaver Beach. "

"That story ain't proved yet!" returned his grandmother, with muchirascibility. 

"Well, it will be; but that's not all. " Norbert wagged his head. "Youmay be a little surprised within the next few days. "

"I've been surprised for the PAST few!" she replied, with a bitternesswhich overrode her satisfaction in the effectiveness of the retort. "Surprised! I'd like to know who wouldn't be surprised when half thetown acts like it's gone crazy. People PRAISIN' that fellow, thatnobody in their sober minds and senses never in their lives had a goodword for before! Why, there was more talk yesterday about his doin'sat the Court-house--you'd of thought he was Phil Sheridan! It's 'JoeLouden' here and 'Joe Louden' there, and 'Joe Louden' this and 'JoeLouden' that, till I'm sick of the name!"

"Then why don't you quit saying it?" asked the Colonel, reasonably. 

"Because it'd OUGHT to be said!" she exclaimed, with great heat. "Because he'd ought to be held up to the community to be despised. Youlet me have that paper a minute, " she pursued, vehemently; "you justlet me have the Tocsin and I'll read you out some things about him that'll show him in his true light!"

"All right, " said Norbert, suddenly handing her the paper. "Go ahead. "

And after the exchange of a single glance the two gentlemen composedthemselves to listen. 

"Ha!" exclaimed Mrs. Flitcroft. "Here it is in head-lines on the firstpage. 'Defence Scores Again and Again. Ridiculous Behavior of aWould-Be Mob. Louden's--'" She paused, removed her spectacles, examined them dubiously, restored them to place, and continued:"'Louden's Masterly Conduct and Well-Deserved--'" she paused again, incredulous--"'Well-Deserved Triumph--'"

"Go on, " said the Colonel, softly. 

"Indeed I will!" the old lady replied. "Do you think I don't knowsarcasm when I see it? Ha, ha!" She laughed with great heartiness. "I reckon I WILL go on! You listen and try to LEARN something fromit!" She resumed the reading:

"'It is generally admitted that after yesterday's sitting of the court, the prosecution in the Fear-Cory murder trial has not a leg to standon. Louden's fight for his client has been, it must be confessed, of amost splendid and talented order, and the bottom has fallen out of thecase for the State, while a verdict of Not Guilty, it is now conceded, is the general wish of those who have attended and followed the trial. But the most interesting event of the day took place after the session, when some miscreants undertook to mob the attorney for the defence inthe Court-house yard. He met the attack with a coolness and nervewhich have won him a popularity that--'" Mrs. Flitcroft again faltered. 

"Go on, " repeated the Colonel. "There's a great deal more. "

"Look at the editorials, " suggested Norbert. "There's one on the samesubject. "

Mrs. Flitcroft, her theory of the Tocsin's sarcasm somewhat shaken, turned the page. "We Confess a Mistake" was the rubric above theleader, and she uttered a cry of triumph, for she thought the mistakewas what she had just been reading, and that the editorial wouldapologize for the incomprehensible journalistic error upon the firstpage. "'The best of us make mistakes, and it is well to have a changeof heart sometimes. '" (Thus Eugene's successor had written, and soMrs. Flitcroft read. ) "'An open confession is good for the soul. TheTocsin has changed its mind in regard to certain matters, and means tosay so freely and frankly. After yesterday's events in connection withthe murder trial before our public, the evidence being now allpresented, for we understand that neither side has more to offer, it isgenerally conceded that all good citizens are hopeful of a verdict ofacquittal; and the Tocsin is a good citizen. No good citizen wouldwillingly see an innocent man punished, and that our city is not to bedisgraced by such a miscarriage of justice is due to the efforts of theattorney for the defendant, who has gained credit not only by hismasterly management of this case, but by his splendid conduct in theface of danger yesterday afternoon. He has distinguished himself sogreatly that we frankly assert that our citizens may point with prideto--'" Mrs. Flitcroft's voice, at the beginning pitched to a highexultation, had gradually lowered in key and dropped down the scaletill it disappeared altogether. 

"It's a wonder to me, " the Colonel began, "that the Tocsin doesn't goand hold Joe Louden's hand. "

"I'll read the rest of it for you, " said Norbert, his heavy facelighting up with cruelty. "Let's see--where were you? Oh yes--'pointwith pride'? 'Our citizens may point with pride to . .. '"

Let us not linger to observe the unmanly behavior of an aged man andhis grandson left alone at the breakfast-table by a defenceless woman. 

The Tocsin's right-about-face undermined others besides Mrs. Flitcroftthat morning, and rejoiced greater (though not better) men than theColonel. Mr. Farbach and his lieutenants smiled, yet stared, amazed, wondering what had happened. That was a thing which only three peopleeven certainly knew; yet it was very simple. 

The Tocsin was part of the Judge's restitution. 

"The controlling interest in the paper, together with the otherproperty I have listed, " Joe had said, studying his memoranda under thelamp in Roger's old studio, while Martin Pike listened with his head inhis hands, "make up what Miss Tabor is willing to accept. As Iestimate it, their total value is between a third and a half of that ofthe stock which belonged to her. "

"But this boy--this Flitcroft, " said Pike, feebly; "he might--"

"He will do nothing, " interrupted Joe. "The case is 'settled out ofcourt, ' and even if he were disposed to harass you, he could hardlyhope to succeed, since Miss Tabor declines either to sue or toprosecute. "

The Judge winced at the last word. "Yes--yes, I know; but he might--hemight--tell. "

"I think Miss Tabor's influence will prevent. If it should not--well, you're not in a desperate case by any means; you're involved, but farfrom stripped; in time you may be as sound as ever. And if Norberttells, there's nothing for you to do but to live it down. " A faintsmile played upon Joe's lips as he lifted his head and looked at theother. "It can be done, I think. "

It was then that Ariel, complaining of the warmth of the evening, thought it possible that Joe might find her fan upon the porch, and ashe departed, whispered hurriedly: "Judge Pike, I'm not technically incontrol of the Tocsin, but haven't I the right to control its policy?"

"I understand, " he muttered. "You mean about Louden--about thistrial--"

"That is why I have taken the paper. "

"You want all that changed, you mean?"

She nodded decisively. "From this instant. Before morning. "

"Oh, well, I'll go down there and give the word. " He rubbed his eyeswearily with big thumbs. "I'm through fighting. I'm done. Besides, what's the use? There's nothing more to fight. "

"Now, Judge, " Joe said, as he came in briskly, "we'll go over the listof that unencumbered property, if you will. "

This unencumbered property consisted of Beaver Beach and those otherbelongings of the Judge which he had not dared to mortgage. Joe hadsomehow explained their nature to Ariel, and these with the Tocsin shehad elected to accept in restitution. 

"You told me once that I ought to look after my own property, and now Iwill. Don't you see?" she cried to Joe, eagerly. "It's my work!" Sheresolutely set aside every other proposition; and this was the qualityof mercy which Martin Pike found that night. 

There was a great crowd to hear Joe's summing-up at the trial, andthose who succeeded in getting into the court-room declared that it wasworth the struggle. He did not orate, he did not "thunder at thejury, " nor did he slyly flatter them; he did not overdo theconfidential, nor seem so secure of understanding beforehand what theirverdict would be that they felt an instinctive desire to fool him. Hetalked colloquially but clearly, without appeal to the pathetic andwithout garnitures, not mentioning sunsets, birds, oceans, homes, theglorious old State, or the happiness of liberty; but he made everybodyin the room quite sure that Happy Fear had fired the shot which killedCory to save his own life. And that, as Mr. Bradbury remarked to theColonel, was "what Joe was THERE for!"

Ariel's escort was increased to four that day: Mr. Ladew sat besideher, and there were times when Joe kept his mind entirely to the workin hand only by an effort, but he always succeeded. The sight of thepale and worshipping face of Happy Fear from the corner of his eye wasenough to insure that. And people who could not get near the doors, asking those who could, "What's he doin' now?" were answered byvariations of the one formula, "Oh, jest walkin' away with it!"

Once the court-room was disturbed and set in an uproar which even theJudge's customary threat failed to subdue. Joe had been talking veryrapidly, and having turned the point he was making with perfectdexterity, the jury listening eagerly, stopped for a moment to take aswallow of water. A voice rose over the low hum of the crowd in adelirious chuckle: "Why don't somebody 'HEAD HIM OFF!'" The roominstantly rocked with laughter, under cover of which the identity ofthe sacrilegious chuckler was not discovered, but the voice was thevoice of Buckalew, who was incredibly surprised to find that he hadspoken aloud. 

The jury were "out, " after the case had been given to them, seventeenminutes and thirty seconds by the watch Claudine held in her hand. Thelittle man, whose fate was now on the knees of the gods, lookedpathetically at the foreman and then at the face of his lawyer andbegan to shake violently, but not with fright. He had gone to the jailon Joe's word, as a good dog goes where his master bids, trustfully;and yet Happy had not been able to keep his mind from considering thehorrible chances. "Don't worry, " Joe had said. "It's all right. I'llsee you through. " And he had kept his word. 

The little man was cleared. 

It took Happy a long time to get through what he had to say to hisattorney in the anteroom, and even then, of course, he did not manageto put it in words, for he had "broken down" with sheer gratitude. "Why, damn ME, Joe, " he sobbed, "if ever I--if ever you--well, by God!if you ever--" This was the substance of his lingual accomplishmentunder the circumstances. But Claudine threw her arms around poor Joe'sneck and kissed him. 

Many people were waiting to shake hands with Joe and congratulate him. The trio, taking advantage of seats near the rail, had already donethat (somewhat uproariously) before he had followed Happy, and so hadAriel and Ladew, both, necessarily, rather hurriedly. But in thecorridors he found, when he came out of the anteroom, clients, acquaintances, friends: old friends, new friends, and friends he hadnever seen before--everybody beaming upon him and wringing his hand, asif they had been sure of it all from the start. 

"KNOW him?" said one to another. "Why, I've knowed him sence he wasthat high! SMART little feller he was, too!" This was a totalstranger. 

"I said, years ago"--thus Mr. Brown, the "National House" clerk, proving his prophetic vision--"that he'd turn out to be a big man someday. "

They gathered round him if he stopped for an instant, and crowded afterhim admiringly when he went on again, making his progress slow. Whenhe finally came out of the big doors into the sunshine, there were asmany people in the yard as there had been when he stood in the sameplace and watched the mob rushing his client's guards. But to-day theirtemper was different, and as he paused a moment, looking down on theupturned, laughing faces, with a hundred jocular and congratulatorysalutations shouted up at him, somebody started a cheer, and it wastaken up with thunderous good-will. 

There followed the interrogation customary in such emergencies, and theanxious inquirer was informed by four or five hundred peoplesimultaneously that Joe Louden was all right. 

"HEAD HIM OFF!" bellowed Mike Sheehan, suddenly darting up the steps. The shout increased, and with good reason, for he stepped quickly backwithin the doors; and, retreating through the building, made good hisescape by a basement door. 

He struck off into a long detour, but though he managed to evade thecrowd, he had to stop and shake hands with every third person he met. As he came out upon Main Street again, he encountered his father. 

"Howdy do, Joe?" said this laconic person, and offered his hand. Theyshook, briefly. "Well, " he continued, rubbing his beard, "how are ye?"

"All right, father, I think. "

"Satisfied with the verdict?"

"I'd be pretty hard to please if I weren't, " Joe laughed. 

Mr. Louden rubbed his beard again. "I was there, " he said, withoutemotion. 

"At the trial, you mean?"

"Yes. " He offered his hand once more, and again they shook. "Well, come around and see us, " he said. 

"Thank you. I will. "

"Well, " said Mr. Louden, "good-day, Joe. "

"Good-day, father. "

The young man stood looking after him with a curious smile. Then hegave a slight start. Far up the street he saw two figures, one alady's, in white, with a wide white hat; the other a man's, wearingrecognizably clerical black. They seemed to be walking very slowly. 

It had been a day of triumph for Joe; but in all his life he neverslept worse than he did that night. 

XXVI

ANCIENT OF DAYS

He woke to the chiming of bells, and, as his eyes slowly opened, thesorrowful people of a dream, who seemed to be bending over him, weeping, swam back into the darkness of the night whence they had come, and returned to the imperceptible, leaving their shadows in his heart. Slowly he rose, stumbled into the outer room, and released thefluttering shade; but the sunshine, springing like a golden loverthrough the open window, only dazzled him, and found no answeringgladness to greet it, nor joy in the royal day it heralded. 

And yet, to the newly cleaned boys on their way to midsummer morningSunday-school, the breath of that cool August day was as sweet asstolen apples. No doubt the stir of far, green thickets and thetwinkle of silver-slippered creeks shimmered in the longing vision oftheir minds' eyes; even so, they were merry. But Joseph Louden, sighing as he descended his narrow stairs, with the bitterness stillupon his lips of the frightful coffee he had made, heard the echo oftheir laughter with wonder. 

It would be an hour at least before time to start to church, when Arielexpected him; he stared absently up the street, then down, and, afterthat, began slowly to walk in the latter direction, with no very activeconsciousness, or care, of where he went. He had fallen into aprofound reverie, so deep that when he had crossed the bridge andturned into a dusty road which ran along the river-bank, he stoppedmechanically beside the trunk of a fallen sycamore, and, lifting hishead, for the first time since he had set out, looked about him with amelancholy perplexity, a little surprised to find himself there. 

For this was the spot where he had first seen the new Ariel, and onthat fallen sycamore they had sat together. "REMEMBER, ACROSS MAINSTREET BRIDGE AT NOON!" And Joe's cheeks burned, as he recalled why hehad not understood the clear voice that had haunted him. But thatshame had fallen from him; she had changed all that, as she had changedso many things. He sank down in the long grass, with his back againstthe log, and stared out over the fields of tall corn, shaking in asteady wind all the way to the horizon. 

"Changed so many things?" he said, half aloud. "Everything!" Ah, yes, she had changed the whole world for Joseph Louden--at his first sightof her! And now it seemed to him that he was to lose her, but not inthe way he had thought. 

Almost from the very first, he had the feeling that nothing sobeautiful as that she should stay in Canaan could happen to him. Hewas sure that she was but for the little while, that her coming waslike the flying petals of which he had told her. 

He had lain upon the earth; and she had lifted him up. For a moment hehad felt the beatific wings enfolding him with gentle protection, andthen saw them lifted to bear the angel beyond his sight. For it wasincredible that the gods so loved Joe Louden that they would makegreater gifts to him than this little time with her which they hadgranted him. 

"Changed so many things?"

The bars that had been between him and half of his world were down, shattered, never more to be replaced; and the ban of Canaan was lifted. Could this have been, save for her? And upon that thought he got tohis feet, uttering an exclamation of bitter self-reproach, askinghimself angrily what he was doing. He knew how much she gave him, whatfull measure of her affection! Was not that enough?--Out upon you, Louden! Are you to sulk in your tent, dour in the gloom, or to play aman's part, and if she be happy, turn a cheery face upon her joy?

And thus this pilgrim recrossed the bridge, emerging to the street withhis head up, smiling, and his shoulders thrown back so that none mightsee the burden he carried. 

Ariel was waiting on the porch for him. She wore the same dress shehad worn that Sunday of their tryst; that exquisite dress, with thefaint lavender overtint, like the tender colors of the beautiful day hemade his own. She had not worn it since, and he was far distant whenhe caught the first flickering glimpse of her through the lowerbranches of the maples, but he remembered. .. . And again, as on thatday, he heard a far-away, ineffable music, the Elf-land horns, soundingthe mysterious reveille which had wakened his soul to her coming. 

She came to the gate to meet him, and gave him her hand in greeting, without a word--or the need of one--from either. Then together theyset forth over the sun-flecked pavement, the maples swishing abovethem, heavier branches crooning in the strong breeze, under a sky likea Della Robbia background. And up against the glorious blue of it, some laughing, invisible god was blowing small, rounded clouds of purecotton, as children blow thistledown. 

When he opened her parasol, as they came out into the broad sunshinebeyond Upper Main Street, there was the faintest mingling of wild rosesand cinnamon loosed on the air. 

"Joe, " she said, "I'm very happy!"

"That's right, " he returned, heartily. "I think you always will be. "

"But, oh! I wish, " she went on, "that Mr. Arp could have lived to seeyou come down the Court-house steps. "

"God bless him!" said Joe. "I can hear the 'argument'!"

"Those dear old men have been so loyal to you, Joe. "

"No, " he returned; "loyal to Eskew. "

"To you both, " she said. "I'm afraid the old circle is broken up; theyhaven't met on the National House corner since he died. The Coloneltold me he couldn't bear to go there again. "

"I don't believe any of them ever will, " he returned. "And yet I neverpass the place that I don't see Eskew in his old chair. I went therelast night to commune with him. I couldn't sleep, and I got up, andwent over there; they'd left the chairs out; the town was asleep, andit was beautiful moonlight--"

"To commune with him? What about?"

"You. "

"Why?" she asked, plainly mystified. 

"I stood in need of good counsel, " he answered, cheerfully, "or afriendly word, perhaps, and--as I sat there--after a while it came. "

"What was it?"

"To forget that I was sodden with selfishness; to pretend not to be asfull of meanness as I really was! Doesn't that seem to be Eskew's ownvoice?"

"Weren't you happy last night, Joe?"

"Oh, it was all right, " he said, quickly. "Don't you worry. "

And at this old speech of his she broke into a little laugh of which hehad no comprehension. 

"Mamie came to see me early this morning, " she said, after they hadwalked on in silence for a time. "Everything is all right with heragain; that is, I think it will be. Eugene is coming home. And, " sheadded, thoughtfully, "it will be best for him to have his old place onthe Tocsin again. She showed me his letter, and I liked it. I thinkhe's been through the fire--"

Joe's distorted smile appeared. "And has come out gold?" he asked. 

"No, " she laughed; "but nearer it! And I think he'll try to be moreworth her caring for. She has always thought that his leaving theTocsin in the way he did was heroic. That was her word for it. And itWAS the finest thing he ever did. "

"I can't figure Eugene out. " Joe shook his head. "There's somethingbehind his going away that I don't understand. " This was altogetherthe truth; nor was there ever to come a time when either he or Mamiewould understand what things had determined the departure of EugeneBantry; though Mamie never questioned, as Joe did, the reasons for it, or doubted those Eugene had given her, which were the same he had givenher father. For she was content with his return. 

Again the bells across the Square rang out their chime. The paths weredecorously enlivened with family and neighborhood groups, boundchurchward; and the rumble of the organ, playing the people into theirpews, shook on the air. And Joe knew that he must speak quickly, if hewas to say what he had planned to say, before he and Ariel went intothe church. 

"Ariel?" He tried to compel his voice to a casual cheerfulness, but itwould do nothing for him, except betray a desperate embarrassment. 

She looked at him quickly, and as quickly away. 

"Yes?"

"I wanted to say something to you, and I'd better do it now, Ithink--before I go to church for the first time in two years!" Hemanaged to laugh, though with some ruefulness, and continuedstammeringly: "I want to tell you how much I like him--how much Iadmire him--"

"Admire whom?" she asked, a little coldly, for she knew. 

"Mr. Ladew. "

"So do I, " she answered, looking straight ahead. "That is one reasonwhy I wanted you to come with me to-day. "

"It isn't only that. I want to tell you--to tell you--" He broke offfor a second. "You remember that night in my office before Fear camein?"

"Yes; I remember. "

"And that I--that something I said troubled you because it--it soundedas if I cared too much for you--"

"No; not too much. " She still looked straight ahead. They werewalking very slowly. "You didn't understand. You'd been in my mind, you see, all those years, so much more than I in yours. I hadn'tforgotten YOU. But to you I was really a stranger--"

"No, no!" he cried. 

"Yes, I was, " she said, gently but very quickly. "And I--I didn't wantyou to fall in love with me at first sight. And yet--perhaps I did!But I hadn't thought of things in that way. I had just the samefeeling for you that I always had--always! I had never cared so muchfor any one else, and it seemed to me the most necessary thing in mylife to come back to that old companionship-- Don't you remember--itused to trouble you so when I would take your hand? I think I lovedyour being a little rough with me. And once, when I saw how you hadbeen hurt, that day you ran away--"

"Ariel!" he gasped, helplessly. 

"Have you forgotten?"

He gathered himself together with all his will. "I want to prove toyou, " he said, resolutely, "that the dear kindness of you isn't thrownaway on me; I want you to know what I began to say: that it's all rightwith me; and I think Ladew--" He stopped again. "Ah! I've seen howmuch he cares for you--"

"Have you?"

"Ariel, " he said, "that isn't fair to me, if you trust me. You couldnot have helped seeing--"

"But I have not seen it, " she interrupted, with great calmness. Afterhaving said this, she finished truthfully: "If he did, I would neverlet him tell me. I like him too much. "

"You mean you're not going to--"

Suddenly she turned to him. "NO!" she said, with a depth of anger hehad not heard in her voice since that long-ago winter day when shestruck Eugene Bantry with her clenched fist. She swept over him ablinding look of reproach. "How could I?"

And there, upon the steps of the church, in the sudden, dazzling visionof her love, fell the burden of him who had made his sorrowfulpilgrimage across Main Street bridge that morning. 

A manifold rustling followed them as they went down the aisle, and thesibilance of many whisperings; but Joe was not conscious of that, as hetook his place in Ariel's pew beside her. For him there was only thepresence of divinity; the church was filled with it. 

They rose to sing:

 "Ancient of days, Who sittest, throned in glory, To Thee all knees are bent, all voices pray; Thy love has blest the wide world's wondrous story With light and life since Eden's dawning day. "

And then, as they knelt to pray, there were the white heads of thethree old friends of Eskew Arp; and beyond was the silver hair ofMartin Pike, who knelt beside his daughter. Joe felt that peopleshould be very kind to the Judge. 

The sun, so eager without, came temperately through the windows, wherestood angels and saints in gentle colors, and the face of the youngminister in this quiet light was like the faces in the windows. .. . 

"Not only to confront your enemies, " he said; "that is not enough; noris it that I would have you bluster at them, nor take arms againstthem; you will not have to do that if, when they come at you, you donot turn one inch aside, but with an assured heart, with good nature, not noisily, and with steadfastness, you keep on your way. If you cando that, I say that they will turn aside for you, and you shall walkstraight through them, and only laughter be left of their anger!"

There was a stir among the people, and many faces turned toward Joe. Two years ago he had sat in the same church, when his character andactions had furnished the underlying theme of a sermon, and he hadrecognized himself without difficulty: to-day he had not the shadow ofa dream that the same thing was happening. He thought the people wereturning to look at Ariel, and he was very far from wondering at that. 

She saw that he did not understand; she was glad to have it so. Shehad taken off her gloves, and he was holding them lightly andreverently in his hands, looking down upon them, his thin cheeks alittle flushed. And at that, and not knowing the glory that was in hissoul, something forlorn in his careful tenderness toward her gloves sotouched her that she felt the tears coming to her eyes with a suddenrush. And to prevent them. 

"Not the empty gloves, Joe, " she whispered.