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it is traveled," Francisco said hopefully ; what we see?" asked Francisco, chuckling "and when it is the road to Camagüey - again. “Yet the señor speaks truly; he
Caxton was not listening. He had idly is much else. Very rich, very powerful turned at the sound of footsteps, and in- in the country; very wicked, some will tell stantly, at his first languid glance, all his the señor; yet alway's muy simpatico to attention had been riveted to the far end young and beautiful ladies. Is it not alof the patio. Two young men were draw- way's possible for such to be wives?” he ing up chairs to a table for their compan- leaned forward, with a little backward ions, two elderly men. There was some
Aing of his hand toward the group at the thing almost ceremonial in their perform- end of the patio as he added: "Doubtless ance of the act, as there was in the studied the senor noted the formality, the satisformality of the older men as they took faction, eh? Behold the beginning of their places at the table and waited for love's new dream! Has not Don Miguel the young men to be seated. Don Miguel beautiful daughters? Does one need to be Alvarez y Morny was one of the two told everything? Always two and two older men.
Caxton's immediate thought make four.” was that for the first time in his imper- "Oh, it can't be! That tottering old sonal acquaintance with him he saw him wreck!" said Caxton, hotly. He glanced smile. The young men also were smiling, toward the other table; its occupants were and the eyes of all three were deferen- ceremoniously and gravely drinking a tially turned toward the fourth member health. of the little group. His was an unpleasant "The señor thinks not?” said Francisco. face, Caxton thought, Spanish without “Doubtless, then, he is right. Who am I doubt, grim and deeply lined, yet flaccid, to dispute the señor's judgment?" too. The half-closed eyes had both a som- Yet Caxton had a foreboding that the nolent and a shifty look, as though back man was right, and all his old romantic of an inert body the spirit remained keenly interest in the girl with the eyes Alamed alive. Fully sixty, from every facial as- up anew. He inwardly stormed at himpect, his stiff, black hair might have been self for his folly, but the sickening depresthat of a man of twenty. Its youthful- sion of his heart remained. He saw again ness, crowning features that age had sadly her wonderful eyes, their truth, their poravaged, increased his measure of repel- tentiality for devotion, and then his vivid lence.
imagination, rejecting every commonplace Francisco, noting his patron's inatten- aspect of the case, saw them wide with tion, glanced toward the new-comers. unspoken grief.
“Ah!" he softly murmured as he turned Don Miguel and his companions were back to arrange the table with his deftly still at their table when, leaving his repast intimate touch; then briskly he added, almost untouched, Caxton left the patio “The usual wine for the señor?"
and directed his steps toward the scene of "Yes," Caxton replied. Then in a "
his adventure. He stopped in the same casual tone he asked, "Who are those men shaded angle of the wall, and looked up, with Don Miguel?"
and the eyes of the girl met his. That "The young men, his sons,” Francisco they were changed he saw at once. He replied; "the other is Don Pedro Matos. could see no more of her face than before, Has the señor heard of Don Pedro?" but now the warm ivory tint below her
"No," answered Caxton. “Who is he?" eyes was purple dark with weariness, and Francisco chuckled.
her eyes themselves had the stricken, be“A widower, Señor," he said ; "indeed, seeching look of a dog that suffers a mortal thrice a widower."
hurt. For a long moment they gazed at "But something else, too," Caxton said, each other; then the girl stirred slightly. with a smile.
"The señor should not have come," she "Caramba! is not that enough, seeing said. “He must go at once."
"Something has happened," he said. the señor must go away; he must come no "What is it?"
more.” "I am a week older," she replied, "and “Has it got to end like this?” he cried. a week may be like a thousand years." "You can't go on, Señorita. There must
"Your eyes are heavy and sad to-day," be some way out. Would it help to know he told her—"so different! Tell me why.” that I love you? I have not even seen your
"Perhaps it is from staring at the dark," face; but it 's you I love-your beautiful she answered. “Has the señor spirit. I ask nothing but the joy of helpwatched the night pass—the slow, still ing you. Is there no way?” night? It might be that. The watched “No, there is no way,” she said gently. night goes slow-oh, so slow! It is a “I have not let you see my face that you great weariness, and it hurts. Yet it does may forget me the sooner. Not at first, not hurt like the dawn. Señor, the dawn though. It was from mischief at first, is terrible. I know, who have watched it because of what you
said — that you
could come. Even the first faint gray is terrible; see all in my eyes. That was very strange it means that one must live another day. and amusing, and hardly to be believed. And the wind blowing in the trees is ter- So I was perhaps a little bold, to tempt rible. I used to love the sound, I remem- the señor to ask to see my face; but he did ber. And, Señor, let me tell you. Juan, not. I felt then that the señor was speakthe water-carrier, is the first one of all the ing the truth. That is how I shall always city to begin his day's work. It was not think of him-as one who could be trusted. yet light when I heard him moving about They are few. But now you must go.” in his patio, which lies beyond the wall "I have not been here since that first there. And, Señor, I heard him beating day," he said, "at least until now. I his donkey, and I was wickedly glad. thought you did not wish it. But—" Something else was suffering in the wide “It was good of the señor not to come world where men and women were quietly before, but good of him to come to-day,” sleeping. It made me feel less alone. she said gently, interrupting him; "for Señor, you said the day you saw me that now it is good-by.” I was good. Do you remember? Well, “Is this, then, to be the end ?” he said. that is my goodness!” Her low laugh was "Oh, it is hard !" more heartbreaking than tears.
"It is the end," she answered. "But "Señorita, what has happened?" he listen, Señor. Will it help a little to know pleaded. "Tell me! Is it really true, .
that when I went to the church this mornthen, that you are going—"
ing I did not look at the picture of St. “ "Señor, stop! There are things that Michael? I could not. Always I kept one cannot hear.
Is it not enough to my eyes turned toward the floor, never up. think them? And nothing can make And I shall never look at it again. There them different. Listen. I went to the are things that one must forget. Andchurch this morning. It was very early. and a Dios, dear Señor!” Then slowly I thought to ask the Holy Mother for she moved backward, and he saw her melt help; but when I knelt there, I could not away, as it were, in the darkness of the pray.
Would the Holy Mother come down from heaven and lead me back with He knew it was the end. Unhappy as her? I knew she would not; I was not he was, there was a certain relief in the so young and foolish as to believe that,
mere acceptance of that fact. All the and nothing less would suffice."
doubt, the uncertainty, was over, and his “I have watched at the church for you mind at once began to adjust itself to the many hours," he told her; "but you never inevitable. He wondered at his own calm came.”
as he went leisurely about his preparations "It was this morning that I went,” she for departure in the morning. That night replied. “It was very early. And now he sat late in the café in the patio, finding
a certain comfort in a mere physical com- her fingers as they clasped a fold of her panionship that made no social demands rebozo struck him at once as signs of exupon him, and when at last he went to his treme emotion. As she slowly mounted room he fell asleep quickly. But long the steps of the porch, she turned her eyes before day he awoke, and could not again up to his face. Instantly he sprang to her call up sleep. A return of his old restless- side. ness drove him to rise long before the hour "You, Señorita! You!" he exclaimed. at which he was to take his train. He "No inglés," she said in a hoarse little went down to the patio, deserted and still voice. in disorder after the revelry of the night, He shook his head impatiently. and leaving orders that his luggage be sent "Is it a time for that now?" he cried. at once to the train, he passed through the “I know you, Señorita. I would know stone archway to the street and wandered you at the end of the world. Speak to forth into the city, scarcely aware of any
me!” leading as to his direction. But when "No inglés," she repeated, and moved to presently he came in sight of the twin pass him; but he caught her hand. towers of the church of the St. Michael “Señorita,” he pleaded, “I am going rising dark against the brightening eastern away in half an hour.
Would you let me sky, he knew that he had continued to go without one word ?" cherish a hope that he had not acknow- At that she cast all pretense aside. ledged even to himself.
“Oh, the señor said he would know me, Inside the church, which after a mo- and he did!” she exclaimed, with wondermentary hesitation he had entered, a single ing awe in her voice. “It is very wondercandle was burning in the chancel. In the ful. But now that he has seen my face, faint suffusion of light from the coming perhaps - perhaps —" she hesitated, looked
dawn it made more intense the shadow less down, and sighed deeply. gloom of the interior, and for a long time "It matches your eyes — the most wonhe stood at the door peering keenly about derful eyes in the world,” he declared. before a kneeling figure at the far eastern "Did I not say they would ?" end of the church gradually took shape as “I came to the church alone, the first merely a darker blotch on the dark stone- time in my life," she said hurriedly. "And work of the wall.
like this!” She glanced down at her attire With his heart in his throat, he walked with a look half-shocked, half-mischievous. quickly toward it; but as he drew near, it “Oh, my father is going to be angry if he rose and passed out. It was only a man in hears! Perhaps he will send me to a conthe dress of a muleteer, and with a quick
I shall know all soon. Already I falling away of all his hope, Caxton, too, am frightened." went out to the porch. The figure of a "You will never know," he cried, "for woman was coming slowly across the plaza now that I have seen you, I will never - a woman in the dress of the common give you up. You are going with me, people. Over her head and shoulders fell Señorita." a striped rebozo, which she held close over “But, Señor, I came to the church-—" her mouth with the native's precaution He swept aside all speech. against breathing the night air; but as she “There are other churches,” he said ; drew near to the place where Caxton "we will go to them together. Listen, stood idly watching her approach, she let Señorita. You shall not marry that old the rebozo fall to her shoulders. He saw man; you
shall marry me. From the first a fair, delicate face, a slender, rounded
meant for each other- the neck, a small, well-shaped head carried strange way we met-everything." proudly. Her eyes were downcast, and "I myself had thought that; and now I something in the rigidity of her carriage, know it is as the señor wishes,” she said, her set lips, and the nervous tension of and shyly took his hand.
He had not expected so ready a yield the tail of his eye Caxton saw her form ing, and for an instant was at a loss as all shrink back in the apprehension he also the difficulties suddenly rose to confront felt. But no one came to disturb them, him. Then he laughed, facing them down. and presently, with a járring clank of the
"Then come, dear Señorita," he said, couplings, the frail little car began its "for we have n't a minute to lose."
leisurely journey out into their new world. They hurried across the plaza, taking Their eyes met. the road to the station. Here and there an “Señor,” she whispered, "you will be early riser had begun to appear, and Cax- good to me? Say that you will be good ton knew that they were noticeable. She, to me?" too, seemed suddenly aware of this, and "Always, dear," he promised. nervously drew her rebozo more closely "Then nothing else matters,” she said about her face as she said in a low voice: "nothing." “Señor, I am frightened.”
“Dear Señorita,” he said after a long "It will soon be over,” he told her. silence, “do you know, I have never even "Once on the train, we shall surely be learned your name—your given name.” safe. I shall take you to dear friends of “Nor I the señor's,” she replied. “We mine in Havana, and they will take you have much to learn." to the States, where we can marry at once;
“But it was right,” he said ; "there was or even in Havana, perhaps, though of no other way.” that I am not sure. The laws"
She looked up and smiled. “The señor will know best,” she said. "Last night," she said, "again I could
They entered the train almost unno- not sleep for unhappiness. It is better to ticed. Francisco, the waiter, was there die than to marry where you hate; but, with Caxton's luggage.
Señor, I am very young and afraid to die. "Francisco," said Caxton, anxiously, "if What was there, then, to do? And at any one
last I knew. Do you remember how I “Señor," the man interrupted, “I have said I could not pray in the church because seen nothing. The señor has been good I knew that the Holy Mother would not to me. Perhaps I may be able to help. come down and lead me away with her, A Dios, Señor.”
and nothing less would help me?" They entered the train, and seated “I remember,” he answered. themselves far from the door, on the side “It was wrong not to pray, and wicked away from the station. They did not to doubt the Holy Mother. She has her speak. With her rebozo hiding her face, own way. I thought that this morning, she gazed steadily out of the window; he and so came again to the church, but studied a map, holding it high to shield alone. And all the way I prayed for a her from any curious eyes. So they waited sign. And, Señor, you were waiting there, in strained anxiety for the train to take its and when you said I should go with you, departure.
I was glad, having my answer. The Holy It was slow about it. The sun came up Mother might not come herself, -she has hot in a cloudless sky. A volante drove her own way, as I said, -but was it not furiously up to the platform, and out of as if she had sent St. Michael ?”
By ARTHUR GLEASON
ERE at home I am in a land where fight that the Allies are making on all those
the wholesale martyrdom of Bel- trench-threaded fields of the Old World. gium is regarded as of doubtful authen- Europe has made an old discovery. The ticity. We who have witnessed wide- Greek Anthology has it, and the ballads, spread atrocities are subjected to a critical but our busy little merchants and our process as cold as if we were advancing a clever talkers have never known it. The new program of social reform. I begin to best discovery a man can make is that wonder if anything took place in Flanders. there is something inside him bigger than Is n't the wreck of Termonde, where I his fear, a belief in something more lasting thought I spent three days, perhaps a fig- than his individual life. When he discovment of the fancy? Was the bayoneted ers that, he knows he, too, is a man. It is girl child of Alost a pleasant dream crea- as real for him as the experience of mothtion? My people are critical and indiffer- erhood is for a woman. He comes out of ent, generous and neutral, but yonder it with self-respect and gladness.
, several races are living at a deeper level. The Belgians were a soft people, pleasIn a time when beliefs are held lightly, ure-loving little chaps, social and cheery, with tricky words tearing at old values, fond of comfort and the café brightness. they have recovered the ancient faiths of They had no pride of race, because they the race. Their lot, with all its pain, is lacked the intensity of blood of unmixed choicer than ours. They at least have felt single strains. They were cosmopolitan, greatly and thrown themselves into action. often with a command over three lanIt is stern fight that is on in Europe, and guages and snatches of several dialects. few of our countrymen realize it is our They were easy in their likes.