Part 18 (1/2)

The setting sun was throwing a halo of gold all round her hair, her white hands were clasped idly on her lap

She gazed out beyond the river, beyond the sunset, toward an unseen bourne of peace and happiness, and her lovely face had in it a look of utter hopelessness and of subliation The air was still

It was late autumn, and all around her the russet leaves of beech and chestnut fell with a melancholy hush-sh-sh about her feet

She was alone, and froathered in her eyes and rolled slowly down her cheeks

Suddenly a sigh escaped the esture, wholly unusual to hiht across his eyes

”Mayhap you are right, Armand,” he said quietly; ”mayhap I do not knohat it is to love”

Ar h by now to realise the finality of his pronouncements His heart felt sore, but he was too proud to show his hurt again to a hts of disobedience he had put resolutely aside; he had never meant to break his oath All that he had hoped to do was to persuade Percy to release hi Paris he risked to lose Jeanne he was quite convinced, but it is nevertheless a true fact that in spite of this he did not withdraw his love and trust fronetism which enchained all his coh his enthusiasiance to its leader was no longer tottering

But he would not trust hiain on the subject

”I will find the others downstairs,” was all he said, ”and will arrange with Hastings for to-ht, my dear fellow By the way, you have not told e,” said St Just half reluctantly He had not e his secret quite so fully as yet

”The young actress at the Theatre National?”

”Yes Do you know her?”

”Only by nael Think of ht, Percy”

”Good night”

The two rasped one another by the hand Armand's eyes proffered a last desperate appeal But Blakeney's eyes were ih finally took his leave

For a long while after he had gone Blakeney stood silent and ered in his ear:

”Think of Marguerite!”

The walls had fallen away from around him--the , the river below, the Teed in the chaos of his thoughts

Noas no longer in Paris; he heard nothing of the horrors that even at this hour of the night were raging around him; he did not hear the call offor help; he did not see the descendant of St Louis, with a red cap on his baby head, sta insults on the ness

He was in the garden at Rich on the stone seat, with branches of the ra theround at her feet, his head pillowed in her lap, lazily drearaceful curves beneath overhanging s and tall stately el uerite, with idle, delicate hands, threw sohed, for she was quite happy, and anon she stooped, and he felt the fragrance of her lips as she bent over him and savoured the perfect sweetness of her caress She was happy because her husband was by her side He had done with adventures, with risking his life for others'

sake He was living only for her

The man, the dreamer, the idealist that lurked behind the adventurous soul, lived an exquisite dreaazed upon that vision He closed his eyes so that it h the openopposite he should not see the great gloo with innocentpatiently and with a smile on their lips for a cruel and unh the vista of houses and of streets that griht in one of the tos, which illu

Thus he stood for fully five htly set Then the neighbouring tower-clock of St Gerht Blakeney woke fro were once ht of soht with that of the lamp