Part 59 (2/2)

Almost the first person as none other than Felipe, the arriero

He sat on the steps of the hotel portico as we rode up on our ht of his white face and staring eyes as he rose slowly to his feet, gazing at us as though fascinated

I opened my mouth to call to him, but before the words leftyell of terror and bounded down the steps and past us, with ar like one possessed Nor did he return during the few hours that we re the yacht at Callao When I had discovered, to my profound astonishment, at the hacienda, that another year had taken us as far as the tenth day of March, I had greatly doubted if we should find Captain Harris still waiting for us But there he was; and he had not even put hi uneasy about us

As he hiht in the cabin, over a bottle of wine, he ”didn't know but what the senora had decided to take the Andes hoed in the little matter of transportation”

But when I inforrew sober with genuine regret and sorrow He had s to say of her then; it appeared that she had really touched his salty old heart

”She was a gentle lady,” said the worthy captain; and I smiled to think how Desiree herself would have sreat Le Mire

We at once made for San Francisco There, at a loss, I disposed of the remainder of the term of the lease on the yacht, and we took the first train for the East

Four days later ere in New York, after a journey saddened by thoughts of the one who had left us to return alone

It was, in fact, many months before the shadow of Desiree ceased to hover about the dark oldthe ancient halls and portraits of Laone in a day when La Marana herself had darted like a meteor into the hearts of their contemporaries

That is, I suppose, properly the end of the story; but I cannot refrain from the opportunity to record a curious incident that has just befallen raph--I aany table, close to athrough which the Septeo, as I say, Harry sauntered into the rooe armchair on the other side of the table

I looked up with a nod of greeting, while he sat and eyedwith me down to Southampton?” he asked finally

”What ti up

”Eleven-thirty”

”What's on?”

”Freddie Marston's Crocodiles and the Blues It's going to be souess I'll run doith you I'h!” Harry arose to his feet and began idly fingering some of the sheets on the table before me ”What is all this silly rot, anyway?”

”My dear boy,” I smiled, ”you'll be sorry you called it silly rot when I tell you that it is a plain and honest tale of our own experiences”

”Must be deuced interesting,” he observed ”More silly rot than ever”

”Others may not think so,” I retorted, a little exasperated by histo read of hoere buried with Desiree Le Mire under the Andes, and our encounters with the Incas, and our final escape, and--”

”Desiree what?” Harry interrupted