Part 91 (1/2)
”I wonder if it's an illusion?” he muttered. ”I'll try again.”
He returned to the couch and lay down. Again it grew a second time plainer than before, if possible. He watched for a long time with a feeling of awe.
”I wonder if I'm looking into the face of my own soul?” he mused.
He studied this second image with keen interest. It was five shades paler than the first. The thing had happened to him once before and his wife had declared it a sign that he would be elected to a second term, but the paleness of the second image meant that he would not live through it. It was uncanny. He rose and paced the floor, laid down again, and the image vanished. What did it mean?
Only that day a secret service man had come to warn him of a new plot of a.s.sa.s.sination and beg him to double the guard.
”What is the use, my dear boy, in setting up the gap when the fence is down all around?”
”Remember, sir, they shot a hole through your hat one night last week on your way to the Soldiers' Home.”
”Well, what of it? If a man really makes up his mind to kill me he can do it----”
”You can take precautions.”
”But I can't shut myself up in an iron box--now, can I? If I am killed I can die but once. To live in constant dread of it is to die over and over again. I decline to die until the time comes--away with your extra guards! I've got too many now. They bother me.”
He threw off his depression and took up a volume of Artemus Ward's funny sayings to refresh his soul with their quaint humor. He must laugh or die. He had promised to see Betty Winter with a friend who had a pet.i.tion to present at ten o'clock. He would rest until she came.
John Vaughan had insisted on her coming at this unusual hour. She protested, but he declared the chances of success in asking for his father's release would be infinitely better if she took advantage of the President's good nature and saw him alone at night when they would not be interrupted.
As they neared the White House grounds, crossing the little park on the north side, Betty's nervousness became unbearable. She stopped and put her hand on John's arm.
”Let's wait until to-morrow?” she pleaded.
”The President is expecting us----”
”I'll send him word we couldn't come.”
”But, why?”
She hesitated and glanced at him uneasily:
”I don't know. I'm just nervous. I don't feel equal to the strain of such an interview to-night. It means so much to you. It means so much to me now that love rules my life----”
He took her hands in his and drew her into the friendly shadows beside the walk.
”Love does rule life, doesn't it?”
”Absolutely. I'm frightened when I realize it,” she sighed.
”You are all mine now? In life, in death, through evil report and good report?”
”In life, in death, through evil report and good report----yours forever, dearest!”
He took her in his arms and held her in silence. She could feel him trembling with deep emotion.
”There's nothing to be nervous about then,” he said, rea.s.suringly, as his arms relaxed. ”Come, we'll hurry. I want to send a message to my father to-night announcing his release.”