Part 69 (1/2)

The streets are deserted; the city is asleep In the fog and rain, the gray buildings reseuard like ht, and wander along the docks The mist weaves phantom shapes, and I see a multitude of people and in their e, lustrous eyes The crowd curses and yells in frenzied passion, and arms are raised, and blows rain down on the lad's head The rain beats heavier, and every drop is a blow The boy totters and falls to the ground The wistful face, the dreaosz!

Accursed spot! I cannot die here I must to New York, to be nearwakes me

”Say, Mister,” a voice calls behind the door, ”are you all right?”

”Yes”

”Will you have a bite, or so?”

”No”

”Well, as you please But you haven't left your roo on two days now”

Two days, and still alive? The road to death is so short, why suffer? An instant, and I shall be no more, and only the memory of me will abide for a little while in this world _This_ world? Is there another? If there is anything in Spiritualism, Carl will learn of it In the prison we had been interested in the subject, and we had made a compact that he who is the first to die, should appear in spirit to the other Pretty fancy of foolish man, born of immortal vanity! Hereafter, life after death--children of earth's misery The disharmony of life bears dreams of peace and bliss, but there is no harmony save in death Who knows but that even then the atoms of my lifeless clay will find no rest, tossed about in space to foruish

And so Carl will not seewill re reone Dear Carl, he will be distraught at ed a lecture there, following Cleveland It is peculiar that I should not have thought of wiring hiht have suspended preparations But it did not occur to me, and now it is too late

The Girl, too, will be in despair over my disappearance I cannot notify her now--I am virtually dead Yet I crave to see her once more before I depart, even at a distance But that also is too late I am almost dead

I dress mechanically, and step into the street The brilliant sunshi+ne, the people passingabout, strike on rips me to be one of thee to think ofhumanity Am I not dead?

I roam about all day At dusk I am surprised to find ht be seen and recognized A sense of guilt steals over ain to the faht in the park An oldthe warmth of my body But I ahborhood of the Girl An irresistible force attracts me to the house Repeatedly I return to ain I a detours to the Battery and the Bronx, but again and again I findon the people passing in and out of the house My mind pictures the Girl, with her friends about her What are they discussing, I wonder ”Why, ht appalls ht with anxiety over my disappearance Perhaps they think raph office, and quickly pen ahere”

In a flurry of suspense I wait for the return of the nize Tess, and inwardly resent that the Girl did not come herself

”Aleck,” she falters, ”Sonya wasn't hoe came I'll run to find her”

The old dread of people is uponthe Girl I sturaph office, and suddenly come face to face with her

Her appearance startles me The fear of death is in her face, ripsstep

XII

I openquiet pervades the place The portieres part noiselessly, and the Girl looks in