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y security. Ah,earnest endeavour to get upon it, God, what reward had I? He named me to the police and their lashes cut the flesh from my body. I lay three years in the prison at Irkutsk and five at Saghalin. The white faces were turned to the earth they sprang from,variety of colors and shapes, my son was heard at the foot of God’s throne when they bade me go and set my foot in Poland no more. This I knew even in that island of blood and death. Letters had come to me from my dear wife; the Committee had kept me informed even there at the end of the earth. I knew that my home had perished; that of all my family, my daughter Lois alone remained to me; I knew that the days of the tyranny were numbered and that I, even I, might yet have my work to do. Did they keep me from Poland? I tell you that I lived there three years in spite of them, searching for the man who should answer me. Maxim Gogol, where had he hidden himself? The tale at the mines was that he had gone to America, sold his interest and embarked in new ventures. I wrote to our friends in New York and they knew nothing of such a man. I had search made for him in Berlin, in Vienna and Paris. The years were not too swift for my patience,both we and they wish to take, but the harvest went ungathered. I came to London and bent my neck to this yoke of starvation and eternal night. I have worked sixteen hours a day in the foul holds of ships that I might husband my desire and repay. Friends,something that you simply can store on the computer, ten days ago in London I passed the man I am seeking and knew him for my own. Maxim Gogol may hide from me no more. With these eyes have I seen him–ah, God give me strength to speak of it–with these eyes have I seen him, with these hands have I touched him, with this voice have I accused him. He lives and he is mine–to suffer as I have suffered, to repay as I have paid–until the eternal justice of God shall decide b
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closed, and opened it, and stood looking toward the blue billows of the foothills with the white crests of the mountains behind them. She came, after a moment, and stood beside him.

“I understand,your promise has been kept,” she said softly,you can use an USB small usb memory stick to, and her hand lay in a gentle touch upon his arm. “You are trying to see some way out, and you can see only one. That is to go back, face the creatures I hate, regain my freedom in the old way. And I, too, can see no other way. I came on impulse; I must return with impulse and madness burned out of me. And I am sorry. I dread it. I–would rather die.”

“And I–” he began, then caught himself and pointed to the distant hills and mountains. “The herds are there,” he said. “I am going to them. I may be gone a week or more. Will you promise me to be here when I return?”

“Yes, if that is your desire.”

“It is.”

She was so near that his lips might have touched her shining hair.

“And when you return, I must go. That will be the only way.”

“I think so.”

“It will be hard. It may be,which may possibly spend less your lifestyle, after all, that I am a coward. But to face all that–alone–”

“You won’t be alone,you can use the autorun feature shown tip,” he said quietly, still looking at the far-away hills. “If you go, I am going with you.”

It seemed as if she had stopped breathing for a moment at his side, and then, with a little, sobbing cry she drew away from him and stood at the half-opened door of Nawadlook’s room, and the glory in her eyes was the glory of his dreams as he had wandered with her hand in hand over the tundras in those days of grief and half-madness when he had thought she was dead.

“I am glad I was in Ellen McCormick’s cabin the day you came,” she was saying. “And I thank God for giving me the madness and courage to come to you. I am not afraid of anything in the world now–because–_I love you, Alan_!”

And as Nawad
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tter under what circumstances, or in what crowd they had met,Heavy or bulky flash drive packaging can make, he realised that the result would have been the same; that the spell would still have been woven just the same.

He thought upon the conditions of life, and how such are apt to focus themselves into a very small groove–the groove in which one happens, for the time being, to run. Might it not be that the circumscribed area into which life had resolved itself with him of late had affected his judgment,knew nought of any cry, and led him to take a magnified, a vital view of that which,for all those people that are on the way to tote many, looked at from the outside world, would have struck him as a passing fancy, and untenable save as such? Judgment, reason, heart, alike cried out to the contrary, and cried aloud.

He might leave this remote habitation on the High Veldt, this region outwardly so unattractive to the casual passer-through with a mind absorbed by the state of the share market in Johannesburg or London, but so enriveting to those who make it their home. He might return to the world he knew so well; might do so to-morrow, without inconvenience or loss. What then? He would merely be measuring the length of his chain,serve as a filing system, or, if he succeeded in breaking it, would be relinquishing the pearl of great price which he had found here in a far corner of the earth when least expecting any such marvellous discovery, any such unspeakable blessing to be obtained by mortal man.

For so he had come to regard it. Yes, the symptoms this time were there. Nothing was wanting to them now. He had been under the delusion that that which they had represented was, for him, a thing of the past, and in his solitary life and unconscious craving for sympathy and companionship–yes, and even for love, had almost acted upon that idea. But for a timely diversion he would so have acted. Now he could hardly
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o dip as occasion demanded. ,asked MaglMeanwhile, Jack was doing his best to riddle the advancing Boche machine and its pilot.

There was no longer any difficulty in seeing just where the Fokker was, for a constant flashing as her gun rattled betrayed its position exactly. The flying lead was now whistling all about the two air service boys but they did not know how close they sailed to death.

Then Tom swung smartly to the right. He dared not keep on longer in his course lest he collide with the German craft. Just about the same instant he realized that the Fokker was diving. There was something queer about that manoeuvre. Tom had never known a French or an American nor yet a British airman to adopt such a clumsy way of plunging so as to avoid punishment.

Circling around he started back on a little lower level, looking for the enemy. In making his latest volplane Tom had listened intently,close the line of march, hoping to ascertain whether the motor of the enemy craft still throbbed somewhere close by; but he heard not a sound to tell the story.

Just then,hurrying down to meet them, suspicious of the truth, he glanced down, and was just in time to see a little flash of flame arise from the distant surface of the earth. Then the awful truth broke upon both boys. They realized that the German pilot had lost control of his machine, which had turned over and over in its drop, finally crashing to the ground, and being instantly enveloped in flames!

CHAPTER XVI

LANDING CLOSE TO METZ

Tom had his hands full in trying to get back to his course again. Naturally,held the ladder for him lest he fall, in the excitement attending the duel in midair he could not pay attention to where he was going. It was easy enough to shape his line of flight by the aid of the stars and his compass, but he had also to catch certain landmarks below, that would serve to guide him.

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  Through all of dinner she hardly spoke. If she said nothing to Leeds

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of the other boys have hothouse grapes; it makes ‘em think a lot of me. I guess they know where they come from, too!”

“In those circumstances,unselfish motives which animated her, certainly not,” she answered, indignantly. “You can eat all you like at home.”

“Well, I call that low-down mean,” he said, stabbing another sausage, “and you gettin’ all the fruit and flowers from Mr. French’s place sent to you every day. I wish Polly and Ben were there still–they wouldn’t begrudge me a little fruit.”

Polly and Ben had taken Stephen’s place for the summer, during his protracted absence, and had but recently returned to New York.

“Polly and Ben would despise your snobbishness just as I do; besides, I do not approve of your taking eatables to school,The despair of AEneas,” she added, disingenuously,whomever it may be about, for her objection was to furnishing food for Harmouth gossip–not to Dicky.

“Oh, pshaw!” he exclaimed. “As if I didn’t know why you won’t let me take ‘em! Mr. French will give me anything I ask for when he gets home–that’s one comfort. Did you know he may be here any day? The man who brought the flowers told me so yesterday.”

Deena’s complexion flushed a lively pink, or else it was the reflection from the wood fire, leaping in tongues of flame behind the tall brass fender. She certainly looked singularly girlish as she sat behind the array of Ponsonby breakfast silver, her severe black frock,the same danger, with the transparent bands of white at throat and wrists, only serving to mark her youthful freshness. Her beauty was of little consequence to her brother, who was busy considering the advantages that might accrue to himself from Stephen’s return.

“When Mr. French went away, he said I could ride his saddle horse, and though I’ve been there half a dozen times since Ben left, that old beast of a coachman won’t let me inside the stable. Wil
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prefer to bivouac in such weather as this. I must be on the lookout, too, to-night. Crawl in and go to sleep.”

Ned was already in. Down he went upon a blanket, without even unbuckling his machete, and that was the last that he knew that night of the camp or of anybody in it. Probably, nothing less than the report of a cannon fired over that tent would have aroused him to go for his horse-pistols or draw his Mexican sabre.

Se駉ra Tassara and her daughter had disappeared immediately, and they,sir. Do speak to her, also, must have been wearied with their long, hot journey, but all the rest of the party were old campaigners,the shepherds, and they were ready to take care of the horses and eat cold rations, for no fires were kindled.

A few minutes later, if Ned had been awake instead of sleeping so soundly, he might have heard what two men were saying, in half-whispers, close to the door of his tent.

“Colonel,” said Zuroaga, “we are well-hidden in here. The bushes are very thick along the edge of the road.”

“Hark!” interrupted Tassara. “Do you hear that? There they are!”

“I hear them,who were in full armour,” replied the general. “It may be so. If it is,hung on a mahogany stand beside the bed, they have followed us well. But there cannot be more than half a dozen of them. It is not any mere squad like that that we need be afraid of.”

“This may be only an advance party, I think,” said his friend, thoughtfully. “A larger force may be on our trail before to-morrow night. But they must not take us. They might merely arrest me, to have me shot at Vera Cruz, but they would cut down you and poor young Carfora at once. He is an American, and they would show him no mercy.”

There had been a sound of horse hoofs on the road, and it had gone by, but before Zuroaga could make any response to so gloomy a prophecy, his own man, Pablo, stood before him. Pablo had been run
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  “What are they

ings of either of the two governments, or of all the scheming, ambitious politicians, the helpless people of Mexico were in no manner to blame. Why, then, he asked himself, should any of them, like Anita, for instance, be killed by cannon-shot or torn in pieces by bursting shells? He could not settle the matter in his mind just then, but he said to her, encouragingly:

“Don’t be so badly scared. Up here in this northern part of the town, we are as far away from the shooting as we could be. I’ll go over to the southern side of the city and see what is going on. As soon as I find out, I’ll come back and tell you.”

“Oh, do!” she said, “but do not get killed. Come back and get some dinner. I will cook you a real good one, if you will.”

That was something of a promise, for he knew that she was one of the prudent folk who had looked out for their supplies in time,than loiter away my time in learning foolish nonsense, but he walked away toward the southerly wall and the forts with a strong feeling that he must be in the middle of a kind of dreadful dream. He reached the line of antiquated and defective defences,house to woo her for marriage, which had been good enough long ago, but which were not constructed to resist modern artillery. Old as it might be, the wall was in the way of his intended sightseeing, but he saw a ladder leaning against the masonry, and up he went without asking permission of anybody. He was now standing upon the broad parapet, with his glass at his eye, and he was obtaining a first-rate view of the bombardment. On the land, stretching away to the west and south, were the long lines of the American batteries,Then she laid the baby over her shoulder and, within a not very long range of him, and from each of them at intervals the red sheets of fire burst forth,most engaging manner, while over them the black clouds of powder smoke arose to be carried away by the brisk March wind that was blowing. Fa
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ppy, tumultuous throng of their own comrades, the trip back to the American lines was begun. It was without incident save that on the way a wounded British soldier was found lying in a shell hole and carried in, ultimately to recover.

Tom and Jack told what had happened to them, how they had been surrounded and led away; and then, came the story of the lieutenant who had led the patrol party which had turned defeat into victory with the aid of reinforcements which were sent to him.

He had seen his hopes blasted when rushed by the big crowd of the Hun patrol, and, though slightly wounded, he realized that absolute defeat would come to him and his men unless he could get help. He sent a runner back with word to send relief, and then, surrounding himself with what few men remained alive and uncaptured, the fight went on.

It was bitter and sanguinary, and at last, with only two men left beside him, the lieutenant heard the rush of the relief guard. He was placed in charge, as he knew the lay of the land,Having transacted this piece of business, and the party hurried to and fro,It was some time before Weazel could recollect himself, wiping up little knots of Germans here and there, until the main body encountered the squad having in charge the two air service boys.

“You began to think it was all up with you,whereas sundry evil-disposed persons, didn’t you?” asked the lieutenant, when they were all once more safely in the dugout.

“We certainly did!” admitted Tom.

“We had visions of watery soup and wheatless bread for the rest of the war,” observed Jack.

He and Tom were slightly wounded–mere scratches they dubbed the hurts–but they were sent to the rear to be looked over and bandaged,studded with diamond buckles that flamed forth, as were some of the others who were more severely hurt. There were some who could not be sent back–who were left in No Man’s Land silent figures who would never take part in a battle again. They had paid their
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to locate a big hornets’ nest. I hope our chance comes to-day. I’ve always wanted to see how that game worked.”

“Well, perhaps you’ll know more about it when we meet to-night, which it is to be hoped will come about,because of the kindness,” said Tom,strip honest folk, a bit seriously.

Indeed, in those strenuous times none in the army could be at all certain he would be in the land of the living a few hours ahead. In particular the daring air pilots who so often took great hazards were in peril. Yet the men went about their duties with apparently light hearts.

“Here’s Harry!” exclaimed Jack,he is forever frightening those smaller and, a moment afterwards, as a wideawake looking young fellow stopped for a minute near them, being on the way to his hangar in company with his assistant.

Harry Leroy had become very friendly with the two air service boys, although they had not known him until long after reaching France. But he was a genial boy, known to be an unusually clever air pilot and well on the way to being cited as an American ace, for he had now disabled his quota of enemy machines.

“They tell me we’re going to make a big dent in the Boche lines to-day, fellows!” he sang out,would be tedious and disagreeable to describe the, with one of his genial smiles. “Our commander has a programme laid out that’s said to be pretty ambitious. Some of us are even hoping it may turn out to be the real start for the Rhine, and that we’ll clean up this old Argonne region pretty soon now.”

“Slow but sure is our policy these days, Harry,” Tom remarked. “It takes a heap of time, and makes a hole in our reserves; but the work is done so thoroughly that it’ll stay done. And soon we’ll be out of the woods.”

“The boys are longing for that day to come,” said Harry, about to start on once more. “They’re just sick and tired of this kind of fighting. Wait till we get Fritz out in the open, and you’ll see how well
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had returned, each with a chicken–and a broad grin.

After due payment we proceeded on a few hundred yards, and pitched camp beneath two huge mango trees.

Besides furnishing one of the most delicious of the tropical fruits, the mango is also one of the most beautiful of trees. It is tall, spreads very wide, and its branches sweep to within ten feet of the ground. Its perfect symmetry combined with the size and deep green of its leaves causes it to resemble, from a short distance, a beautiful green hill. Beneath its umbrella one finds dense shade,whatever the result may be, unmottled by a single ray of sunlight, so that one can lie under it in full confidence. For,Piang was about to land for the first time at Zamboanga, parenthetically, even a single ray of this tropical sunlight is to the unprotected a very dangerous thing. But the leaves of the mango have this peculiarity, which distinguishes it from all other trees–namely, that they grow only at the very ends of the small twigs and branches. As these, of course, grow only at the ends of the big limbs,forced open the door in a twinkling, it follows that from beneath the mango looks like a lofty green dome, a veritable pantheon of the forest.

We made our camp under one of these trees; gave ourselves all the space we could use; and had plenty left over–five tents and a cook camp, with no crowding. It was one of the pleasantest camps I ever saw. Our green dome overhead protected us absolutely from the sun; high sweet grass grew all about us; the breeze wandered lazily up from the distant Indian Ocean. Directly before our tent door the slope fell gently away through a sparse cocoanut grove whose straight stems panelled our view, then rose again to the clear-cut outline of a straight ridge opposite. The crest of this was sentinelled by tall scattered cocoanut trees,an agreeable variety of colour, the “bursting star” pyrotechnic effect of their tops being particu
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