University of South Carolina Libraries
I Parrot & Co* I By I Harold MacGrath I Author of I 'The Carpet From Rugdad " II I The Place of Honeymoons," I Etc. (Copyright by Bobbs-Morrlll Company r 8YN0P8I3. CHAPTER i?Wurrlngton, an American adventurer, and James, his servant, with a caged parrot, the trio known up and down tho Irruwaddy us Parrot & Co.. l travel along the road to the landing, k bound for ltangoon to cash a draft for WJU.UOO lupous. CHAPTER II?Elsa diet wood, rich American girl tourist, sees Warrington come aboard the boat at the landing and, amazed at IiIh likeness to her (lance, Arthur Ellison, asks the purser to introduce her. Conservative English passengers are shocked at her breach of the conf" yctr\Hr\^uUl (??&* CHAPTER III ? The purser tells Elsa that Warrington, the outcast adventurer, i has beaten a syndicate and sold his oil claims for .C20.U00. Warrington puts Rajah, the parrot, through his tricks for Elsa and warns her against acquaintance with unknown adventurers?himself, in fact. I CHAPTER IV?Warrington and Elsa ^ pass two golden days together on the A river. Martha. Elsa's companion, warns her that there Is gossip. CHAPTER V?In Rangoon Warrington bnnks his draft, pays old dehts, and while settling with James in his old lodgings overhears and lnt? rf'-res in a row over cards in the next room. CHAPTER VI Warrington finds that the row in the ncM room is caused hy an enemy, Newell Craig, and threatens to shoot him unless he leaves town. Elsa tv goes for a walk with Martha, is annoyed Y hy Craig and stabs hint with u hatpin. ! Warrington bids Elsa good-by. She does j not tell him that she is to sail on the j same ship for Singapore. I ? CHAPTrR VII I Confidences. That night Martha wrote a letter. Jl During the writing of it she jumped at every sound; a footstep in the hall, the shutting of a door, a voice calling \ in the street. And yet, Martha was guilty of performing only what she considered to he her bounden duty. . My Dear Mr. Arthur: . . . T do not know what to make of it. His likeness to ^ you Is th?? most unheard of thing. He Is i a little bigger and broader and ho wono his heard longer. That's nil tho differ- j once. When ho came on tho boat that night, it was liko a !. n?i Hutching ;l( nr.* i throat. And yon I now how roihantie f% 101 sa is, for all she 1> liovos she Is prosaic. i ^ 1 am certain that si ? s"'s you Im this stranger who rails I iais If Warrington. I ? If only you hod had the foresight to follow us, a sailing or two Inter! And now ' they'll he together for four or five flays, wA down to Sh \r p ] . I don't like it. I There's something uncanny in the ?!;ir>g. ; 1 What if she did forbid you to f !]'?w? There are some proi ,:s s w< am 1 i!: roe i i' , ! to break. You should have fo'lmsd. Neither of us has the slightest idea what the man has don" to evilo himself in this horrible land for tea years. II" still behaves himself like a gentloni in, i and he must have h >n une in the past. H. Hut lie has never s'o'.en of his ho mm, of his past, of his p "p'o. We don't ova know that Warrington is his name. And r you know that's a s'gn that something is wrong. I wonder If you have .any relatives by tho name of Warrington? I begin to see that man's faee in my dreams. 1> I am worried. For Flsa is a puzzle, i She has always been one t?> me. I lmv" ! *i been with her sin -e her babyhood, and yet T know as little of what goes on In $ her mind as a stranger would. Her fa|r ther, you know, was a soldier, of fierce loves and hates; her mother was a handsome statue. Klsa has her father's scorn If for convention and his indepondeno", clothed In her mother's Impem trable ? mask. Don't mistake rue. Klsa is tho ity most adorable crealtire to mo, and I wnr' ship her; but T worry about her. I hoI'j lleve that it would 1 wis" on your port to meet us in San Francisco. Give my love and respect to your dear beautiful r mother. And marry Elsa as fast as ever i you can. The day of sailing was brilliant and , warm. Elsa sat in a chair on the deck of the tender, watching the passengers !as they came aboard. A largo tourist party bustled about, rummaged among the heaps of luggage, and shouted questions at their unhappy conductor. t sne saw noogniy standing in the V bow. A steamer trunk, a kit-bag, a bed^ ding-bag, and the inevitable parrot rage, reposed at his feet. He was jj watching without interest or excite! ' ment the stream passing up and down the gangplank. If his master came, very well; if he did not, he would get off with the luggage. How she would have liked to question him regarding his master! Elsa began to offer exJ cuscs for her interest in Warrington. He was the counterpart of Arthur Elli1 son. He had made his fortune against odds. He was a mystery. Why shouldn't 4 he interest her? Her mind was not ice, nor was her heart a stone. She 4 pitied him, always wondering what 'j was back of it all. She would be in /a Singapore; after that their paths would W widen and become lost in the future, ft and she would forget all about him, I; save in a shadowy way. She would [i marry Arthur whether she loved him r or not. She was certain that he loved * her. He was, besides, her own sort; J' and there wasn't any mystery about i him at all. He was as clear to her as glass. For nearly ten years she had i known him, since his and his mother's arrival in the small pretty Kentucky town. What was the use of hunting I a fancy? Yes, she would marry Arthur. She was almost inclined to cable him to meet her in San Francisco. That there was real danger in her interest in Warrington did not occur to her. The fact that she was now willt ing to marry Arthur, without analyzing the causes. that had brought ' this decision, should have warned her that she was dimly afraid of the stranger. Her glance fell upon the mandarin's ring. She twirled it round undecidedly. Should she wear it or put it away? The question remained suspended. She saw Craig coming aboard; and she hid her face behind her magazine. Upon second thought she let the magazine fall. She was quite confident that that chapter was closed. Craig might be a scoundrel, I but he was no fool. A sharp bias* from the tender's whistle drew her attention to the gangplank. The last man to come aboard was Warrington. He Immediately sought James; and they stood together chatting until the tender drew up alongside the steamer of the Hritish-India line. The two men shook hands linally, Warrington added a friendly tap on the Eurasian's shoulder. No one would have suspected hat the white man and his dark companion had been* "shipmates," in good times and in bad, for nearly a decade. Elsa, watching them from her secure nook, admired the lack of effusiveness. i no civility of the parting told her of the depth of feeling. An hour later they were heading for he delta. Elsa amused herself by casting bits >f bread to the gulls. Always they caught it on the wing, no matter in what direction she threw it. Sometimes one would wing up to her very iiand for charity, its coral feet stretched out to meet the quick backplay of tiie wings, its cry shallow and plaintive and world-lonely. Suddenly she became aware of a presence at her side. A voice said: "It was not quite ."air of you." "What wasn't?" without turning her head. She brushed her hands free of the crumbs. "You should have let me know that you were going to sail on this boat." "You would have run away, then." "Why?" startled at her insight. "I'ecauso you are a little ufrald of mo." She faced him, without a smile either on her lips or in lieu* eyes. Aren't you?" "Yes. I am afraid of all things I do not quite understand." "There is not the least need in the world, .Mr. Warrington. I am quite harmlers. My claws have been clipped. I am engaged to be married, and am going home to decide the day." "Ho's a lucky man." He was astonished at his calm, for the blow went deep. "Lucky? That Is in the future. What a lonely thing a gull is!" "What a lonely thing a lonely man is!" he added. Poor fool! To have dreamed so fair a dream for a singlo moment! He tried to believe that lie was glad that she had told him about the other man. The least this information could do would be to give him bevtcr control of himself. He had not !.h n cut in the open long enough outgo ly to master his feelings. Men ought not to be lonely," she said. "There's the excitement of i:, of mingling with crowds, of goi. g win and whore one nlonsen n's lot is wondering and waitat homo. When 1 marry I suppo o that 1 shall learn the truth of ( il.lt . Ik rlinps it was because he had been awr-.y from them so long and had lost -ack of the moods of the feminine mind; but surely it could not he possible that there was real happiness in his young woman's heart. Its evi<? nee was lacking in her voice, in her lace, in her gestures. He thought it over with a sigh. He felt sorry for the girl, sorry for the man; for it was not possible that a girl like this one would go through life without experiencing hut flash of insanity that is called the grand passion. iie loved her. Tic could lean against the rail, his shoulder lightly touching hers, and calmly say to himself that he loved her. He could calmly permit her to pass out of his life as a cloud passes down the sea-rim. Ho hadn't enough, but this evil must befall him. Love! He spread out his hands unconsciously. "What does that mean?" she asked, smiling now. "An invocation?" "It's a sign to ward off evil," he returned. "Are you expecting evil?" "I am always preparing myself to meet it. There is one thing that will always puzzle me. Why should you ' I Eica Stared at the Vacant Doorway. i'nvo asked the purser to pick out such a {ramp as I was? For I was a tramp." '1 thought I explained that." "N'ot clearly." "Well, them I shall make mvselt clear. The sight of you upon thai bank, the lights In your face, struck me us the strangest mystery that couM possibly confront me. I thought you were a ghost." "A ghost?" "Yes. So I asked the purser to introduce you to prove to my satisfaction that you weren't a ghost. Line for line, height for height, color for color, you are the exact counterpart of the man 1 am going home to marry." She saw the shiver that ran over him; she saw his eyes widen; she saw his hands knot in pressure over the rail. "The man you are going to marry!" he whispered. Abruptly, without explanation, ho walked away, his shoulders settled, his head bent. It was her turn to be amazed. What could this attitude mean? "Mr. Warrington!" she called. But lie disappeared down the companion way. CHAPTER VIII. A Woman's Reason. Elsa stared at the vacant doorway. ?... .1 ... - - - ' i v-v.u^iu/,rw Ulll V ?l SC11SI! (II OOW11dormont. Tliis was not one of those childish flashes of rudeness that had amused, annoyed and mystified her. She had hurt him. And how? They had been together three days on the boat, and once he had taken tea with her in Rangoon. She could find nothing save; that she had been kind to him when ho most needed kindness, and that she had not been stupidly curious, only sympathetically so. He interested her and held that interest because he was a type unlike anything she had met outside the covers of a book. He was so big and strong, and yet so boyish. He had given her visions of the character which had carried his manhood through all those years of strife and bitterness and temptation. And because of this she had shown him that she had taken it for granted that whatever ho had done in the past had not put him beyond the pale of her friendship. There had been no dograding entanglements, and women forgive or condone all other transgressions. And what had* slm just said or done to put that look of dumb agony in his face? She swung impatiently from the rail and began to promenade the deck, still cluttered with luggage over which the Lascar stewards were moiling. Many a glance followed the supple pleasing figure of the girl as she passed round and round the deck. Other proincnaders stepped aside or permitted her to pass between. Tlio resoluto uplift of the chin, and the staring dark ever which saw but inner visions, impressed tlicm with the fact that it would he wiser to step aside voluntarily. There were some, however, who considered that they had as much right to the deck as she. Before them she would stop shortly, and as a current breaks and passes each side of an immovable object, they, too, gave way. The colonel fussed and fumed, and his ti r-o spinster charges drew their pah lips hdo thinner paler lips. "These Americans are impossible!" "And it is scandalous the way the young women travel alone. One can never tell what tiny are." "Humph! Brag and assertivenoss. And there's that rullian who came down the river. What's he doing on the same boat? What?" Elsa became aware of their presence at the fifth turn. She nodded absently. Being immersed in the sea of conjecture regarding Warrington's behavior, the colonel's glare did not rouse in her the sense of impending disaster. I The first gong for dinner boomed. The echoing wail spoke in the voice of the East, of its dalliance, its content to drift in a sargasso sea of entangling habits and desires, of its fatalism and inertia. It did not hearten one or excite hunger. Elsa would rather have lain down in her Canton lounging-chair. The dining-saloon held two long tables, only one of which was in commission, the starboard. The saloon was unattractive. A punka stretched from one end of the table to the other, and swung indolently to and fro, whining mysteriously, sometimes subsiding altogether and then flapping hysterically and setting the women's hair awry. Elsa and Martha were seated somewhere between the head and the foot of the table. The personally-conducted surrounded them, and gabbed incessantly during the meal of what they had seen, of what they were going to see, and of what they had missed by not going with the other agency's party. Elsa's sympathy went out to the tired and faded conductor. There was but one vacant chair; and as she saw Warrington nowhere, Elsa assumed that this must be his reservation. She was rather glad that he would be beyond conversational radius. She liked to talk to the strange and lonely man, but she preferred to be alone with him when she did so. She began as of old to study carelessly the faces of the diners and to speculate as to their characters and neon nn t Inn a II n/miU/vn* vi uv^ii^cui uunui vti* tion roved from the pompous captain down to the dark picturesque face of the man Craig. Upon him her glance, a mixture of contempt and curiosity, rested. If he behaved himself and made no attempt to speak to her, she was willing to declare a truce. In Rangoon the man had been drunk, but on the Irrawaddy boat he had been sober enough. Craig kept his eyes directed upon his food and did not offer her j even a furtive glance. He was not in a happy state of m!nd. He had taken passage the last moment to av.?:?! meeting again the one. man ho feared. For ten years ik'* tnau hud ocen recKoned among Tn* lost. Many believed him dead, and Craig had wished it rather than believed. And then, to meet him face to face in that sordid boarding house had Shaken the cocl nerve of the gambler, lie was worried and bewildered. He had practically sent this man to ruin, j What would be the reprisal? He j i reached for a mangosteen and ate the j white pulpy contents, but without the j customary relish. The phrase kept | running through his head: What i I would be the reprisal? For men of his j ilk never struck without expecting to j be struck back. Something must be ! done. Should he seek him and boldly ; ask what he intended to do? Certainly ; I he could not do much on board here, 1 j except to denounce him to the olllcers : ! as a orofesaional enr.ihlrr And Pnnl ! I ^ " I would scarcely do that since he, Craig, had a better shot in his gun. He could 1 tell tVho Paul was and what he had , done. Bod'ly harm was what really i feared. He had seen Elsa, but he had woi ked | out that problem easily. She was sure j 1 to say nothing so long as he let her j bo; and with the episode of the hat- ! i pin still fresh in his memory, lie assuredly would keep his distance. He had made a mistake, and was not likely to repeat it. But Paul! He finished his dessert and went off to the stuffy little smokeroern, and struggled with a Burma cheroot. Paul was a smoker, and sooner or later he would drop in. He waited in vain for his man that night And so did Elsa. She fell indignant at one moment and hurt at another. The man's attitude was inexplicable; there was neither rhyme nor reason in it. The very fact that she could not understand made her wonder march beside her even in her dreams that night. She began to feel genuinely sorry that lie had appeared above her horizon. Just before she retired she loaned over the rail, watching the re flection of (ho stars twist and shivoi on the smooth water. Suddenly she i listened. She might have imagined it, for at night the ears deceive. "Jah, jah!" Somewhere from below cauu the muffled plaint of Rajah. Next day, at luncheon, the chair was still vacant. Elsa became alarmed Perhaps he was ill. She made in quiries, regardless of the possible misinterpretation her concern might b< j given by others. Mr. Warrington had had his meals served in his cabin, but the steward declared that the gentle : man was not ill, only tired and irritaj hie. and that he amused himself with a trained parrakeet. All day long the sea lay wavelesr and unrippled, a sea of brass and lapis lazuli; brass where the sun struck and lapls-lazuli in the shadow of the lazy swells. Schools of flying-fish broke J fan-wise in flashes of silver, and por ! poise sported alongside And wartnei and warmer grew the air. ! Starboard was rigged up for cricket . nd the ship's officers and some of tin j-.sseiigers played the game until tin i'rst geng. Pisa grumbled to Martha There was tilth enough space to wall. I in as it was without the nun takin over the whole side of the ship a no . heating her out 01 a glorious sunset Martha grew iroubi d and perplexed :i mere we. 3 one phase of charaoui r.nknov.i) to her in Eisa it was irri.iabil by; and here she was, liiiding fauh like any ordinary tourist. "Where is Mr. Warrington?" "I don't know. 1 haven't seen bin* since yesterday." Eisa dropped hei hook petulantly. "1 am weary of these namby-pamby stories." Martha's cj; s had a hopeless look in them as she asked: "Eisa, what is the matter?" "I don't know, Martha. I believe 1 should like to lose my temper utterly. I'm irritable because I do not know my own moid. I hate the stuffy stateroom, the lood, the captain. Nothing seems to disturb his conceit. Tonight sve sleep on deck, the starboard side. At live o'clock we have to get up and go inside again so they can holy-stone the deck. And I am always soundest asleep at that lime. Doubtless, 1 shall be irritable all day tomorrow." "Sleep up here on deck? But the men?" horrified. "They sleep on the port side." Elsa laughed maliciously. "Don't worry. Nobody minds." "I hate the East," declared Martha vindictively. "Everything is so slack. It just, brings out the shiftlessness in everybody." "Perhaps that is what ails me; I am growing shiftless. When I came on board I decided to marry Arthur, and l have; done with the pother. Now I am at the same place as when I left home. I don't, want to marry anybody. Have you noticed that fellow Craig?" "What will you do if he speaks?" "I have half a dozen good hatpins left," dryly. "I hate to hear you talk like that." "It's the East. . . . There goes that hateful gong again. Soup, chicken, curry, rice and piccalilli. I am go ing to live on plantains and mangesteens. I'm glad we had sense enough to order that distilled water. Come; we'll go dow n as we are to dinner, and watch the ridiculous captain and his fan-bearer. The punka will at least give us a breath of fresh air. There - uue?n i seem 10 De any on deck. One regrets Darjceling." Martha followed her young mistress into the diningsaloon; she was anx ious and upset. Where would this mood end? With a glance of relief she found Warrington's chair still vacant The saloon had an air of freshness tonight. All the men were in drill or pongee, and so receptive is the Imagination that the picture robbed the room of half its heat. To and fro the punka (lapped; the pulleys croaked and the ropes scraped above the sound of knives and forks and spoons. Kjra n<o little bee des ,;k. spok* ccarcely a word to Martha and ' none to those around her. Thus, she missed the frown of the colonel and the lifted brows of the spinsters and the curious glances of the tourists. The passenger list i>ud not yet come from the ship's press, so Elsa's name was p'pc'.ically unknown. But in some unaccountable manner it had become known that she had been making in"I really believe you were going to snub mo." "Then you haven't given mo up?" "Never mind what I have or have not done. Walk with me. 1 am going to talk plainly to you. If what I say is distasteful, don't hesitate to inter- ! rupt me. You interest me, partly be- | cause you act like a boy. partly be- : cause you are a man." "I haven't any manners." "They need shaking up and readJusting. ] have just been musing over a remarkable thing, that no two cb- j jects are alike. Even the most ac- 1 curato machinery cannot produce two , nails without variation. So it is with humans. You look so like the man I know ba*U home that it is impossible not to ponder over you." She smiled into his face. "Why should nature produce two persons who are m.stakcn for each oilier, and yet give them two souls, two Intellects, totally j different? Is nature experimenting, , or is she slyly playing a trick 0:1 humanity?" "Eet us call it a trick; by all means, , let us call it that." "Your tone . . ." "Yes, yes," impatiently; "you are going to say that it sounds bitter. Hut why should another man have a face like mine, when we have nothing in common? What right has he to look in,? line 111(J . "It is a puzzle," Elsa admitted. "This man who looks like me?T have no doubt it affects you oddly? probably lives in case; in fact, a yen- ; tlcman of your own ( lass, whose likes and dislikes are cut from the same pattern as your own. Well, that is as it should bo. A woman such as you are ought to marry an equal, a man whose mind and manners are fitted to the high place he holds in your affection and in your world. How many I worlds there are; man-made and j heaven-made, and each as deadly as , the other, as cold and implacable! To | you, who have been kind to me, 1 have acted like a fool. The truth is, I've ' been skulking. My vanity was hurt. 1 had the idea that it was myself and not my resemblance that appealed to your interest. What makes you trust me?" bluntly; and he stopped as he asked the question. "Why, I don't know," blankly. Instantly she recovered herself. "Hut I do trust, you." She walked on, and perforce ho fell into her stride. "It is because you trust the other man." "Thanks. That is it precisely; and or nearly tvo weeks I've been trying to solve that very thing." Alter a pause ho asked: "Have you e\or road Keade's 'bingleheart and IJcti'defaco?' " "Vo;. ITU what bearing has it upon )ttr Umcussion?" "None tin t you would understand." vasiv< ly. I lis tongue had nearly ripped him "Are you sure?" "Of this, that I shall never understand women." "He not try to," she advised. "All these n:cn who know most about women wore the unhappiest." They made a round in silence. Many an eye peered at them; and envy and admiration and curiosity brought their shafts to bear upon her. It was something to create these variant expressions of Interest. She was oblivious. "We stop at Pcumng?" she asked. "Five cr six hours, long enough to see the town." "\\'o won t fUropMv frr.,.. c?;..?r. . . v .. x * . M?I Wi tj I I Uilt |HM r to Colombo, so wo missed tho town coming out. I should li'*c to see that cocoanut plantation of yours." "It is too far inland. Besides, I am j persona non grata there." As, indeed, he was. His heart burned with shame and rage at the recollection of the last day there. Three or four | times, during the decade, the misfortune of being found out had fallen to ; his lot, and always when he was em- \ ployed at something worth while. Elsa discreetly veered into another channel. "You will go back to Italy, ! 1 suppose." "Yes, I shall go to Italy once more. , But first 1 am going home." He was j not aware of the grimnness that entered his voice as he made this statement. "I am glad." she said. "After all. that is the one place." "If you are happy enough to find a welcome." "And you will see your mother again?" IIo winced. "Yes. Do you know, it does not seem possible that I met you but two short weeks ago? I have never given much thought to this socalled reincarnation; but somewhere in tho past ages I knew you; only you weren't going home to marry the oth^ ? ?> tsr iciiuw. She stopped at the rail. "Who knows?" she replied ruminatingly. "Perhaps I *.m not going to marry him." "Don't you love him? ... I beg your pardon, Miss Chetwood!" "You're excused." "I still need some training. I have been alone so much that 1 haven't got over the trick of speaking my thoughts aloud." "No harm has been done. The fault lay with me." 1 "I used to learn whole pages from I stories and recite them to the trees or , to the parrot. It kept me from going mad I believe. I:i camp 1 handled coolies; none of whom could speak a w-rd ? f l'i > !> \ I did' t have .Ipjluos " i with me at that time. ?jo IM declaim, , merely to hear the sound of my voice. Afterward I learned that the cooliev looked upon me as a holy man. They believed I was nightly offering prayers to one of my gods. PerhapB 1 was; the god of reason. All that seems like a bad dr^am now." > 'Are you going to take Rajah with you?" luirles in regard to the gentleman fit cabin 78, who had thus far remained away from the table. Ship life is a dull life, and gossip is about the only thing that makes It possible to live through the day. It was quite easy to couple this unknown aloof young woman and the invisiblo man, and then to wait for results. It would have amused Elsa had she known the interest she had already created if ?J II.- 1-- -- ' * mn hit ut'uuiy anu ncr ai>parent indifference to her surroundings were particularly adapted to the romantic mood of her fellow-travelers Her own mind was so broad and generous, so high and detached, thai so sordid a tiling as "an affair" never entered her thoughts. As she refused course after course, a single phrase drummed incessantly through her tiled brain. She was not going to marry Arthur; never, never in this world. She did not love him. and this was to be final. She would cable him from Singapore. That night Craig found it insupportable in the cabin below; so he ordered his steward to bring up his bedding. He had lain down for half an hour, grown restless, and had begun to walk the deck in his bath slippers. Ho had noted the still white figure forward, where the cross-rail marks the Turned His Dull Ryes Upon His Ancient tins my. waist. As ho approached. Craic dis covered his man. He hesitated only a moment; then he touched Warrington's arm. Warrington turned Ids dull eyes upon his ancient enemy. "So it's you? I understood you were on board. Well?" uncompromisingly. "I've been looking for you. Bygones are bygones, and what's done can't be undone by punching a fellow's head. I'm not looking for trouble,' went on Craig, gaining assurance. am practically down and out myself. What stand are you going to take on board hero? That's all 1 want to know." "It would give mo great pleasure, Craig, to take you by the sen ff of your neck and drop you overboard. But as you say, what's been done can't bo remedied by bashing in a man's head. Well, here you are. since you ask. If you speak to me, if 1 catch you playing cards or auctioneering a pool, if you make yourself obnoxious to any of the passengers, I promise to give you the llnest thrashing you ever had, the moment we reach Penang. If you don't go ashore there. I'll do it in Singapore. Have 1 made myself clear?" "That's square enough, Paul," said me gammer resignedly. There wasn't much money on board these two-byfour boats, anyhow, so he wasn't losing much. Warrington leaned forward. "Paul? You said Paul?" "Why, yes," wonderingly. "Potter go." "All right." Craig returned to his mattress. "Now, what made him curl up like that because 1 called him Paul? Pah!" He dug a hole in his piiiow and tried to sleep. "Paul!" murmured Warrington. He stared down at the flashes of phosphorescence, blindly. The man had called him Paul. After ton years to learn the damnable treachery of it! Suddenly he clenched his hand and ? A %- At- " * * * BirucK me tan. ne would go back. All his loyalty, all his chivalry, had gone for naught. This low rascal had called him Paul. i Continued next week) Submarine Mine Layert. A Daily Mail dispatch from Copen hagen dated Thursday says: "Emperor William, with his brother Admiral Prince Henry of Prussia, and Admiral Von Tirpitz, the minister of the navy, and their respective staffs, loft Berlin last week for Wilhelmshaven, Helgoland, and other naval stations to direct the arrangements for blockading England. "It is reported that the Germans have built 120 big mine laying submarines during the last six months each with a carrying c :pacy < f mere than 100 mines."