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you Imagine that a man may be, at
one moment, a respected citizen,
with a life career before him, and,
five minutes later, a man with the
brand of Cain upon his forehead. If
you can, look at me, and you will see
such a man.
"Two days ago I had dined at
Princess' restaurant, in Piccadilly. I
strolled up toward Hyde Park in the
evening, enjoying the summer air and
thinking of my future. I had used
life successfully; I was becoming
known as a leader at the bar. Every
thing seemed roseate. I had reachea
Hyde Park before I was aware of it,
and entering, I seated myself upon a
chair. As I sat there, concealed by a
tree from passers by, a hansom
stopped. A man and woman in even
ing dress got out The man was mad
with excitement; the woman was
calm.
"He was talking like a maniac,
threatening her, apparently. I could
not help overhearing what he said; to
have risen would have attracted his
attention and put the woman to
greater humiliation. 'And it happened
too quickly for me to make up my
mind whether to stay or go.
"I gathered that they were hus
band and wife. He wanted her to
divorce him and she refused. She had
conscientious scruples, it seemed. He
was infatuated with another woman.
He pleaded, swore, raged at her, us
ing language that no woman should
even know. And at last he took her
by the shoulder and struck her across
the mouth.
"You know how one acts in such
emergencies, withbut thinking.
Something seemed to snap inside my
brain. I sprang from my seat and
drove my fist into his face. He fell
back, striking a lamp-post with his
head, quivered a moment, and lay
still. When I raised him I could see
at once that he was dead.
"The woman stood like a stone.
She said nothing, because there was
nothing to say. I knew that she was
glad; the insult had merited no other
I penalty. And I was glad that I had
set her free. But I was a murderer,
and the English law knows no mercy.
"I took the first train for South
ampton and bought a ticket to Amer
ica. I booked as James Richmond I
my real name is Carlyle. I found, by
inquiry, that you were traveling
alone, though your husband's name
was down upon the list That was
after the steward had placed me at
your side, taking me for him. I should
not have tried such a trick, even to
escape death, had not fortune seemed
to offer this avenue of escape to me."
He looked up for the first time. "If
you will let me keep your husband's
name," he said, "it will not harm or
compromise you in any way. And I
can land; otherwise I shall be arrest
ed in New York. As I said, life is
sweet, but I have a stronger reason.
I have a sister to support and if I die
or suffer life imprisonment she will
starve."
Edith Durham placed her hand
lightly on his.
"I will do as you ask," she said, in
a voice trembling with emotion, "be
cause of your sister's sake and yours
and also for the sake of that un
known woman whom you so chival
rously defended, because because I
think she must be glad." She shud
dered. "My own marriage has been
unhappy," she said. "Do not believe
that a woman loves and clings to a
brutal husband. I I" She could not
speak further.
He carried Edith Durham's suit
case down the gangway at New York
unmolested. He had stooeVby her side
in the saloon, answering the ques
tions of the immigration officer, well
aware that the quiet, shrewd-eyed
man who sat beside him was a detec
tive from the police department He
had seen the man's gaze light on him
inquiringly and had seen the detec
tive whisper to the immigration offi
cial. And he had returned the glance
unflinchingly, because he knew than
the loyalty of the woman beside him
would carry him through all dangers.
