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"Saul," said Donaldson quietly, "you 're doing your best to make me go back upon my story. You can't do it." Saul folded his arms. "Of all the heroic liars," he gasped, his face beaming, "you 're the prince. And," he continued in an undertone, "it 's all for the sake of a girl." Donaldson sprang to his feet. "Don't bring in her name, Saul," he commanded.
Donaldson without waiting for an answer pushed past Arsdale and the latter allowed it, but followed at his heels. Donaldson knew where she was without being told. She was in the big front room where the balcony led outdoors. He went up the stairs heavily, for he knew that more depended on the next half hour than had anything so far in all this harrowing week.
All eyes were eagerly turned in that direction, and a general exclamation of thankfulness escaped, as Milly was seen running towards the scene of action. She had been down seeing old Mrs Donaldson, and knew nothing of what had occurred, till she came in sight of the conflagration.
"I don't believe you, Don." "No? Yet you 've got as much evidence against me as against Arsdale." "But, God A'mighty, Donaldson, why should you do such a thing?" "Why should the boy?" Saul seized his arm. "You don't tell me that you've fallen into that habit?" "Sit in a law-office and do nothing for three years, then then, perhaps, you 'll understand." Saul threw away his cigar.
Arlington has written at his request to a friend, in what city I may not say, and with some of his father's youthful finery, and the shoe and knee-buckles aforesaid, will make an excellent beau for these belles. Col. Donaldson, always ready for any harmless mirth, says they must accept him in his father's continental uniform for another. Mr.
Thus, it being clear that we must sacrifice either our stomachs or our gas, Donaldson held open the safety valve until we were once more safely landed on mother earth, but not until after we had received a pretty severe pounding about, for such a high wind blew that the anchor was slow in holding.
"Off an' on in th' last few weeks." Donaldson turned to the girl whose features had grown fixed again in that same old gloom of haunting fear. "They circulate such yarns as those about every closed house," he said. "Those lights and shadows are n't made by ghosts," she whispered. "Then that's so," he answered with sudden understanding. "It's the boy himself!"
"Because," she flushed guiltily, "because it will be very much pleasanter than remaining here alone." Whereupon the woman in the mirror ceased her questioning. And, in the meanwhile, the relentless old clock was goading Donaldson. Its methodical, interminable ticking sounded like the approaching footsteps of a jailer towards the death cell.
Though there was plenty of light he groped his way close to the wall like a blind man. At the closed door he paused to catch his breath. In the meanwhile the boy, half frantic, pounded on the panels, shouting over his shoulder, "She won't let us in, I tell you! She won't let us in! She may be dead!" At this, Donaldson forced Arsdale back.
When Barstow handed him the glass, which must have held a pint, Donaldson trembled so that he could hold it to his lips only by using both hands, as those with palsy do. He swallowed it in great gulps. He felt as though he were burning up inside. The room began to swim around him, but with his hands kneading into the old sofa he warded off unconsciousness.
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