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Updated: June 20, 2025
"If I had a son, I would teach him obedience as heaven's first law, for so only can a man be trained to obey his own better self." Enoch's Diary. The Secretary had no intention of waking the strange little village at night. He thought that, once he had relocated it, he would wait until dawn before rousing any one. But he had not counted on the village dogs.
Enoch's Kirk,* where, he said, "a soul-searching divine was to haud forth," I set myself seriously to consider what were best to be done.
Brown raised his eyebrow. "Will you be seated, Mr. Huntingdon?" "Not in your office, sir. Mr. Brown, I have endured from your hands that which no man would think to make another endure." Enoch's beautiful voice was low but its resonance filled the office. His eyes were like blue ice.
Diana, you are going to dine with me." "Yes, Enoch!" "Diana! Oh, how lovely you are! Diana, it's a wonderful night, with a full moon. I want you to walk with me to the Eastern Club. I have something to tell you. And while I'm telling you, no four walls must hem us in." Diana, her great eyes shining in response to Enoch's, turned without a word and went back upstairs.
He wished to have a friend, who during an hour of a morning might afford him conversation. Perhaps he might occasionally trouble him to commit a few thoughts to writing; but that might be as it happened. If I would come and reside in his house, and act in this friendly manner with him, he should be gratified and I not injured. Enoch's open eyes twinkled with joy: sparkle they could not.
The waiter nodded and, sinking into Jonas' chair, closed his eyes. Jonas carried the tray into a handsome, smoke filled room, where four men with intent faces were gathered around a card table. Enoch, in his shirt sleeves, was dealing as Jonas set a steaming cup at his elbow. Perhaps the intensity of the colored man's gaze distracted Enoch's attention for a moment from the cards.
The President raised his eyebrows with a little smile. "Yes, if you tell me what's happened to Fowler." Enoch's smile was twisted as he went out. Milton immediately began to speak. "Mr. President, can't you make Mr. Huntingdon tell about his vacation?" The chief executive shook his head. "Perhaps it's not best. Perhaps he did have a lapse into his boyhood habits.
"I didn't mean to be so personal. Just like a woman!" sighed Diana. "But do you think I'm a woman hater?" insisted Enoch. Diana looked up earnestly. "Please, Mr. Huntingdon, if our friendship is to ripen, you must not force it." Enoch's face grew suddenly white. There swept over him with bitter realism a conception of the falseness of the position into which he was permitting himself to drift.
Enoch's mind was burdened with the mystery of Halpen's presence in the Grants at this time, however. Surely the Yorker could not be upon private business. He must have a mission from either the land speculators, the New York authorities, or from those even higher.
Anne's beautiful voice rose and fell with wonderful expression, while the music served to accentuate every word that she uttered. Her audience sat practically spell bound, and when she uttered poor Enoch's death cry, "A sail! A sail! I am saved!" there were many wet eyes throughout the assemblage.
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