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Updated: June 9, 2025
When Warren Reyburn started on his first trip to Tinsdale his mind was filled with varying emotions. He had never been able to quite get away from the impression made upon him by that little white bride lying so still amid her bridal finery, and the glowering bridegroom above her.
Reyburn looked, and found himself looking into Betty's eyes. Only a newspaper cut, and poor at that, but wonderfully real and mournful, as they had struck him when she lifted them for that swift glance before she sank in the church aisle. "Where did you get this?" he asked, his voice suddenly husky. "Out o' the mornin' paper." Her tone was low and excited. "Were you wanting to try for the reward?"
I wrote a confirmation of my report, using his own words in connection with the remarks of policeman Ross, and took it to Dr. Reyburn, Burgeon-in-chief in the sanitary work. The doctor approved my statement, and wrote a few lines of preface himself. As I used Mr.
Betty smiled dreamily: "I don't think they are exactly uncultured," she said slowly. "They well, you see, they make a friend of God, and somehow I think that makes a difference. Don't you think it would?" "I should think it would," said Warren Reyburn reverently with a light in his eyes. "I think, perhaps, if you don't mind my saying it, that you, too, have been making a friend of God."
"I've thought sometimes, ever since I saw that paper in which they hinted that I was temporarily insane, that they might try to shut me up in an insane asylum. Herbert wouldn't stop at anything. Could he do that?" "They would have to get a doctor to swear that you were mentally unsound," said Reyburn, looking troubled.
He put out his hands and drew her to his side with a protecting motion, and she whispered: "Tell, them, please; oh, make them understand." Then Reyburn, with her hand still protectingly in his, spoke: "What that man has just said is a lie!" Hutton looked up, went deadly white and reeled as he saw the two elderly men. The crowd drew a united breath and stood straighter, looking relieved.
Reyburn stoop over Lilian's hand as he said good-night stoop low, and press his lips upon its dimpled back.
As Lilian looked upon this dazzling picture, backed by the golden and rosy sky, the golden and rosy waters, the palm-plumes tossing in the purpling distance, the silver flashing of the oars, the quiver came again, and she gave the glass to Reyburn, who held it steadily till the boat was within hailing distance, and who himself at last handed the shining creature on board and led her to Lilian and her mother.
He had them on that morning. He took careful note of the name on the door: "Warren Reyburn, Attorney-at-Law," and the number. Then he slid down the stairs as unobserved as he had come, and made his way to a name and number on a bit of paper from his pocket which he consulted in the shelter of a doorway.
Reyburn leaned back in his chair and smiled at his unique client: "I shall have to quote your own language. 'What do you take me for?" "A white man!" said Jane suddenly, and showed all her fine teeth in an engaging smile. "Say, you're all right. Now, I gotta go. When will you tell me what you can do?" She glanced anxiously at her little leather-bound wrist watch.
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