“Yes, doubtless, if my reasoning is correct. Not an Inca princess, but a princess of the reigning house of Spain.”
Haynerd could hold himself no longer, but rushed madly from the room and tore across town to the office of the Express.
Then came the white-enameled ambulance, dashing and careening to the doors of the building where Ames lay so quiet. Gently, silently, the great body was lifted and borne below. And then the chattering, gesticulating mob poured from the court room, from the halls and corridors, and out into the chill sunlight of the streets, where they formed anew into little groups, and went over again the dramatic events but a few minutes past.
Then, too, emerged Carmen, heavily veiled from the curious, 240 vulgar gaze of the rabble, and entered the waiting limousine, with the Beaubien and Hitt. Miss Wall and the gasping Jude followed in another. The judge had bidden the girl go on her own recognizance. The arrest at Avon; the matter of bail; all had merged into the excitement of the hour and been forgotten. Ketchim went out on Cass’s arm. The judge had ordered the clerk to enter an adjournment.
All that afternoon and far into the night a gaping, wondering concourse braved the cold and stood about the walk that led up to the little Beaubien cottage. Within, the curtains were drawn, and Sidney, Jude, and Miss Wall answered the calls that came incessantly over the telephone and to the doors. Sidney had not been in the court room, for Haynerd had left him at the editor’s desk in his own absence. But with the return of Haynerd the lad had hurried into a taxicab and commanded the chauffeur to drive madly to the Beaubien home. And once through the door, he clasped the beautiful girl in his arms and strained her to his breast.
“My sister!” he cried. “My own, my very own little sister! We only pretended before, didn’t we? But now––now, oh, God above! you really are my sister!”
The scarce comprehending girl drew his head down and kissed him. “Sidney,” she murmured, “the ways of God are past finding out!”
Aye, for again, as of old, He had chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; He had chosen the weak to confound the mighty; and the base things, and the things despised, had He used to bring to naught the things that are. And why? That no flesh might glory in His terrible presence!
“Carmen!” cried the excited boy. “Think what this means to our book!”