The Man from Jericho

by Edwin Carlile Litsey

What did it all amount to, he asked himself, wearily, when the love in his soul received no answering affection. Of what account were good deeds, if his own life was empty. His recent thrilling experience faded from his mind, and in its stead the sweetly alluring face of Julia came up before him. She was always with him now; waking, sleeping, reading, or during his professional calls. She had crept into his heart completely, and her coming had been wonderfully charming—unlike that other, which had thrilled him with a painful joy! The other was gone now. He felt that the awful hold had been shaken off at last—if only Julia had not treated him as she did that evening! Such things tend to throw a man back, but his hardly won battle had been too dear an experience for him to waver now. He would be strong, though the future were empty. He was facing the glass door giving onto the landing at the head of the stairway, sitting dejectedly by a small table whereon a lamp was burning. He had thrown off his coat and hat, for the atmosphere indoors was almost stifling. He did not think of seeking rest, for, though tired, he was not sleepy. It seemed to him that his affection for the Major's daughter had grown immeasurably since darkness had fallen. His thoughts had dwelt constantly upon her, and in his heart he had called her many tender names, and had imagined his lips upon her hair, and forehead, and cheeks, and mouth. He dropped his chin to his breast and closed his eyes, his forehead showing deep furrows beneath the straight black locks of overfalling hair. "Julia! Julia!" he said in his mind; "don't treat me this way! I have served you faithfully from the moment my eyes first saw you, and I have loved you almost as long. Believe me, little girl, and let me know that you care for me, that I may speak all that is in my heart. Julia! Julia!" Again and again the single word throbbed through his mind, as though an imperishable record was in his heart, and every beat thereof sent out the message on the current of his blood. What was that! He stopped breathing, but did not open his eyes. He felt that she was near him! All in a moment he knew that the cry of his heart had been answered. He heard steps, light steps, barely audible through the closed door. They came swiftly—tip-tip-tip-tip-tip-tip—up the stair—then silence.

He lifted his head and opened his eyes.

"Good God!" he cried, springing to his feet and overturning the chair in which he sat. Then grasping the small table with both hands he leaned across it and peered at the door, his face graying with each second that passed. She stood there, looking at him, such terror in her eyes that it made him tremble, absolutely fearless though he was. She wore a dark dress, and a dark veil was wound about her head, leaving the white oval of her face, with its terror-haunted eyes. The next moment she had entered the room and shut the door behind her, and was coming towards him like a sweet wraith. Yet he could say nothing. He had yearned for her and called her in his soul, and she was before him now! There were new lines upon his troubled face, for he could not understand. What could it mean? It was past midnight; between one and two o'clock, he knew. She was alone. These were his apartments. He slept in the one where they now stood. She stopped within arm's length, pale and scared, her large eyes burning with the burden of the secret she carried. She spoke first, hurriedly and low. The sound of her voice brought John to his senses.

"Has he come? Has he come?" she asked, in a half whisper, while the interlaced fingers over her breast writhed from the stress of her emotion.

"Dear Miss Julia!" responded Glenning, taking her by the arm, "pray be seated—but no, you must not stay here a moment! I—what is it? What is wrong?"

"Has he been here? Oh, tell me! Has anything happened?"

Glenning got into his coat as he answered.

"I have just come in. I went into the country after leaving you. Who is it? Marston again?"

A sob, half hysterical, struggled from the girl's throat.

"Yes—yes! He will come! He said he would! He's determined to kill you! Oh! I couldn't stand it!"