“Let go my arm,” came in a husky gasp from his lips. “By what right do you compel me to remain where there is nothing but pain and sorrow, where all is cruel deceit, blackness and lies, while down there in the clear depths peace and rest await me?”
Owen retained his grasp while he looked the other full in the face. He saw it clearly now. The man was not intoxicated; he was sick. The eyes glowed feverishly from their hollow sockets, his cheeks were sunken, what were to be seen of them, for the lower part of his face was covered with a handsome flowing beard.
“You are sick,” said Owen, “and are raving.”
“Sick? Yes! Raving? Ha! ha! ha!” The wild weird laughter made Owen think he was confronting a madman. “So would you rave were the bloodhounds of the law hunting, dogging your every step.” Another chill crept over Owen. Was it a desperate criminal he had encountered? Had he made a mistake in attempting to interfere with the action of this stranger? Then again, when he looked closer, he did not believe it. By the bright light of the full moon the face before him showed not a single trace of what he would expect to find in the face of a criminal. Sick and delirious he might be, but nothing else. Speaking in an authoritative manner he said:
“Come with me. This is no place for you. I will see that you are taken home and cared for.”
“Home! Ha! ha! What a mockery the word is. I wonder if any one ever has known by experience what the word implies?”
Owen was beginning to feel the effects of the cold. Here by the water’s edge it was doubly keen and the standing still added still more to it. Once more he spoke. “Come, you can not stand here all night, and surely you have thought better of the rash action you contemplated. At any rate I shall not move from your side until you come with me.”
A bitter smile for a moment rested upon the bearded face of the stranger, then he said:
“Very well, some other time will do as well. Lead. I will follow, and then explain why on this night of all others, when the world is rejoicing over the birth of a redeemer I came so near seeking and finding a watery grave.”
Owen accompanied the staggering stranger to Seventh avenue where they had the good fortune to find a cab. Both men got in and were driven rapidly to the hotel where Owen was staying, arriving there just as the gray dawn was breaking. Having reached Owen’s rooms the stranger sank exhausted into a cushioned chair. Owen assisted him to disrobe and placed him on the couch where he was soon sleeping soundly, then stretched his tired limbs upon a lounge and in a little while he also was in the land of dreams.