THE SEA-HAWK 1
Part Two By Rafael Sabatim.
V.___ —/
(Continued From Tenterdoy.)
CHAPTER XI.
The Truth.
The sun was dipping swiftly to the
world's rim when Sakr-el-Bahr with
his Nubians and his little retinue of
corsairs came to the gates of that
white house of ills on Its little emi
nencs outside the Bad-el-Oueb, and
beyond the walls of the city.
When Rosamund and Lionel,
brought in the wake of the corsair,
found themselves in the spacious
courtyard beyond the dark and nar
row entrance, the blue of the sky con
tained but the paling embers of the
dying day, and suddenly, sharply upon
the evening stillness, came a meud
dln's voice calling the faithful unto
prayer.
Slaves fetched water from the foun
tain that played in the middle of the
quadrangle and tossed aloft a slender
silvery spear of water to break into
i myriad gems and so shower, down
into tho broad marble basin. Sakr-el
Bahr washed, as did his followers,
and then he went down upon the
praying mat that had been set for
him, whilst his corsairs detached
their cloaks and -spread them upon
the ground to serve them in like
stead.
The Nubians turned the two slaves
about, lest their glances should defile
the orisons of the faithful, and left
them so, facing the wall and tho
grien gate that led into the garden
whence were wafted on the cooling
air the perfumes of jessamine and:
lavender. Through the laths of the
gate they might have caught a
glimpse of the color there, and they
might have seen the slaves arrested
by the Persian water wheel at which
they have been toiling and chanting
until the call to pray had come to
strike them into statues.
Sakr-el-Bahr rose from his devo
tions. uttered a sharp word of com
mand, and entered the house. The
Nubians followed him, urging their
captives before them up the narrow
stairs, and so brought them out upon
the terrace on the roof, that space
which in eastern houses Is devoted
to the women, but which no woman's
foot had ever trodden since this house
had been tenanted by Sakr-el-Bahr
(he wifeless.
This terrace, which was surrounded
by a parapet some four feet high,
cemmanded a view of the city strag
gling up the hillside to eastward from
the harbor and of the Island at the
end of the mole which had been so
laboriously built by the labor of Chris
tian slaves from the stones of the
ruined fortress—the Penon, \fhich
Kheyr-ed-Dln Barbarossa had wrested
from the Spaniards. The deepening
I shroud of evening was now upon all
transmuting white and yellow walls
alike to a pearly grayness. To west
ward stretched the fragrant gardens
of the house, where the doves were
murmuring fondly among the mulber
ries and lotus trees. Beyond it a val
ley wound its way between the shal
low hills, and from a pool fringed
with sedges and bullrushes above
which a great stork was majestically
sailing came the harsh croak of frogs.
An awning supported upon two
gigantic spears hung out from the
southern wall of the terrace which
rose to twice the height of that form
ing the pnrapet on its other three
sides. Under this was a divan and
silken cushions, and near it a small
Moorish table of ebony inlaid with
mother of pearl and gold. Over the
opposite parapet, where a lattice had
been set, rioted a trailing rose-tree
charged with , blood-red blossoms,
though now their colors were merged
into the all-encompassing grayness.
Here Lionel and Rosamund- looked
at each other in the dim light, their
faces gleaming ghostly each to each,
whilst the Nubians stood like twin
statues by the door that opened from
the stairhead.
The man groaned, and clasped bis
hands before him. The doublet which
hud been torn from him In the sok
had since been restored and temporar
ily repaired by a strand of palmetto
cord. But ho was woefully bedrag
gled. Yet his thoughts, if his first
words are to be taken as an indica
tion of them, were for Rosamund’s
condition rather than his own.
”0 God, that you should lie subject
ed to this!” he cried. "That you should
have suffered what you have suf
fered! The humiliation of it, the bar
barous cruelty! Oh!" He covered his
haggard face with his hands.
She touched him gently on the arm.
"What I have suffered is but a lit
tle thing," she said, and her voice
was wonderfully steady and soothing.
Have I not said that these Godol
phine’ were brave folk? Even their
women were held to have something
of the male spirit In their breasts;
and to this none can doubt that Rosa
mund now bore witness. "Do not pity
me, Lionel, for my sufferings are at an
end or very nearly." She smiled
strangely, the smile of exultation that
you may see upon the martyr’s face
in the hour of doom.
“How?” quoth he. in faint surprise.
“How?” she echoed. "Is there not
always a way to thrust aside life's
burden when it grows loo heavy
heavier than God would have us
hear?"
His only answer was a groan. In
deed, he had done little but groan In
all the hours they had spent together
since they were brought ashore from
the carack; and had the season per
mitted her so much reflection, she
might have considered that she had
found him singularly wanting during
those hours of stress when a man of
worth would have made some effort,
however desperate, to enhearten her
rather than rpinee upon his own
plight.
.Slaves entered bearing four enor
mous torches, which they set In Iron
sconces protruding from the wall of
the house. Thence they shed a lurid
ruddy glow upon the terrace. The
slaves departed again, and presently,
iu the black gap of the doorway be
tween the Nubians, a third figure
appeared unheralded. It was Sakr
el-Bahr.
He stood a moment at gaze, his
attitude haughty, his face expression
less; then slowly he advanced. He
was dressed In a short white caftan
that descended to hts knees, and was
caught about his waist in a shimmer
ing girdle of gold that quivered like
tire in the blow of the torches as he
moved. Ills arms from the elbow and
his legs from the knee were bare,
and his feet were shod with gold-em
broidered red Turkish slippers. He
wore a white turban decked by a
plume of osprey attached by a Jeweled
clasp.
He signed to the Nubians and they
vanished silently, leaving him alone
with Ids captives.
He Aiowed to Rosamund. "This, mis
tress," he said, "is to be your domain
henceforth, which is to treat you
more as wife than slave. For It is
to Muslim wives that the housetops
in Barliary are allotted. I hope you
like it."
Lionel staring at him out of a white
face, his conscience bidding him fear
the very worst, his imagination paint
ing a thousand horrid fates fof him
and turning him sick with dread,
shrank lack before his half-brother,
who scarce appeared to notice him
just then.
But Rosamund confronted him.
drawn to the full of her splendid
height, and if her face was pale, yet
it was as composed and calm as his
own; If her bosom rose and fell to be
tray her agitation, yet her glance was
contemptuous and defiant, her voice
calm and steady, when she answered
him with the question;
"What Is your Intent with me?”
"My intent?” said he, with a little
twisted smile. Yet for all that he be
lieved he hated her and sought to
hurt, to humble and to crush her, he
could not stifle his admiration of her
spirit's gallantry In such an hour as
this. I
New York
--Day by Day
By O. O. McINTYRK.
New York, May 20.—New Yorkers
are always expressing a yearn for
wide open spaces where men are men
and the plumbing is terrible. A few
more years and they are going to
pack the kitbag and be off. If all
went who announce their plan to do
so the Island would be deserted.
It Is considered smart to hold New
York lightly In contempt. "A big
city but cold hearted!” That Is the
lament. It Is one libel on New York
that should be debunked. The chil
liest greetings from strangers I ever
received were in small towns and the
so-called open spaces.
I have lied In wide places In the
road, villages where the trains
stopped (Ally on signal, fair sized
cities. large cities and New Yark
and for sympathy, charity and the
friendly hand clasp when It Is need
ed my vote goes to Manhattan is
land.
It is the friendliest place I know
toward the stranger. It has enough
faults, hut a lack of friendliness is
not one of them. When a man is
completely broke I know of no place
where he wilt he so well received as
New York. I know this from actual
experience.
It wIU rush and Jostle you about,
step on your toes and kick your
shins, but when the S. O. 8. of dis
tress goes up New* York will always
pause in Its rusli to extend the
friendly hand. It is the most be
nevolent city in the world In a pinch.
To lady in distress ora gentleman
on his uppers New Y’ork shdws the
heart and soul of a Vere (le Vere.
The other night in front of a small
hotel In the Forties a man reeled
across the eldewalk and slumped
down against an Iron spiked fence
thst guarded a cellarway.
He had been worsted by had liquor
and there was a frightful gash across
his temple. lie was semi-conscious.
New Y’ork was on Its way to the
theater. It stopped. A woman used
a fine scarf to stanch the flow of
blood. Another went after a pitcher
of water.
Still another woman In expensive
gown pillowed his head on her wrap.
Ha was a down and outer hut I
counted five persons who tucked bills
In his coat pocket before a clanging
ambulance eame and carried him
him away.
Alexander Wolcott, dramatlo critic,
appeared In a benefit performance
along with many of the prominent
stage stars recently. A group of ac
tors who had felt the wrath of Mr.
Woolcott’s pen were down front
and when the dramatic cyltlc ap
peared they hissed. Mr. Woolcott re
ferred to it In his review of the bene
fit performance In this fnahlcfti: "The
accoustlcs of the theater are pecu
liar, and when the curtain rose the
proper tribute from a doubtless Im
pressed audience was so contorted by
some aural Illusion that to those of
us on ths stage It sounded absurdly
like hissing.”
Twenty years age the side of the
Motel Aster was decupled by brown
stone rooming houses. The locality
was moribund and the liveliest fea
ture was a livery stable. In those
dujs the old Broadway theater was
considered too far uptown and when
Charles Frohmnn built the Umpire
below Forty-second street It was
called “Frohman's Folly." There
was scarcely an electric sign In
Times Bquars and nswspapers were
writing editorials saying that ths dis
trict should ba better lighted. Gun
men went on forays there and foot
pads wers busy.
The course of eating has also gone
northward. All the fine restaurants
clustered about Twenty-third street.
Now the best of them sr# in tli<‘
Fifties.
Nellie Heveli continues to retain
her sense of hutnor despite her long
invalidism. She remarks thst it
used to be ths fashion to' go through
dirt to get oil and now ws go through
•11 to get dirt.
(Copyright IIIU
From behind the hills peeped the
edge of the moon—a sickle of bur
nished copper.
"My intent Is not for you to ques
tion," he replied. "There was a time,
Rosamund, when in all the world you
had no slave more utter than was I.
Yourself in your heartlessness, and In
your lack of faith, you broke the gold
len fetters of that servitude. You’ll
find it less easy to break the shackles
I now impose upon you.”
She smiled her scorn and quiet con
fidence. He stepped close to her.
"You are my slave, do you under
stand?—bought in the market place
ns 1 might buy me a mule, a goat, or
a camel—and belonging to me body
and soul. You are my property, my
thing, my chattel, to use or abuse, to
cherish or break as suits my whim,
without a will that is not my will,
holding your very life at my good
pleasure. "
She recoiled a step before n dull
hatred that throbbed In his words,
before the evil mockery of his swarthy
bearded face.
"You beast!” she gasped
“So now you understand the bond
age Into which you are come In ex
change for the bondage which Is your
own wantonnees you dissolved.”
"May God forgive you," she panted.
"I thank you for that prayer," said
he. "May God forgive you no less."
And then from the background
came an inarticulate sound, a stran
gled, snarling sob from Lionel.
Sakr-ol Bahr turned slowly. He
eyed the fellow a moment In silence,
then he laughed.
"Ha! My sometime brother. A pret
Ity fellow, as God lives, is it not? Con
sider him, Rosamund. Behold how
gallantly misfortune U borne by this
pillar of manhood upon which you
would have leaned, hy this stalwart
husband of your choice. I>ook at
him! Look at this dear brother of
mine.”
Under the lash of that mocking
tontine Lionel's mood was stung to
anger where before It had held naught
but fear. __
"Ton are no brother of mine," h*
retorted fiercely. "Your mother ",i>
a wanton who betrayed my father.'
Sakr el Bnhr «iulyered a moment m
If ha had been struck. Yet he con
trolled himself.
(To He Continued Tomorrow.)
Just now the kettle could not ht
blamed for calling the Teapot black
—New Orleans States _
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/juSTA. MOMENT i l AMHrN,
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