the lost road-第71部分

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when　he　himself；　had　he　remained　in　the　service；　would　have　been
a　brigadier…general　the　aide　would　command　a　battle…ship。　　The
possible　future　of　the　young　sailor　filled　Swanson　with　honorable
envy　and　bitter　regret。　　With　all　his　soul　he　envied　him　the　right
to　look　his　fellow　man　in　the　eye；　his　right　to　die　for　his　country；
to　give　his　life；　should　it　be　required　of　him；　for　ninety　million
people；　for　a　flag。　　Swanson　saw　the　two　officers　dimly；　with　eyes
of　bitter　self…pity。　　He　was　dying；　but　he　was　not　dying　gloriously
for　a　flag。　　He　had　lost　the　right　to　die　for　it；　and　he　was　dying
because　he　had　lost　that　right。

The　sun　had　sunk　and　the　evening　had　grown　chill。　　At　the　wharf
where　the　steamer　lay　on　which　he　had　arrived；　but　on　which　he
was　not　to　depart；　the　electric　cargo　lights　were　already　burning。
But　for　what　Swanson　had　to　do　there　still　was　light　enough。
From　his　breast…pocket　he　took　the　card　on　which　he　had
written　his　message　to　his　brother　officers；　read　and　reread　it；
and　replaced　it。

Save　for　the　admiral　and　his　aide　at　the　steps　of　the　cottage；
and　a　bareheaded　bluejacket　who　was　reporting　to　them；　and　the
admiral's　orderly；　who　was　walking　toward　Swanson；　no　one　was
in　sight。　　Still　seated　upon　the　stringpiece　of　the　wharf；　Swanson
so　moved　that　his　back　was　toward　the　four　men。　　The　moment
seemed　propitious；　almost　as　though　it　had　been　prearranged。　　For
with　such　an　audience；　for　his　taking　off　no　other　person　could　be
blamed。　　There　would　be　no　question　but　that　death　had　been
self…inflicted。

Approaching　from　behind　him　Swanson　heard　the　brisk　steps　of　the
orderly　drawing　rapidly　nearer。　　He　wondered　if　the　wharf　were
government　property；　if　he　were　trespassing；　and　if　for　that　reason
the　man　had　been　sent　to　order　him　away。　　He　considered　bitterly
that　the　government　grudged　him　a　place　even　in　which　to　die。
Well；　he　would　not　for　long　be　a　trespasser。　　His　hand　slipped
into　his　pocket；　with　his　thumb　he　lowered　the　safety…catch　of
the　pistol。

But　the　hand　with　the　pistol　in　it　did　not　leave　his　pocket。　　The
steps　of　the　orderly　had　come　to　a　sudden　silence。　　Raising　his
head　heavily；　Swanson　saw　the　man；　with　his　eyes　fixed　upon　him；
standing　at　salute。　　They　had　first　made　his　life　unsupportable；
Swanson　thought；　now　they　would　not　let　him　leave　it。

〃Captain　Swanson；　sir？〃　asked　the　orderly。

Swanson　did　not　speak　or　move。

〃The　admiral's　compliments；　sir；〃　snapped　the　orderly；　〃and　will
the　captain　please　speak　with　him？〃

Still　Swanson　did　not　move。


He　felt　that　the　breaking…point　of　his　self…control　had　come。
This　impertinent　interruption；　this　thrusting　into　the　last　few
seconds　of　his　life　of　a　reminder　of　all　that　he　had　lost；　this
futile　postponement　of　his　end；　was　cruel；　unhuman；　unthinkable。
The　pistol　was　still　in　his　hand。　　He　had　but　to　draw　it　and
press　it　close；　and　before　the　marine　could　leap　upon　him　he
would　have　escaped。

From　behind；　approaching　hurriedly；　came　the　sound　of
impatient　footsteps。

The　orderly　stiffened　to　attention。　　〃The　admiral！〃　he　warned。

Twelve　years　of　discipline；　twelve　years　of　recognition　of　authority；
twelve　years　of　deference　to　superior　officers；　dragged　Swanson's
hand　from　his　pistol　and　lifted　him　to　his　feet。　　As　he　turned；
Admiral　Preble；　the　aide；　and　the　bareheaded　bluejacket　were
close　upon　him。　　The　admiral's　face　beamed；　his　eyes　were　young
with　pleasurable　excitement；　with　the　eagerness　of　a　boy　he　waved
aside　formal　greetings。

〃My　dear　Swanson；〃　he　cried；　〃I　assure　you　it's　a　most　astonishing；
most　curious　coincidence！　See　this　man？〃　He　flung　out　his　arm　at
the　bluejacket。　　〃He's　my　wireless　chief。　　He　was　wireless　operator
on　the　transport　that　took　you　to　Manila。　　When　you　came　in　here
this　afternoon　he　recognized　you。　　Half　an　hour　later　he　picks　up
a　messagepicks　it　up　two　thousand　miles　from　herefrom　San
FranciscoAssociated　Press　newsit　concerns　you；　that　is；　not
really　concerns　you；　but　I　thought；　we　thought〃…as　though
signalling　for　help；　the　admiral　glanced　unhappily　at　his　aide…
〃we　thought　you'd　like　to　know。　　Of　course；　to　us；〃　he　added
hastily；　〃it's　quite　superfluousquite　superfluous；　but〃

The　aide　coughed　apologetically。　　〃You　might　read；　sir；〃　he
suggested。

〃What？　Exactly！　Quite　so！〃　cried　the　admiral。

In　the　fading　light　he　held　close　to　his　eyes　a　piece　of　paper。

〃San　Francisco；　April　20；〃　he　read。　　〃Rueff；　first　sergeant；　shot
himself　here　to…day；　leaving　written　confession　theft　of　regimental
funds　for　which　Swanson；　captain；　lately　court…martialled。　　Money
found　intact　in　Rueff's　mattress。　　Innocence　of　Swanson　never
questioned；　but　dissatisfied　with　findings　of　court…martial　has
left　army。　　Brother　officers　making　every　effort　to　find　him　and
persuade　return。〃

The　admiral　sighed　happily。　　〃And　my　wife；〃　he　added；　with　an
impressiveness　that　was　intended　to　show　he　had　at　last　arrived
at　the　important　part　of　his　message；　〃says　you　are　to　stay　to
dinner。〃

Abruptly；　rudely；　Swanson　swung　upon　his　heel　and　turned　his　face
from　the　admiral。　　His　head　was　thrown　back；　his　arms　held　rigid
at　his　sides。　　In　slow；　deep　breaths；　like　one　who　had　been　dragged
from　drowning；　he　drank　in　the　salt；　chill　air。　　After　one　glance　the
four　men　also　turned；　and　in　the　falling　darkness　stood　staring　at
nothing；　and　no　one　spoke。

The　aide　was　the　first　to　break　the　silence。　　In　a　polite　tone；　as
though　he　were　continuing　a　conversation　which　had　not　been
interrupted；　he　addressed　the　admiral。　　〃Of　course；　Rueff's　written
confession　was　not　needed；〃　he　said。

〃His　shooting　himself　proved　that　he　was　guilty。〃

Swanson　started　as　though　across　his　naked　shoulders　the　aide　had
drawn　a　whip。

In　penitence　and　gratitude　he　raised　his　eyes　to　the　stars。　　High
above　his　head　the　strands　of　the　wireless；　swinging　from　the
towering　masts　like　the　strings　of　a　giant　Aeolian　harp；　were
swept　by　the　wind　from　the　ocean。　　To　Swanson　the　sighing　and
whispering　wires　sang　in　praise　and　thanksgiving。




THE　GOD　OF　COINCIDENCE



The　God　of　Coincidence　is　fortunate　in　possessing　innumerable
press　agents。　　They　have　made　the　length　of　his　arm　a　proverb。　　How
at　exactly　the　right　moment　he　extends　it　across　continents　and
drags　two　and　two　together；　thus　causing　four　to　result　where　but
for　him　sixes　and　sevens　would　have　obtained；　they　have　made
known　to　the　readers　of　all　of　our　best　magazines。　　For　instance；
Holworthy　is　leaving　for　the　Congo　to　find　a　cure　for　the　sleeping
sickness；　and　for　himself　any　sickness　from　which　one　is　warranted
never　to　wake　up。　　This　is　his　condition　because　the　beautiful
million…heiress　who　is　wintering　at　the　Alexander　Young　Hotel
in　Honolulu　has　refused　to　answer　his　letters；　cables；　and　appeals。

He　is　leaning　upon　the　rail　taking　his　last　neck…breaking　look　at
the　Woolworth　Building。　　The　going…ashore　bugle　has　sounded；
pocket…handkerchiefs　are　waving；　and　Joe　Hutton；　the　last　visitor
to　leave　the　ship；　is　at　the　gangway。

〃Good…by；　Holworthy！〃　he　calls。　　〃Where　do　you　keep　yourself？
Haven't　seen　you　at　the　club　in　a　year！〃

〃Haven't　been　there　in　a　yearnor　mean　to！〃　is　the　ungracious
reply　of　our　hero。

〃Then；　for　Heaven's　sake；〃　exclaims　Hutton；　〃send　some　one　to
take　your　mail　out　of　the　H　box！　Every　time　I　look　for　letters
I　wade　through　yours。〃

〃Tear　them　up！〃　calls　Holworthy。　　〃They're　bills。〃

Hutton　now　is　half…way　down　the　gangplank。

〃Then　your　creditors；〃　he　shouts　back；　〃must　all　live　at　the
Alexander　Young　Hotel　in　Honolulu！〃

That　night　an　express　train　shrieking　through　the　darkness
carried　with　it　toward　San　Francisco

In　this　how　evident　is　the　fine　Italian　hand　of　the　God　of
Coincidence！

Had　Hutton's　name　begun　with　an　M；　had　the　H　in　Hutton　been
silent；　had　he　not　carried　to　the　Mauretania　a　steamer　basket　for
his　rich　aunt；　had　he　not　resented　the　fact　that　since　Holworthy's
election　to　the　Van　Sturtevant　Club　he　had　ceased　to　visit　the
Grill　Cluba　cure　for　sleeping　sickness　might　have　been　discovered；
but　two　loving　hearts　never　would　have　been　reunited　and　that　story
would　not　have　been　written。

Or；　Mrs。　Montclair；　with　a　suit…case；　is　leaving　her　home　forever
to　join　handsome　Harry　Bellairs；　who　is　at　the　corner　with　a
racing…car　and　all　the　money　of　the　bank　of　which　he　has　been
cashier。　　As　the　guilty　woman　places　the　farewell　letter　against
the　pin…cushion　where　her　husband　will　be　sure　to　find　it；　her
infant　son　turns　in　his　sleep　and　jabs　himself　with　a　pin。　　His
howl　of　anguish　resembles　that　of　a　puppy　on　a　moonlight　night。
The　mother　recognizes　her　master's　voice。　　She　believes　her　child
dying；　flies　to　the　bedside；　tears　up　the　letter；　unpacks　the　suit…case。
The　next　morning　at　breakfast　her　husband；　reading　the　newspaper；
exclaims　aloud：

〃Harry　Bellairs；〃　he　cries；　〃has　skipped　with　the　bank's　money！　I
always　told　you　he　was　not　a　man　you　ought　to　know。〃

〃His　manner　to　me；〃　she　says　severely；　〃always　was　that　of　a
perfect　gentleman。〃

Again　coincidence　gets　the　credit。　　Had　not　the　child　tossedhad
not　at　the　critical　moment　the　safety　pin　proved　untrue　to　the　man
who　invente