< 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 tJNTVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 DAVIS 
 
( o 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
They say, lest men are moulded out of faults. 
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 By 
 
 J. A. Mitchell 
 
 Editor of Life, author of " Amos Judd" 
 " That First Affair," etc. 
 
 New York 
 
 Charles Scribner's Sons 
 1897 
 
 LIBRARY 
 TTMTVRRSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
Copyright, 1897, 
 BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS. 
 
 JOHN WILSON AND SON CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A. 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 i 
 
 Staten Island, in the garden before 
 a modest cottage, a plump, sunburnt 
 little girl was sitting among the flowers. 
 
 Her companion, a doll of uncertain char 
 acter, whose champagne tresses and gaudy 
 attire betokened a career of Gallic levity, 
 or, at the very best, a purely fashionable 
 existence, appeared strikingly out of har 
 mony with her humble surroundings. This 
 pretentious effigy, face down across her 
 guardian's lap, was about to receive the pun 
 ishment we associate with that attitude, when 
 a voice from the road caused the uplifted 
 hand to pause in its descent. A horse and 
 buggy had stopped before the gate, and the 
 driver repeated his question. 
 
 " Does Mrs. Zabarelli live here ? " 
 " Yes, sir, but she 's not at home." 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 ct You expect her soon, don't you ? " 
 u Yes, sir, I guess so. At one o'clock." 
 The man climbed down from the vehicle, 
 hitched his horse, and entered the yard. He 
 wore a long linen duster buttoned from his 
 throat to his ankles, leaving nothing of the 
 other raiment visible except a white collar, 
 the tips of his trousers, a straw hat, and a pair 
 of russet shoes. His hair was gray, almost 
 white, hanging thick about his ears; and he 
 was very round-shouldered. Judging from 
 appearances he might have been either forty- 
 five or sixty years of age, his hair and figure 
 seeming more venerable than his face. He 
 was clean shaven, with thin lips, a rather 
 sharp nose, and a strong jaw. Altogether he 
 gave the impression of a conservative, inde 
 finable citizen, who could have passed for 
 anything from a book agent to the president 
 of a trust company. 
 
 The child had struggled to her feet, and, 
 as she stood regarding him, he stopped in 
 front of her, looked down, and smiled. She 
 returned the smile, and came a little nearer. 
 She found, as many others had found, a fas 
 cination in this person's eyes. They were 
 2 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 gray, and not remarkable except from their 
 excessive honesty. Under all conditions 
 they appeared sincere and frank; but when 
 the owner smiled, the soul behind seemed to 
 shine through and out, convincing you, in a 
 way you had never realized before, that 
 honesty transparent, immaculate, incor 
 ruptible honesty was, after all, the highest 
 human attribute. As these translucent orbs 
 beamed kindly upon the child, her young 
 heart, under their supernal influence, ex 
 panded with a trustful love. 
 
 " Are n't you afraid of the sun, out here 
 with no hat on ? " 
 
 No, sir ; I like it." 
 
 He took out his watch and held it a mo 
 ment, absorbed in a calculation. 
 
 " Did your mother say she would be back 
 by one o'clock ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 He appeared undecided, looking first to 
 ward the open door of the cottage, then over 
 the opposite fields to the harbor beyond, 
 where floated the craft of every nation. The 
 day was warm, but a gentle breeze from the 
 water somewhat tempered the heat; not 
 3 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 enough, however, to cool the rays of a blind 
 ing sun now directly overhead. The air 
 near the earth quivered beneath the scorching 
 light, and in this neglected garden stray bees 
 and humming-birds, drunk with heat .and 
 honey, reeled blindly to and fro. 
 
 The visitor's glance, drawn by the brilliant 
 colors, rested for a moment upon the preten 
 tious doll, now pressed with loving care 
 against its owner's stomach. Then, as if to 
 aid his reflections, he opened his mouth a 
 very little, drew in his lips, and slowly rubbed 
 his chin. Perhaps the temperature of the 
 garden hastened a decision, or it may have 
 been the nature of his errand, for, with 
 another smile to his young admirer, he turned 
 and walked into the house. 
 
 Although a diminutive and somewhat un 
 inviting room, the Zabarelli parlor at the 
 present moment proved a welcome refuge. 
 The air fluttered gently through the closed 
 blinds, and the subdued light, after the outer 
 glare, was soothing to the senses. This 
 room bore indications of modest comfort; 
 but the extreme simplicity of its furniture 
 strengthened the impression already given by 
 4 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 the exterior of the cottage that Poverty and 
 the Zabarellis were close companions. 
 
 When the stranger entered this parlor, he 
 seated himself upon a sofa at the further cor 
 ner, facing the door. The little girl, who had 
 followed close behind him, climbed into a 
 rocking-chair and began to rock, arranging, as 
 she did so, the skirts and head-gear of the 
 frivolous foreigner, all accompanied by co 
 quettish glances toward the visitor. But he 
 seemed absorbed in his own reflections. 
 
 A long silence was broken only by the voices 
 of birds from the neighboring trees, and by 
 the occasional whistle of a distant steamer, 
 hoarse and iron-throated, mingling with the 
 shrieks of officious tugs as they darted hither 
 and thither on their breathless, never ending 
 business. At last he turned toward her, and 
 again smiled pleasantly, an easy thing to do 
 as she was an attractive little person, whose 
 laughing eyes and plump cheeks seemed to 
 have brought some of the outer sunshine into 
 the sober parlor. Besides, he was fond of 
 children, and was himself a father. 
 
 " What is your name ? " he asked. 
 
 " Filippa Whitehouse Zabarelli." 
 5 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 "Whitehouse?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Whitehouse is not Italian." 
 
 " Of course it is n't ! " and she smiled as 
 if amused at his ignorance. " Whitehouse is 
 American. I am named Whitehouse after 
 my grandmamma." 
 
 " Oh, I see ! After your mother's mother? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Then your mother is not Italian ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! She is from Massachusetts." 
 
 " Ah, yes, I understand." 
 
 And he wondered if Mrs. Zabarelli's na 
 tionality would render his errand more diffi 
 cult. He feared it might. From his own 
 experience he was well aware of wide mental 
 variations between the New England woman 
 of Puritan descent and the Latin immigrant. 
 
 " Is that your father ? " he asked, pointing 
 to a large photograph that hung above the 
 mantel. 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 If this portrait was correct, Signor Udolfo 
 
 Zabarelli was a good-looking man who had 
 
 carried his nationality upon his face with 
 
 superfluous emphasis. Short, black, stiff hair 
 
 6 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 in aggressive abundance shot up from a low 
 forehead, and was trimmed like the bristles of 
 a brush or a hawthorn hedge in such 
 a way that the top of his head could assume 
 any shape desired by his barber. Alert eye 
 brows darting away from his nose at an up 
 ward angle gave a wide-awake expression 
 to a firm but amiable countenance. There 
 were indications of personal vanity of which 
 he obviously was not ashamed, and which he 
 took no pains to conceal. A diminutive, up 
 turned mustache and a little black tuft beneath 
 the lower lip completed the Italian effect. 
 
 The face seemed familiar to the visitor. 
 He was trying to remember where he had 
 seen it, when the little girl, who had stopped 
 rocking and was also regarding the portrait, 
 said in a lower voice, 
 
 " He only died a little while ago." 
 Then, after a pause, " My papa was very 
 famous. He was a great artist. Did you 
 ever see him ? " 
 
 The visitor shook his head. 
 " It was lovely to see him dance." 
 Dance ? Then he remembered. Yes, in 
 deed, he had seen him dance ; and then to 
 7 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 the daughter he described the father as he ap 
 peared upon the stage, how graceful he was, 
 and how light upon his feet ! His own head 
 used to swim to see Zabarelli spin like a top 
 for an indefinite period, on the very tips of 
 his toes, then stop with a jerk. And as he 
 stopped, facing the audience, he would bring 
 his fingers to his lips with a triumphant smile, 
 and throw kisses to the right and to the left. 
 
 His listener, as he spoke, slid down from 
 her rocking-chair and came over and stood 
 between his knees, a brown hand stroking 
 the linen duster ; and there was a happy 
 pride in the moist, upturned eyes as she 
 listened to these praises. 
 
 "Yes," she said in a subdued voice, with 
 a touch of awe; "and mamma says there 
 were ladies too, who danced about him, just 
 like fairies." 
 
 "Yes, just like fairies ;" and then he went 
 on and told of her father's agility and of his 
 wonderful effects, of his flying about the 
 stage, hither and thither, with tremendous 
 bounds, a lady of the ballet on either side. 
 And these ladies, when he seized them by 
 their waists, would spring high into the air, 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 and then, as he held them at arm's length 
 above his head, all a-quiver, like ethereal 
 spirits, with their fluffy skirts and legs of 
 dazzling pink, they would smile and wave 
 their gleaming arms, slowly revolving like 
 gorgeous lilies upon a sea of music. 
 
 Filippa, with wide-open eyes and parted lips, 
 was listening enraptured, and expected more. 
 
 " But it is three or four years since I have 
 seen him. Wasn't he ballet-master at the 
 opera, later ? " 
 
 " Yes ; Maestro di Ballo. Do you know 
 my uncle Guglielmo ? " 
 
 " Goolyelmo ? " 
 
 " Yes ; " and she continued as if repeating 
 a difficult lesson, " Guglielmo Onofredo 
 Travaggini Biffi Titinnio Zabarelli." 
 
 " Is that all one uncle ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and he is a dancer like papa. And 
 what do you think he says ? " 
 
 " I could n't guess." 
 
 u He says I may be a lady of the ballet, 
 too, if I am good and graceful." 
 
 The visitor could not restrain a smile as 
 he glanced down at the fat little figure, with 
 its voluminous waist and manifold rotundi- 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 ties. And in the wide, cheerful face he de 
 tected a faint resemblance to the portrait on 
 the wall. 
 
 " I have no doubt you will be good and 
 graceful, and you will become taller and 
 thinner as you get older, which will make it 
 easier for you to dance." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I shall be a beautiful lady : 
 like her ! " and she held aloft the doll, who 
 appeared, upon a closer acquaintance, even 
 more disreputable than before. 
 
 " No, I hope not ! " he exclaimed, regard 
 ing the showy personage, who, as their eyes 
 met, startled him by a prolonged and brazen 
 wink. This creature's eyes, originally de 
 signed to close when in a recumbent position, 
 had become impaired by careless usage or 
 by dissipation, and now moved independ 
 ently of one another, each by its own 
 mechanism, in a manner that could not fail 
 to aggravate any unfavorable impressions 
 already given. 
 
 " Why not ? " and the child looked up at 
 him with disapproval. " Her hair is real, and 
 her dress is silk ; just feel of it ! And look 
 at her shoes ! She " 
 10 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 As Filippa spoke, a door opened in the ad 
 joining room, toward the rear of the house, and 
 the visitor, as if startled, pushed her roughly 
 to one side and rose to his feet. She looked 
 up at him in surprise. He seemed to have 
 forgotten her presence, and was evidently dis 
 turbed. With three strides he crossed the 
 little room, and seated himself upon a chair 
 near the open door by which he had entered. 
 
 A woman's voice called, 
 
 " Filippa ! " 
 
 Filippa answered; but before she reached 
 the door Madame Zabarelli entered. 
 
 The visitor found himself in the presence of 
 a slight and rather pretty woman about thirty 
 years of age. She was clad in the deepest 
 mourning, and with her grave dark eyes, sen 
 sitive mouth, and rather prominent temples, 
 gave the impression of an exceedingly ear 
 nest person ; of one already familiar with the 
 darker side of life, who took all things seri 
 ously, and had tasted the bitter with the sweet. 
 
 Finding a stranger in her little parlor, she 
 
 stopped short in surprise ; but after returning 
 
 his ceremonious bow and the more effusive 
 
 greeting of Filippa, she motioned him to be 
 
 ii 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 seated and awaited his errand. With her 
 daughter standing by her side, she sat upon 
 the sofa he had just quitted, watching him 
 with expectant interest. For a moment he 
 hesitated, as if searching for suitable lan 
 guage. But his hesitation was brief. When 
 he spoke he smiled with fatherly benevolence 
 upon his listener, who felt, as she looked into 
 his truthful eyes, that she was in the presence 
 of one upon whose integrity, at least, she 
 could implicitly rely. 
 
 " I have come on a somewhat unusual 
 errand, Madame Zabarelli, but it is one that 
 need cause you no alarm. We merely de 
 sire, at the bank, to correct an oversight 
 before it can cause you annoyance." 
 
 Her face at once became anxious ; but 
 he raised a hand as if to allay any possible 
 uneasiness. 
 
 " Excuse my not introducing myself at the 
 outset. My name is Elijah Folsom ; I am one 
 of the directors of our bank, as you very likely 
 know." 
 
 She was not familiar with the names of the 
 directors, which ignorance she indicated by 
 an apologetic movement of the head. 
 12 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " Some skilful rascal," he went on, " has 
 palmed off upon our receiving teller over two 
 thousand dollars in counterfeit one hundred 
 dollar bills, and after making an examination, 
 about an hour ago, we fear some of them are 
 among the notes in your possession." 
 
 At this she arose in real alarm and began 
 to unbutton her jacket. In doing this she 
 loosened, unintentionally, a small gold chain 
 to which a locket was attached. 
 
 u Look out, mamma ! " cried Filippa. 
 " You are dropping your watch ! " 
 
 Thereupon Madame Zabarelli took from 
 her pocket a heavy gold watch, of a foreign 
 pattern, and laid it upon a little table by her 
 side. 
 
 u But do not worry, madam," he protested. 
 " If the bills are counterfeit, we shall make 
 them good to you, no matter how many." 
 
 But Madame Zabarelli was not to be com 
 posed so easily. The mere thought of coun 
 terfeit money was, in her mind, so closely 
 associated with crime and disaster that her 
 fingers hastily continued their work, until, 
 from the inner recesses of her waist, a roll of 
 bills was extracted. These she unfolded in 
 13 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 an agitated manner and placed in his hand. 
 He arose, and, standing near the doorway with 
 his back to the light, examined each note 
 carefully, yet with a certain rapidity. As he 
 came to the twelfth and last, he said, with a 
 smile, and a gentle shake of his head, 
 
 "It is wonderful how clever the rascals 
 are. Every one of these bills is a forgery." 
 
 Madame Zabarelli's face expressed the 
 most intense anxiety. But the eyes that met 
 her own were so calmly reassuring, so brim 
 ming with paternal support, encouragement, 
 and truth, that for a short moment she felt 
 a happy relief. Being a woman, however, 
 who gave thought to all things with tragic 
 seriousness, and knowing this money was the 
 last remnant of her husband's savings, the 
 only barrier between herself and absolute 
 poverty, her fears quickly returned. 
 
 " Shall I take them at once to the bank ? " 
 she inquired. 
 
 " Oh, no ! " and placing them as he spoke 
 in an inner pocket, he continued : " There is 
 no necessity for that. I am going there now 
 myself, and to-morrow when you call we will 
 have the good money ready for you. Or, if 
 P4 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 you prefer, we will send it here the first thing 
 to-morrow morning, or even this afternoon." 
 
 " But, sir, I could not sleep to-night feeling 
 this money, all I have in the world, was out 
 of my hands ! And something might happen 
 to you. I think you will understand my 
 feeling that I will take it to the bank my 
 self, and go at once." 
 
 u But this is not money," Mr. Folsom re 
 plied, taking up his hat. u These bogus bills 
 are of no value whatever." 
 
 u They are my only proofs of having been 
 paid by the bank in counterfeit money ! " she 
 exclaimed rapidly in a high, nervous voice. 
 
 He took a backward step into the hall, and 
 was plainly at a loss for an answer. She ex 
 tended her hand, and exclaimed in a more 
 positive tone, 
 
 " I demand those bills, sir ! They are 
 mine, and it's for me to decide what becomes 
 of them ! " 
 
 " Do not make a scene, madame," he an 
 swered, still backing toward the front door. 
 " I assure you there is no need of it." 
 
 But his paternal manner had departed. 
 She saw that he meant to keep the money, 
 15 
 
Gloria Victis ~ 
 
 and her anxiety turned swiftly to a hideous 
 fear. This fear, however, while it blanched 
 her cheeks and caused her eyes to dilate in a 
 sudden horror, gave the force to act upon a 
 quick resolve. 
 
 " I will call the neighbors, and we shall 
 see ! " 
 
 But Mr. Folsom was between herself and 
 the outer door. Being a woman of spirit and 
 decision, and determined to run no risks, she 
 turned to her daughter, pointed toward the 
 rear of the house, and cried, 
 
 " Run, Filippa, and tell Mr. Kendrick to 
 come as fast as he can ! Quick ! " 
 
 At this Mr. Folsom stepped hastily into the 
 room. Madame Zabarelli shrunk back with 
 an exclamation of horror, as he drew a re 
 volver from an inner pocket and pointed it 
 toward the child. The click of the hammer, 
 as he cocked the weapon, seemed the voice 
 of death. Filippa had started for the door, 
 but her mother seized her by the arm and 
 thrust the child behind her. 
 
 " Are you a murderer ? " she whispered. 
 
 He lowered the weapon. 
 
 "I am whatever is necessary to avoid a 
 16 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 disturbance. "* If you care for your own life 
 or for that of your child, you will not leave 
 this house within an hour. Friends of mine 
 are watching between here and your next 
 neighbor. And they know what to do if 
 you try to raise an alarm. I wish you no 
 injury, but it rests entirely with yourself 
 whether this interview ends peaceably or 
 with bloodshed." 
 
 Madame Zabarelli was very pale ; her 
 breath came quickly, and she leaned for sup 
 port on the back of the nearest chair. His 
 story of the accomplices she believed. She 
 straightened up, pressed a hand against her 
 chest, and endeavored to be calm. 
 
 u Listen, sir, before you take that money. 
 It is all I have in the world. It is all that 
 is left of my husband's savings, of our ten 
 years of hard work, of all our economy. 
 Without it my child and I are paupers. 
 We have nothing, absolutely nothing. With 
 it I can buy an interest in a little business ; 
 but if you take it " here her voice trembled 
 and she seemed on the point of breaking 
 down ; then with a strong effort she con 
 tinued, " but if you take it we are turned 
 
 2 17 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 into the street, homeless, without a cent in 
 the world." 
 
 "Oh, that's all right," he interrupted. 
 " I am sorry, of course, but business is busi 
 ness j and now that you know me better, 
 don't be surprised if I add this to my collec 
 tion j " and with a step forward he lifted her 
 watch from the table. 
 
 u For Heaven's sake, leave me that ! " and 
 she thrust forth a trembling hand in protesta 
 tion. With the other she threw back the 
 long veil that had fallen before her eyes. 
 Then, with quivering lips and a torturing 
 effort to be calm, she went on in an agitated, 
 uneven voice, 
 
 " Leave me that watch ! It was my dead 
 husband's gift on our wedding day. To me 
 it is more than money. I I will send you 
 its value if I can earn it ; only " At this 
 point the tears came to her eyes and her 
 voice broke. 
 
 The watch was dropped into an outer 
 pocket of the voluminous duster; but as it 
 disappeared, Filippa, in an excited, angry 
 tone, cried out as she came between them : 
 
 " You are a wicked man to take that 
 18 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 watch ! What my mother says is true, and 
 you ought to be ashamed ! " 
 
 He looked down and smiled, but made no 
 sign of returning the watch. As he again 
 stepped toward the hall, Filippa, upon the 
 impulse of a sudden thought, began tugging 
 at one of her ringers. 
 
 " Here ! Take this ! It is a ring my 
 grandma gave me, and brings good luck to 
 whoever wears it. Inside it says, ' God 
 Bless the Wearer.' You take it and leave 
 the watch ; " and reaching high up above her 
 head she thrust the ring toward him. He 
 took it, and, pushing aside the winding of 
 thread that had been adjusted to fit Filippa's 
 finger, he examined the inscription, 
 
 To F. W. Z. God Bless the Wearer. 
 
 "Well," he answered with a ceremoni 
 ous bow, looking down upon the upturned, 
 angry eyes, half threatening, half entreating, 
 u I cannot refuse an offer from such a fierce 
 little lady;" and he returned the watch to 
 Madame Zabarelli, who seized it with eager 
 fingers. 
 
 " And now," he continued, with a respect- 
 '9 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 ful salutation, first to the mother and then to 
 the child, " you must excuse me if I go. 
 And remember my advice about leaving the 
 house within an hour." 
 
 He turned, put on his hat, walked calmly 
 out of the cottage and through the yard, un 
 hitched his horse, climbed into the buggy, and 
 drove briskly toward the town. Filippa stood 
 in the doorway as he departed, watching him 
 with sorrowful eyes. To lose her ring was 
 a calamity, but it was a heavier blow that so 
 nice a gentleman should turn out so badly. 
 
 Her mother, pale, faint, with trembling 
 limbs, dropped upon the nearest chair, and 
 buried her face in her hands. In another 
 moment, however, she started to her feet, 
 throwing back the heavy veil that had 
 fallen about her cheeks. It occurred to her 
 that the robber, from his pointing along the 
 road when speaking of her nearest neigh 
 bors, knew nothing of the back entrance to 
 the street behind. She consulted her watch. 
 There was nearly an hour before the next 
 ferry-boat left the island. She ran for Filippa's 
 hat, tied it hastily upon the child's head, and 
 without stopping to lock up the house, hur- 
 20 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 ried through the kitchen, across the field 
 behind, through the Kendricks' yard, and 
 was just in time to get a horse-car to the 
 town. 
 
 , She would catch him yet ! But, to her 
 flying spirit, it seemed that no earthly convey 
 ance ever moved so slowly. However, when 
 she stopped at the police headquarters there 
 was nearly half an hour to spare. Ten min 
 utes later the alarm had been given, and she, 
 with the superintendent himself, was at the 
 wharf as the boat came in. They saw that 
 no one went aboard before the arriving pas 
 sengers had landed ; then, in a shadowy cor 
 ner, they waited for the thief. 
 
 At that hour of the afternoon few people 
 left the island for the city, and the watchers' 
 task seemed easy. Of the dozen or more 
 persons who came down the wharf and 
 stepped aboard they saw no one who bore 
 enough resemblance to the bogus Folsom to 
 excite suspicion. Although the officer at her 
 side impressed upon her the necessity of mak 
 ing the greatest allowance for disguises, for 
 age, gait, and figure ; for wigs, false beards, 
 for raiment, and even for expression, she 
 21 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 was positive that none who passed her could 
 have impersonated the man she sought. 
 
 She scrutinized briefly and with little interest 
 a man of thirty-five or forty, with short brown 
 hair and erect figure, clad in a stylish suit of 
 gray, who fanned himself with his hat as he 
 stepped aboard. His near-sighted squint in 
 peering through a pair of ill-fitting glasses 
 would alone have allayed suspicion, for it was 
 chiefly by Mr. Folsom's eyes that she was 
 sure of knowing him. 
 
 But if Madame Zabarelli could have opened 
 the little satchel this gentleman carried, her 
 interest would have been considerably quick 
 ened by the discovery of a loaded revolver, a 
 linen duster, and a gray wig. 
 
 22 
 
II 
 
 VX 7HEN this much desired traveller reached 
 the city, he climbed the stairs of the 
 Elevated road and entered a Third Avenue 
 train. Had one been asked to indicate, among 
 the passengers in this car, those who from 
 physiognomy, manners, or apparel aroused a 
 suspicion of dishonesty, Mr. James Wads- 
 worth, alias Folsom, would not have figured 
 in the list. His eyes alone would have de 
 barred him from the competition. In man 
 ner he was dignified, reserved, and considerate 
 of others. His garments were fashionable, but 
 not showy ; and although his head and neck 
 were more suggestive of the " sport " than 
 the student, there was something about the 
 thin lips and clean-cut chin that recalled 
 familiar portraits of eminent divines. In 
 voice and language he appeared a cultivated 
 man, which was natural enough, as he had 
 received a liberal education and, for a brief 
 period, had studied for the ministry. This 
 was done under severe parental pressure, with 
 23 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 intent to counteract, if possible, certain un- 
 spiritual tendencies which had begun to alarm 
 his family. But while possessing in rare 
 perfection the voice and facial qualifications 
 for a holy calling, his moral machinery was 
 an amusing burlesque upon any such design ; 
 so much so that he was thoroughly aware of 
 it himself. And upon his father's death he 
 lost no time in rectifying the paternal error. 
 This he accomplished by removing to the 
 city and applying his unusual gifts to the dis 
 comfiture of his fellow-men. His successes 
 in these more congenial pastures were numer 
 ous, and, whenever possible, were obtained by 
 gentlemanly methods. Of course, in a career 
 where the law persists in opposing the will of 
 a resolute citizen, cases occur in which be 
 nevolence is inexpedient; but for these Mr. 
 Wads worth was always sorry. His sorrow, 
 however, never retarded his digestion or dis 
 turbed his sleep. 
 
 On this occasion, as he sat by the open 
 window of the car, he felt a sorrow that 
 Madame Zabarelli's inconsiderate perception 
 had prevented his securing her money in a 
 peaceful manner, as a director of the bank. 
 24 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 It meant that one more victim familiar with 
 his useful but compromising eyes was at 
 large in the world, and that one more danger 
 was forever before him. 
 
 At Fourteenth Street he left the train. 
 After an errand on Broadway he returned 
 toward the East side, along Twentieth Street. 
 When at Gramercy Park, he saw coming in 
 his direction, on the opposite side of the street 
 by the iron fence, a pedestrian who seemed 
 deep in thought. Mr. Wadsworth crossed 
 over and stood before him. 
 
 " How are you, Foss ? " he said. 
 
 u Hullo, Jim ! I 've just come from your 
 house." 
 
 Well, come back." 
 
 " No, I can tell you here ; " and he stepped 
 closer to the iron fence to make way for a 
 pair of baby carriages with their attendant 
 nurses. 
 
 Mr. Foster Graham was about fifty years 
 of age, short, slight, and somewhat sporty in 
 apparel. His dark skin appeared a little too 
 loose for the bones of his face, particularly 
 about the long, hard mouth, where it formed 
 deep creases from the nose to the chin. 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 There was something in the geography of 
 these lines that suggested a sense of humor, 
 although the habitual presence of a cigar, for 
 whose security the mouth was perpetually 
 elongated, may have increased this effect. 
 Mr. Graham's eyes were a light gray, and 
 they moved very slowly. Removing a freshly 
 lighted and exceedingly strong cigar from his 
 lips, he snapped away the ash and remarked : 
 
 u They are onto us." 
 
 Then he replaced the cigar and wriggled it 
 back into its corner, where it remained during 
 the rest of the interview. 
 
 Over Mr. Wadsworth's face came the faint 
 est indication of uneasiness, as he inquired : 
 
 " The watchman ? " 
 
 His companion answered by an affirmative 
 nod, and, turning about, faced the iron fence. 
 As the two men stood looking through the 
 railing upon the children who played upon 
 the grass within, Mr. Wadsworth tightened 
 his lips and drew a hand across his chin, as 
 Filippa had observed a few hours before. 
 But this time he was facing a far more dis 
 quieting possibility than his errand with 
 Madame Zabarelli was likely to create. Two 
 26 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 months before this interview, about three in 
 the morning, as these two friends were en 
 deavoring to open the safe of a prominent 
 financial institution in a certain New Jersey 
 town, they were surprised by the watchman 
 of the building. All details of the interview 
 were still a mystery ; but the discovery a few 
 hours later of the dying watchman with a 
 broken skull convinced his employers that he 
 had died in defence of their property. As he 
 left a wife and four children and was a gen 
 eral favorite with all who knew him, his 
 sudden decease had aroused considerable feel 
 ing. While the would-be robbers failed in 
 the real object of their visit, no public sym 
 pathy had thus far been expressed for them. 
 Although an exceptionally large reward was 
 offered for their persons, up to the present 
 moment Mr. Wadsworth had not worried 
 over the business, as he and his partner could 
 think of no evidence likely to be brought 
 against them. He always regretted violence ; 
 but in this case the responsibility rested, of 
 course, with the intruder. 
 
 "What is it?" he inquired. "What 
 have they got ? " 
 
 27 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " You remember the milkman we had to 
 ask about the trains ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Well, he 's a fly mug. He turns out to 
 be one of them smart people that see and 
 remember every damned thing that comes 
 within a mile of 'em." 
 
 " Could he describe us ? " 
 
 " Describe us ! There ain't a tooth in 
 yer mouth nor a button on yer clothes 
 under-clothes, too that he did n't make a 
 note of. God ! if I had known what a mil 
 lion-eyed rooster he was, I M 'a' given him 
 the whole State for leeway ! " 
 
 There was a silence, during which the two 
 men stood looking through the bars. Mr. 
 Wadsworth took off his hat and fanned 
 himself. 
 
 " What did he say of us ? " 
 
 " He said a lot. He sized me up from 
 head to heel. Hair, eyes, nose, wrinkles, 
 clothes, voice, teeth, finger-joints, cravat, 
 warts, buttons, chain, every damned thing that 
 a man can carry, he got ; and he got it 
 straight." 
 
 Here the creases at the unoccupied end of 
 28 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Mr. Graham's mouth formed themselves into 
 a smile, and with a twinkle in his eyes he 
 moved them slowly toward his companion. 
 
 "And his catchin' on to you would make 
 a hen laugh. He said the tallest man of the 
 two did n't look like a thief; he looked like 
 a lawyer, except his eyes were too honest. " 
 
 Mr. Wadsworth smiled, but the smile was 
 not gleeful. He remembered that yet another 
 description of his eyes was probably on its 
 way from Staten Island. His companion 
 added, 
 
 u Them optics '11 be the hangin' of you 
 yet, Jim. Better leave 'em home next time 
 you travel for yer health." 
 
 " I will. Where did you get all this ? " 
 
 " From Fatty Barr, straight. You know 
 he 's at headquarters, sort of a clerk, and he 
 copied off the testimony. But what puts a 
 move on me more 'n anything is that two 
 fellers came into Brennan's the other day, and 
 asked when I was most likely to be there ; and 
 as Brennan recognized one of 'em for the man 
 who spotted Ikey Turnbull last year, I ain't 
 likely to be there very regular just now." 
 
 " What 's your scheme, Foss ? " 
 29 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " To git. To-morrow morning I 'm on 
 the briny. I advise you to get a move on 
 you, too, and damn sudden." 
 
 Mr. Wadsworth appeared to be thinking, and 
 again drew in his lips and slowly rubbed his chin. 
 Turning his back to the fence, he said, 
 
 " I am hoping the next time we meet 
 there won't be so many iron bars just in 
 front of us. They hurt the view." 
 
 " Every time." 
 
 " Where are you going ? " 
 
 " To South America, and you 'd better join 
 the procession." 
 
 " Can't. I 've got a wife and boy on my 
 hands." 
 
 Mr. Graham laid a finger on his partner's 
 chest and said seriously, with a grave face : 
 
 u Now don't you linger, Jim. It 's gitt'n' 
 hotter every twenty minutes, and they're 
 likely to close in on you. Take my advice. 
 Better be a live man in Brazil than a dead 
 one in the bosom of yer family." 
 
 " Right you are ! I '11 settle up things and 
 light out. What 's your address down there ? " 
 
 Mr. Graham wrote three lines upon a 
 piece of paper and handed it to his friend. 
 30 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " Be sure and don't put my name on that ; 
 they might find it on you." 
 
 " You need n't worry. By the way, Foss, 
 it 's four hundred I owe you, is n't it ? " and 
 from an inner pocket he took out a roll of 
 crisp, new bills. 
 
 "Oh, that's all right. 'Tain't what I 
 went to your house for." 
 
 " I know it, but there 's a chance of our 
 not meeting again where money 's any good ; 
 and you might as well take it now." 
 
 " Thank you." 
 
 Then, as he noticed the roll was composed 
 of one-hundred-dollar notes, he added, 
 
 " Had a graft, I guess." 
 
 " Yes, but don't let on, as I had trouble in 
 fetching it and may hear from the job. It 
 comes in mighty well, though, for things look 
 as if I might need it. These sudden changes 
 are expensive." 
 
 With the side of his mouth that was away 
 from the cigar Mr. Graham smiled. 
 
 " It only proves there 's a Providence. God 
 looks out for his pet lambs." 
 
 Mr. Wadsworth also smiled, this time with 
 more enjoyment. 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " Yes," he said, " the Lord is generous if 
 you work him right, and when we get to Brazil 
 we '11 continue our labors in the vineyard." 
 
 Here Mr. Graham, without removing his 
 cigar, brought the tips of his ten fingers 
 together with a clerical gesture, and remarked 
 with pompous dignity, 
 
 " And I have long felt, Brother Wads- 
 worth, that the holy gospel should not be 
 withheld from the wealthy heathen." 
 
 Then with smiling faces they shook hands 
 and parted, not to meet again this side 
 the Styx. 
 
 As Mr. Wadsworth continued his home 
 ward journey, still to the eastward, his 
 thoughts were disquieting. He knew Foss 
 Graham too well to doubt the truth of the 
 information just received, and were it not for 
 his family, he would be on the open sea 
 to-night. But so sudden a departure needed 
 skilful explanations. 
 
 Passing through Stuyvesant Square, he 
 seated himself upon an empty bench to 
 decide on the style of fiction Mrs. Wadsworth 
 would be most likely to accept. His hat he 
 laid upon the seat beside him ; and soon the 
 32 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 cool shade, the rustling of the leaves above 
 his head, together with the voices of children 
 at their play, produced a soothing effect upon 
 nerves still calm and firm, but which had 
 already that day twice experienced a fatiguing 
 tension. 
 
 He might have floated off into a gentle 
 slumber were it not for the somewhat 
 stirring news he had just received. Even 
 a man of Mr. Wadsworth's temperament 
 finds it difficult to attain a perfect peace 
 of mind with the shadow of the gallows too 
 distinctly outlined across his path. His eyes 
 closed, however, and, as thus he reclined, the 
 outward effigy of a tranquil soul, his brain, of 
 a sudden, awoke in swift alarm, and all his 
 senses became painfully acute. Behind him 
 he heard stealthy footsteps upon the gravel 
 walk, of some one cautiously approaching. 
 Mr. Wadsworth was a man of swift resolves 
 and decisive action, but this time he felt the 
 game was up. He made no motion ; even 
 his eyes remained closed. The man behind 
 him, if the one he feared, was sure to be 
 armed, and sure to be accompanied by a 
 mate. They always came in pairs. And 
 3 33 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 when a hand fell heavily upon his shoulder, 
 an involuntary tremor shot up his spine and 
 died frigidly away among the nerves of his 
 scalp. If a passer-by had bent down and 
 peered close into his face, he might have seen 
 less color than usual about his lips ; but no 
 muscles moved. Judging from appearances, 
 his cherubic slumbers were undisturbed. In 
 wardly there was sudden despair. Before 
 him he saw a long trial with damning evi 
 dence and certain death, the death of a 
 common criminal, and he thought of his 
 wife and his boy ; but all was instantaneous, 
 a swift prophetic flash, like a knife through 
 a desperate heart. 
 
 But from this despair he was as swiftly 
 elevated to an ecstatic relief, and all by 
 another movement of the hand upon his 
 shoulder. It crept slowly toward his neck, 
 and fingers that he now recognized as those 
 of a child travelled playfully about his ears. 
 He yielded, however, to no nervous impulses, 
 for Mr. Wadsworth was a " dead game 
 sport." He was the last man to display out 
 ward symptoms of his inward joys or of 
 his tribulations. 
 
 34 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 u Steve," he said quietly. 
 
 " Did I scare you, pop ? " came in a 
 child's voice ; and a boy of ten stepped out 
 from behind the seat and stood before him. 
 
 Mr. Wadsworth smiled an affectionate wel 
 come into a pair of eyes exactly like his own. 
 They were fully as honest, even more so if 
 possible, bearing the same glad tidings of a 
 soul overladen with truth, from which the 
 Heaven-born light, pure and invigorating, 
 shed forth support and guidance for less im 
 maculate mortals. Like his father, these eyes 
 were his striking feature; otherwise his face 
 bore nothing unusual to impress a stranger. 
 He had the fresh, wholesome complexion of 
 those who are fond of exercise and whose 
 digestions are friendly. 
 
 When he smiled, and his smile came easily 
 as from an open nature, the honest eyes joined 
 in and formed an irresistible harmony. In 
 the presence of such a combination prolonged 
 hostility, or even suspicion, was impossible. 
 The smile possessed an inviting quality, creat 
 ing in the beholder a strong desire for further 
 and more intimate relations with its owner. 
 This inheritance, so successfully transmitted 
 35 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 from the father to the son, was of priceless 
 value to one ordained, by instinct and by edu 
 cation, for the beguilement and circumvention 
 of his fellow creatures. It might appear that a 
 compensating Providence had bestowed these 
 efficient weapons in atonement for certain 
 moral deficiencies. 
 
 This boy had also inherited a splendid phy 
 sique. Erect, deep-chested, and broad-shoul 
 dered, he stood firmly on his feet, and had 
 already begun to have that solid look about 
 the legs and shoulders that we associate with 
 the professional gymnast. His straightness was 
 not from any effort of his own, but because the 
 compensating Providence had so constructed. 
 The expression of his face was cheerful and 
 alert, more responsive and sympathetic than 
 his father's ; less hard about the mouth, 
 and the lips were fuller and with gentler 
 curves. 
 
 Mr. Wadsworth regarded the figure before 
 him with grateful relief. And besides, he 
 was proud of his son. He was proud of his 
 strength, of his self-reliance and his pluck. 
 He knew him to possess qualities in which he 
 himself was deficient, some of which he ad- 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 mired ; others he did not fully understand, and 
 of these he was a little afraid. 
 
 " Did I scare you, pop ? " 
 
 " I nearly fainted." 
 
 The boy laughed, and laid a hand on his 
 father's knee. 
 
 u Well, you did n't know at first who it 
 was, anyway ! " 
 
 " No ; I thought it might be Queen 
 Victoria. But her fingers are cleaner than 
 yours, I 'm thinking. How did you bark your 
 knuckle ? " 
 
 The boy looked at his fist, then drew a hand 
 kerchief from his pocket and endeavored to 
 remove the stains. 
 
 "That's a nice, fresh-looking handker 
 chief," his father remarked. u Been wiping 
 up the street with it ? " 
 
 As the grime and gore were transferred 
 from the hand to the many-tinted cloth, one 
 or two small cuts were disclosed, which were 
 still bleeding. 
 
 " How did you do it ? " 
 
 As no answer came, it was evident to the 
 father, who knew his son, that the issue was 
 being dodged. With a frown he asked, 
 37 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " Been fighting again ? " 
 
 " No ; not a real fight." 
 
 " How was it ? " 
 
 " Over in the other square, a little while 
 ago. I was coming through, and saw a quarter 
 rolling along, right in the walk. When I 
 picked it up and shoved it in my pocket, the 
 little chap what was chasing it " 
 
 " Who was chasing it." 
 
 " who was chasing it, began to kick up 
 a row to have it back. He was a little dude, 
 dressed like a sailor, with long yellow hair;" 
 and on the narrator's face there came a smile 
 of contemptuous pity. " Just as I lit out to 
 get away from his yellin' a feller caught me 
 by the collar, behind. I twisted round, and 
 there was a sucker, that high, a grocer's boy, 
 with a basket;" and he held a hand about a 
 foot above his own head. 
 
 His father smiled. u Luck was against you 
 that time, old man." 
 
 " No, it was n't ! " said the boy, with a 
 slow twist of the head. " He told me to hand 
 back the quarter, and I said I wouldn't. 
 Then there was chinnin', but I did n't bull 
 doze for a cent, and he just hauled ofF and let 
 38 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 me have one between the eyes. But it did n't 
 hurt anybody. Then I plunked him three 
 or four peaches, one of 'em on the mouth, 
 and his teeth cut me. I left him sitting on 
 a seat trying to keep his face clean." 
 
 Mr. Wadsworth's impassive face gave no 
 outward sign of his pride in this achievement, 
 as he did not believe in too much fighting 
 either among boys or men. There was 
 nothing to gain by it. 
 
 "And you have spent the quarter already, 
 I suppose." 
 
 " No, sir ; not yet." 
 
 There was something in the manner of the 
 reply that suggested prevarication. 
 
 " Let 's see it." 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " The quarter." 
 
 The young athlete searched through every 
 pocket, then fixed the superlatively honest eyes 
 upon those of his parent, and exclaimed, 
 
 " Jiminy ! I 've lost it ! " 
 
 But the senior Wadsworth had known these 
 eyes from infancy. Besides, he had a similar 
 pair himself, and he was not deceived. 
 
 " Steve, is that whole yarn a fake ? " 
 39 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " No, pop ! straight and honest, it ain't." 
 
 " It is w'/, you mean." 
 
 "It isn't." 
 
 " Then where 's the quarter ? " 
 
 For a moment the youth looked half 
 ashamed. Then he made a reluctant confes 
 sion. 
 
 u Well, as long as I had licked the big 
 feller, and the little one felt so broke up over 
 it, I just gave his money back to him." 
 
 Mr. Wadsworth looked away and appeared 
 interested in a passing citizen. This was 
 not the first time his son had yielded to a 
 foolish sentiment and lost his hard-earned 
 gains. He could hardly scold him for it, and 
 yet such ideas, if they became a habit, must 
 of necessity be an obstacle to success. Steve 
 saw, as he anticipated, that he had dimmed 
 the glory of his victory. 
 
 Mr. Wadsworth rose to his feet and took 
 out his watch. 
 
 "Nearly five o'clock. We must be get 
 ting home." 
 
 As they walked away together, hand in 
 hand, out of the park and along an adjacent 
 street, the boy maintained a conversation 
 4 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 touching on many subjects, but in which his 
 companion took but a fitful interest. For 
 Mr. Wadsworth had much to think of. 
 There are many things to be adjusted before 
 a father can leave his home forever, espe 
 cially at sudden notice ; and in this case 
 there were outside complications not likely to 
 hamper the usual citizen. His wife caused 
 him more embarrassment at the present crisis 
 than any other features of the dilemma. He 
 was a good husband, and reasonably fond of 
 her ; and she was the mother of Steve, whom 
 he loved even better than himself; but he 
 anticipated trouble, not so much because of 
 her unvarying and unassailable selfishness, 
 but because, of all women who had thus far 
 come upon this earth, she was, in all human 
 probability, the most tempestuous and un 
 reasonable. 
 
 The Wadsworth home, on the ninth floor 
 of a pretentious but cheaply constructed 
 apartment house a short distance from Stuy- 
 vesant Square, consisted of a sitting-room, 
 two chambers, and a bath-room. The small 
 chamber was occupied by Steve, the larger 
 one by his parents. All were on the rear of 
 4 1 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 the building, looking south ; and the view 
 from the windows included the entire city to 
 the south, the rivers on the east and west, a 
 portion of the harbor, all of Brooklyn, and 
 the distant hills in New Jersey. The in 
 terior of the apartment was less inspiring. 
 In the sitting-room, plush furniture, cheaply 
 made and of showy colors, had become 
 shabby and uninviting. The carpet showed 
 a lighter shade in diverging paths around the 
 centre table, and in places near the window 
 the boards beneath were visible. Along cer 
 tain spaces of shelves and tables the dust was 
 undisturbed. A large gilt clock upon the 
 mantel had received a blow from some flying 
 object that had shattered its face and discour 
 aged its interior. The two chambers were 
 furnished in corresponding taste, and were 
 administered by the same housekeeper. 
 
 Upon entering the sitting-room and find 
 ing no one there, Mr. Wadsworth asked 
 Stephen if he happened to know where his 
 mother had gone. 
 
 " No ; only that she got on that car." 
 
 What car ? " 
 
 tt Why, the Second Avenue car/' 
 42 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 When ? " 
 
 " Why, pop, I told you on the way over 
 that I saw her getting on to a car about an 
 hour ago." 
 
 " I did n't hear you. Was she alone ? " 
 
 Steve turned his eyes away ; then, with a 
 side glance toward his father, shook his head 
 in the negative. 
 
 "Wallace?" 
 
 Steve bobbed his head. 
 
 Mr. Wadsworth muttered something, and 
 his face took an unpleasant expression. He 
 was a man who controlled his feelings ; and 
 as he tossed his hat upon a sofa and strode 
 into the adjoining chamber, Stephen knew 
 that his anger was deeper than it appeared. 
 Mr. Wallace, the leading tenor in a second- 
 rate theatre, was a person of neither beauty, 
 intelligence, nor physique ; but with hair and 
 voice he was lavishly endowed. His raven 
 locks, curly and somewhat longer than fash 
 ion required, excited no envy in other men, 
 but upon the female heart they took a power 
 ful hold. So also with his voice. Male 
 members of the audience waited in patient 
 silence until his song was finished, and were 
 43 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 happier when the end arrived ; but the av 
 erage woman hung with passionate thirst 
 upon his blatant, reedy notes, and yearned 
 to possess him. He appeared seriously in 
 love with Mrs. Wadsworth ; and as Mrs. 
 Wadsworth was certainly no stronger or 
 more discriminating than the average woman, 
 her husband had excellent reasons for becom 
 ing anxious. In vain he pointed out the 
 dangers of the situation. More than once 
 he had argued with her kindly and not in 
 anger, and she had promised to forego the 
 tenor; but the promise was hard to keep, 
 and Mr. Wadsworth became the victim of 
 some discouraging suspicions. 
 
 When he reappeared, some moments later, 
 in his shirt-sleeves, he returned the smile with 
 which Stephen greeted him. Seating himself 
 by the open window, he took a little gold 
 ring from his pocket. 
 
 " Here 's a present for you, Steve." 
 
 His son approached and leaned against 
 the paternal knees. 
 
 "A gold ring?" 
 
 " Yes, and one that will bring luck to 
 whoever wears it." 
 
 44 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 As he spoke, he was cutting with his 
 penknife the silken thread that had been 
 laboriously wound about it. 
 
 What 's all that thread for ? " 
 
 "To make it fit the one who owned it 
 before." 
 
 " He must have been a mighty small boy ! " 
 
 u It was n't a boy ; it was a girl." 
 
 " Did she give it to you ? " 
 
 Yes." 
 
 With the silk removed it was found to be 
 a perfect fit for Stephen's smallest finger. 
 He slipped it on and off, held it up at various 
 angles, and was pleased with his present. 
 He discovered the inscription along the inside 
 and read it aloud : " ' To F. W. Z. God 
 Bless the Wearer.' What does F. W. Z. 
 stand for, pop ? " 
 
 " Perhaps the initials of some other owner ; 
 but you wear it, and always keep it on your 
 finger. As you get bigger a jeweller can let 
 it out a little. Don't take it ofF any more 
 than you have to." 
 
 All right ; I '11 never take it off." 
 
 u And if your mother should notice and 
 ask about it, or want to take it in her hand, 
 45 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 why, tell her you can't get it off. Tell her 
 you found it in the street." 
 
 Before placing it finally on his finger, Steve 
 read again the loving legend. 
 
 " God '11 bless me right along, won't he ? 
 all the time I wear it ? " 
 
 Very likely." 
 
 " That '11 be a good thing. Won't it ? " 
 
 " I should think so." 
 
 " How does it work ? How '11 I be dif 
 ferent ? " 
 
 " It will bring you luck, and and make 
 you good." 
 
 The boy reflected. 
 
 " There 's no use in being too good." 
 
 " No, not in this world." 
 
Ill 
 
 AN hour later they still awaited Mrs. 
 ^ Wadsworth's return. It was half-past 
 six, and both were hungry. The father, sit 
 ting near the door, was looking over papers, 
 destroying those whose testimony he con 
 sidered dangerous. Upon the table before 
 him stood a bust, the size of life, of a famous 
 pugilist. This was done in plaster, but 
 smeared with an unpleasant tint suggesting 
 bronze : merely a suggestion, however, as no 
 one could be misled. Steve, the owner, now 
 lounging near the window absorbed in the biog 
 raphy of a distinguished train-robber, had won 
 it in a raffle, and valued it far above dollars. 
 
 At last a key was inserted in the outer 
 door; then a showy presence filled the room. 
 
 One glance at Stephen's mother would 
 explain the infatuation of many Wallaces. 
 A magnificent physical triumph, Mrs. Wads- 
 worth seemed more than enough to turn the 
 47 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 head of the diminutive tenor, a man with 
 neither length, breadth, nor digestion ; nor even 
 passable legs. Tall, and beautifully propor 
 tioned, she was also perfectly erect, with a 
 splendid carriage. This she had bequeathed 
 to Stephen, his best inheritance from his 
 mother. Her features were those of an 
 Olympian goddess ; her eyes were handsome. 
 In fact, nothing seemed forgotten in her 
 physical outfit. But she herself had lived 
 exclusively upon these gifts. Her expression 
 was neither amiable nor contented ; the roses 
 in her cheeks were painted by a heavier hand 
 than that of her Creator, and her hair was 
 that golden yellow which deceives no one but 
 the wearer. 
 
 As she stepped to the centre table and 
 removed an elaborate hat with crimson plumes, 
 her husband was reminded of Filippa's doll. 
 To a doubting spouse it was not a sooth 
 ing resemblance, and his face expressed his 
 thought. She caught the look, and remarked, 
 in the manner of one who has a chip upon 
 the shoulder, 
 
 " Well, what are you ugly about ? " 
 
 " I am not ugly, but it is pretty tough on 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 any man to have his wife stumping around 
 the town with a thing like Wallace." 
 
 She looked across the table into the mirror, 
 and, adjusting the yellow locks with hands that 
 glistened with enormous jewels, replied, with 
 assumed indifference, 
 
 " I don't know what you mean. I ain't 
 seen him for a week." 
 
 " You went off with him about three hours 
 ago in a Second Avenue car." 
 
 She appeared surprised, and her expression 
 became less indifferent. 
 
 " Did I, really ? " 
 
 "You did." J 
 
 " I thought you were the man who went 
 out of town to-day." 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " Then who told you that lie ? " and the 
 handsome eyes became hard as they turned 
 with an ominous glitter toward the boy at the 
 window. 
 
 " I saw you myself. " 
 
 " Then you got back in season to sneak 
 around after your wife for a while. " 
 
 Mr. Wadsworth made a strong effort to 
 control himself. 
 
 4 49 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 u Look here, Fanny," he said in a calm tone, 
 as he arose and stood facing her, " that 's a 
 poor bluff. You are bringing trouble on your 
 self and shame to the rest of us. That sort 
 of thing doesn't go down. You've got to 
 stop it right here." 
 
 She raised her chin and looked him coldly 
 in the face. 
 
 " You don't say so." 
 
 Mr. Wadsworth made another effort to 
 keep his temper j slowly, and in a harder 
 voice he answered, 
 
 " I do say so ; and this time I mean it. 
 I don't share my wife with any half-grown, 
 bleating, hairy freak." 
 
 At this epithet a change came over Mrs. 
 Wadsworth's face that caused her husband's 
 expression to turn swiftly from anger to 
 apprehension. It also brought Stephen to his 
 feet. This lady's tempers were more than 
 disastrous, they were destructive ; and when 
 they occurred all other business in her vicin 
 ity was hastily abandoned. But their vio 
 lence and their frequency had developed 
 a systematic treatment on the part of her 
 present companions which was applied not 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 only for their own preservation but for that 
 of the furniture. So, when her face became 
 suddenly a ghastly white, with no trace of 
 color save the two painted spots upon her 
 cheeks, and this pallor as swiftly drowned 
 in a crimson flush as though her blood were 
 bursting through the skin, then the father 
 exchanged a hasty glance with his son, and 
 both moved cautiously toward her, each from 
 his own end of the table. The woman be 
 fore them, insane for the time being from the 
 intensity of a resistless, unreasoning fury, 
 still retained the instincts of a beast at bay. 
 Seizing a roller skate that lay upon the table, 
 she hurled it with accurate aim and with 
 murderous force at the head of her approach 
 ing husband. He dodged it, and it struck 
 the noted pugilist full across the mouth, 
 smashing him into hopeless chaos. Quickly 
 she reached for the companion missile and 
 raised it aloft ; but before it could depart, 
 Mr. Wadsworth had sprung to her side and 
 seized both her wrists. Steve in the mean 
 time, and with equal promptness, dropped to 
 his knees at her feet, threw his arms about 
 the maternal legs, his face deep buried in her 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 skirt, and held her with an iron grip. Then 
 the husband and the son, with the ease and 
 precision that come from practice, brought 
 her gently to the floor. 
 
 She also had learned from experience : she 
 had learned, among other things, that against 
 these two athletes resistance was of no avail. 
 But her tongue was free. Mr. Wadsworth, 
 while holding her as gently as possible, became 
 the recipient of curses so emphatic, so varied, 
 and so ingeniously insulting as to have been 
 insupportable had they come from other lips. 
 But he was well aware that the woman who 
 uttered them had become an irresponsible 
 being ; a fact also recognized with filial sym 
 pathy by the son, although he clutched her 
 knees with an unyielding grip. 
 
 In two or three minutes, when safety per 
 mitted, Mr. Wadsworth loosened his hold, 
 Steve followed his example, the lady climbed 
 slowly to her feet, and the family relations, to 
 all appearance, continued as before. 
 
 It was a hard thing to live with, this temper, 
 and the day was one of sorrow for Mr. Wads- 
 worth when he first discovered what a cruel 
 heritage had fallen to his son. With all a 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 father's affection for an only child and for 
 this boy his love was greater than for himself 
 he endeavored by every means within his 
 knowledge at first to suppress, and finally to 
 reason with and to control these outbursts. 
 But the reward was meagre ; for the boy, al 
 though himself ashamed of and ever doing his 
 best to avert them, was powerless to conquer. 
 They overtook him, these spasms of fury, 
 not often, but with sufficient frequency to 
 reclaim their victim, and to show him that 
 human vigilance was of no avail. Between 
 himself and Mrs. Wadsworth, however, ex 
 isted an important distinction : the mother 
 after these attacks remained sullen and vin 
 dictive. With the son there was an eagerness 
 to make the fullest atonement. 
 
 Half an hour later, when they quitted the 
 apartment and walked to a neighboring res 
 taurant for dinner, no observer would have 
 presumed to suspect this stately and preten 
 tious female of her recent behavior. During 
 the meal she showed no signs of resentment, 
 and her amiability caused her two companions 
 not only an unwonted pleasure but a mild 
 surprise. This amiability was the result of a 
 53 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 swift decision. Behind loving smiles and 
 cheerful conversation she was perfecting a 
 plan by which to paralyze the wicked and 
 reward the virtuous, all by a single, sudden 
 action, splendidly dramatic in its irreparable 
 results. Her external sweetness was ably 
 maintained until the hour for action ; and 
 the hour for action was close at hand. 
 
 At the door of the apartment house Mr. 
 Wadsworth left them, saying it would be 
 late in the evening before he returned. He 
 noticed that his wife's expression was one of 
 unusual gentleness; and had his knowledge 
 of her character been less complete, he might 
 have laid it to affection, or, at least, to self- 
 forgetfulness. But, whatever the cause, it 
 was unfamiliar, and he recalled it later. 
 
 Upon entering the apartment Mrs. Wads- 
 worth, without removing her hat, went directly 
 to a desk and wrote a note. After sealing 
 and directing it, she came toward Steve, 
 who occupied his favorite perch at the 
 window, absorbed in the " Lives of Famous 
 Robbers." 
 
 "Steve, I want you to take this " 
 Then she hesitated, and, remembering his 
 54 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 fidelity to his father, decided that in this emer 
 gency he was not to be trusted. 
 
 " Ring for the elevator," she said in a 
 harder voice ; and she passed into the adjoin 
 ing chamber. 
 
 When the elevator arrived she herself took 
 out the note, and Steve heard her say to the 
 boy, 
 
 " Give this to a messenger at once, and 
 tell him he will get an extra quarter for a 
 quick answer." 
 
 In less than half an hour the answer came. 
 After reading it she turned to Stephen with 
 her sweetest smile, and inquired if he would 
 like to go to the theatre this evening. The 
 reply, as anticipated, was an emphatic affirma 
 tive. She placed a fifty-cent piece in his 
 hand, and told him to select his own perform 
 ance. He was surprised, but lost no time 
 in waiting, and at once departed, marvelling 
 at this uncommon but delightful exhibition 
 of a mother's love. 
 
 When he returned, three hours later, the 
 rooms were dark and silent. He stepped to 
 the doorway of her chamber and whispered, 
 
 " Ma." 
 
 55 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 No answer came. Then he spoke again 
 in a louder voice, but there was no response. 
 The voiceless gloom of the apartment seemed 
 a living thing, concealing some mysterious 
 calamity. But Stephen's nerves were not 
 of the kind that flutter. He struck a 
 match and lit the gas. Over the floor, upon 
 the bed and chairs, were scattered various 
 articles of woman's clothing, here a skirt 
 and there a hat, with occasional shoes and 
 undergarments ; bed clothes, pillows, news 
 papers, and empty hat-boxes. The bureau 
 drawers were open and empty ; the closet 
 doors were open, and the closets were empty. 
 The contents of the room had been thoroughly 
 overhauled. 
 
 He was puzzled, and for a moment sus 
 pected a robbery ; but where was his mother ? 
 Robbers could never take her away. Tucked 
 in the mirror above the bureau was a folded 
 paper. Going nearer, he read the address, 
 MR. JAMES WADSWORTH, in his mother's 
 writing. He pulled it out and opened it. 
 
 DEAR JIM, You and I don't hit it very well, 
 and I leave you for somebody who understands 
 me better, and you need n't try to follow me, be- 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 cause I shall be miles away from this town when 
 you read these lines. You can have Steve. I am 
 writing this in great haste ; so good-by from 
 
 FANNY WADSWORTH. 
 
 Steve read this twice, very slowly, for its 
 full significance was difficult to grasp. But 
 he finally understood. She had left dad and 
 him for Wallace ! Refolding the paper, he 
 tucked it in the frame of the mirror where 
 he had found it, then he walked back to the 
 sitting-room window, and, leaning over the 
 sill in his favorite position, looked out over 
 the sleeping city. It seemed vaster than ever, 
 and farther below him. 
 
 He took no interest in the rising moon or its 
 shimmering light upon the river to the east. 
 With indifferent eyes he gazed upon the silvery 
 flood that illumined the towering sentinels of 
 the Brooklyn Bridge, and touched in the far 
 obscurity, with familiar greeting, the watching 
 goddess in the harbor. Beyond these, and be 
 yond the limits of his vision, he tried to peer 
 into the darkness, wondering in which direc 
 tion his tempestuous parent had flown. And 
 he wondered if, in the city below, there were 
 57 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 many boys whose mothers had also run away. 
 Perhaps it was a common thing. He hoped 
 so. She was not a perfect mother, but he 
 recalled the kind things she had done for 
 him, making a gallant effort to forget the un 
 pleasant ones, to forget that she had never 
 given him the care and attention that other 
 boys seemed to get from their mothers ; that his 
 clothes were never mended unless the jani- 
 tress or a tailor saw to them ; and that more 
 than once she had punished him because she 
 was angry with his father. These things he 
 tried to forget, remembering only that she 
 was his mother, and that she was gone. 
 
 But it cut him to the heart that she should 
 give him up so easily. " You can have Steve." 
 The words were cruel, and he could not help 
 repeating them. 
 
 His eyes were moist as he left the window, 
 and they were still moist, some minutes later, 
 when, in a buttonless night-shirt, he threw 
 himself upon his bed. The night was warm, 
 too warm for sleep, and he felt like going out 
 into the streets and hunting for his father. 
 
 At one o'clock he was still awake, and he 
 heard a key in the door. Jumping from 
 58 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 bed, he ran out into the parlor to welcome 
 his remaining parent. 
 
 As Mr. Wadsworth entered the unlighted 
 room, he could barely distinguish the white 
 figure by the centre table. He stopped short 
 as Steve, in a solemn voice, announced, 
 
 " Ma 's gone ! She 's run off with Wallace." 
 
 It was too dark to see distinctly, but 
 Steve knew his father was compressing his 
 lips and drawing a hand across his mouth. 
 
 " She left a letter for you, sticking in the 
 mirror ; " and the white sleeve of a night 
 shirt pointed toward the chamber. 
 
 Into the next room walked father and son, 
 the latter sitting upon the edge of the bed, 
 crossing and uncrossing his bare legs as he 
 watched his sire with a sympathetic gaze, and 
 saw him turn up the light, then take the let 
 ter from its place and read it. Although he 
 knew this parent well, he was surprised to 
 see him receive such momentous tidings with 
 no change of expression. He merely drew 
 in his lips and passed a hand across his chin, 
 as usual when there was food for reflec 
 tion, and then quietly laid aside his coat 
 and vest and loosened his collar. 
 59 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Seating himself in a rocking-chair, he ques 
 tioned Steve for further information ; but there 
 was little to be learned. As his glance en 
 countered a jewel box, overturned and empty, 
 upon the bureau, he picked it up and mut 
 tered, with a mirthless smile upon his lips : 
 
 " The poor things won't realize heavily on 
 their jewelry." 
 
 Steve failed to comprehend ; but as the joke 
 on Wallace was evidently too good to be 
 suppressed, the father continued, 
 
 " When I gave your mother her engagement 
 ring, I was flush and I laid myself out on it. 
 It cost me two hundred dollars. I found ac 
 cidentally, a year or two after we were 
 married, that she had realized on the two- 
 hundred-dollar diamond, and substituted an 
 imitation. But she has never suspected that 
 I know it." 
 
 At this point Steve came over and stood 
 between his knees. 
 
 "Well, as your mother showed such a 
 preference for paste, I have given her several 
 handsome specimens of it since. Every 
 Christmas, New Year's, and on all her birth 
 days, she has received precious stones that 
 60 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 must aggregate, in her opinion, about three 
 thousand dollars. And I have made a point 
 of examining them carefully, now and then, 
 in her presence, all but the engagement ring, 
 to let her see that if any of them were 
 changed, I should be sure to discover it." 
 
 Laying his hand on the boy's shoulder, he 
 added, with an exultant twinkle in the super 
 latively honest eyes, 
 
 " If you ever run away with another man's 
 wife, Steve, and are counting on a nice little 
 fortune, I hope it won't pan out for less than 
 thirty dollars." 
 
 Although Steve had a poor opinion of Mr. 
 Wallace, his sympathies were too much with 
 his mother to permit a thorough enjoyment 
 of her defeat. 
 
 " But it 's hard on ma, ain't it ? " he asked. 
 
 " You mean, is n't it." 
 
 " Is n't it ? " 
 
 " Of course it is ; but if people " 
 
 A loud knock at the outer door brought 
 Mr. Wadsworth to his feet with a suddenness 
 that nearly sent Stephen to the floor. In sur 
 prise, the boy looked up at his father, and 
 saw that his eyes were turned savagely in the 
 61 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 direction of the sound, that his lips were 
 tightened and his hands clenched. Silently 
 and swiftly Mr. Wadsworth slipped on his 
 vest and coat, then tiptoed through the par 
 lor, and listened near the outer door. Steve 
 followed, and they heard a voice, of one man 
 speaking to another, in a muffled tone. As 
 silently as before, his father stepped back, 
 away from the door, toward the window, and, 
 resting a hand on each of Stephen's shoulders, 
 he bent down and said in a tone that no one 
 else should hear, 
 
 "Steve, they have got me, and you won't 
 see your dad again. I must go with them ; 
 there 's no help for it. And all because I am 
 a fool, the damnedest of all damned fools ; " 
 and he straightened up with an angry gesture. 
 
 " But, dad," whispered Steve, " ain't there 
 something I can do ? Can't I " Here a 
 knock louder than before was followed by a 
 heavy, impatient voice. 
 
 " Open the door, Mr. Wadsworth. We 
 know you are inside." 
 
 " Can't I get in the way, or something ? " 
 Steve went on. " I can do it, dad ! I can 
 do whatever you say ! " 
 62 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Mr. Wadsworth looked down at the mus 
 cular little figure in its airy garment, and it 
 brought an idea. His face brightened. 
 
 " Could you grab one of those men by the 
 legs, as you do your mother, and hold him 
 5ong enough for me to manage the other 
 chap ? " 
 
 "Yes! Yes! Easy!" 
 
 " If you can do that, Stevey, you '11 save 
 your father. Now, be sure and jump for the 
 one I point at in this way and go for 
 him just when I point. Is it understood ? " 
 
 "Yes," Steve whispered, "and I'll hang 
 till death." 
 
 His father touched his lips to his adherent's 
 cheek. " Go to Charley Myers every day, 
 you know him ? " 
 
 " Yes, the saloon." 
 
 " Go to him every day for a week, until" 
 here a series of knocks heavier than the 
 others was followed by threats of breaking 
 down the door "until you hear from me. 
 Now open the door; and keep close to the 
 man who first comes in." 
 
 It was skilfully planned ; but its execution 
 demanded presence of mind, some physical 
 
 63 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 strength, and unshrinking courage. Mr. 
 Wadsworth had participated in similar affairs, 
 and could rely upon himself; but his present 
 backer was as yet untried. However, as 
 Stephen in his snowy vestment strode calmly 
 toward the resounding door, he gave promise 
 of these essentials. 
 
 When he opened the door, a man of heavy 
 build, without waiting for any words, pushed 
 roughly by him into the dusky parlor. And 
 as he paused to get his bearings, the ghostly 
 figure that followed close upon his heels 
 moved swiftly to his front. 
 
 u jim Wadsworth, you are my prisoner." 
 Then the father, who had purposely lingered 
 in a shadowy corner, stepped out into the 
 room. 
 
 For answer, he raised an arm toward the 
 intruder, and with extended finger said 
 calmly in his usual tone, 
 
 " Jump." 
 
 Whereupon a swift, white movement 
 toward the officer's legs was followed by, 
 what seemed to the recipient, the locking of 
 iron clamps about his knees. At the same 
 instant Mr. Wadsworth darted by him, out 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 into the hall. The man, with an oath, 
 brought his fist against the side of Stephen's 
 head, a heavy blow. Then a second, and a 
 third. 
 
 Steve winced, and buried his face yet 
 deeper between the twisting legs. But he 
 tightened his grip. A revolver, a long and 
 heavy one, was snatched from a trouser's 
 pocket, held aloft by the barrel, and brought 
 down with savage force upon one of the arms 
 that kept this much needed officer from the 
 scuffle in the hall. 
 
 There was a cry of pain, involuntary but half 
 suppressed, and the fingers of that hand re 
 laxed. The broken arm hung useless from 
 the shoulder, and the big officer wrenched 
 himself away. 
 
 But Stephen was still in the fight. He was 
 there for victory or for annihilation. With a for 
 ward lurch, as the man turned about, he threw 
 his good arm about the nearest leg, below the 
 knee, and squeezed it hard against his head and 
 shoulder. And as he heard a cry for aid from 
 his father's adversary, he gripped the trouser 
 in his teeth, for he expected another blow, 
 and another blow might break another arm. 
 5 65 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 But his towering prisoner also heard the cry, 
 and with desperate fury again brought down 
 the heavy metal butt, this time regardless of re 
 sults. It landed on Stephen's skull. The head 
 drooped, all the muscles of the clinging body 
 relaxed, and the man rushed out into the hall. 
 
 He found his comrade stretched upon the 
 floor, bleeding and senseless. Leaning over the 
 baluster, he heard, far down, the squeak of slid 
 ing hands along the stair rail, and the sound as 
 of some one clearing a flight at a time, the feet 
 only touching the steps at distant intervals. 
 
 Straightening up and looking back into the 
 unlighted room, he sent a curse, emphatic 
 and comprehensive, to the silent victor now 
 motionless upon the carpet. 
 
 66 
 
IV 
 
 YX7ITH returning consciousness Steve 
 opened his eyes. He closed them, 
 however, in a painful effort to recall his pre 
 vious existence. At present he was lying upon 
 a bed in a spacious room, with other beds on 
 either side of him, and all were occupied. 
 A few persons moved silently about, mostly 
 women in gray, with white caps and white 
 aprons. In his struggle to remember what 
 could have happened to bring him here 
 without his knowledge, he started to sit 
 up, and discovered, in so doing, that his 
 left arm was encased in a hard, unwieldy 
 substance, and that all his muscles were 
 astonishingly weak. 
 
 One of the women in gray and white 
 approached his bedside and readjusted the 
 coverlet about his shoulders. Looking up 
 into the face that was bending over him, he 
 inquired, as returning memory revealed a 
 fragment of the past, 
 
 " Did dad get away ? " 
 67 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " Don't think about that now ; everything 
 is all right. Close your eyes and go to sleep 
 again." 
 
 u Did dad get away ? " he repeated in the 
 impatient tone of one who is not to be trifled 
 with. 
 
 It was a hard question for a nurse who 
 knew nothing of her patient's antecedents, 
 and she hesitated. 
 
 " Did you want him to get away ? " 
 
 " Of course I did ! " and into his feverish 
 face came a look which said plainer than words, 
 " What sort of a fool are you, anyway ? " 
 
 But she answered gently, with a soothing 
 hand upon his shoulder, 
 
 " Yes, he got away." 
 
 Her reward was a smile of triumphant joy, 
 accompanied by a sidelong, somewhat boast 
 ful movement of the bandaged head, convey 
 ing the impression that some honor was due 
 in a quarter not to be mentioned, and that 
 he, the wreck, knew more about it than he 
 cared to tell. But this was followed by a 
 more serious expression, as he added, with a 
 contraction of the eyebrows as in painful 
 effort to unravel a mystery, 
 68 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " I don't remember the last part of it." 
 
 " There 's nothing to worry about. Your 
 arm is all nicely set, and your head will soon 
 be as good as ever." 
 
 " My head ! Was that hurt ? " 
 
 " Yes, but in a few days it will be all 
 right again." 
 
 " Oh, I don't care now ; " and with a smile 
 upon his lips, he closed his eyes in that glori 
 fied contentment known only to the victor 
 in an up-hill fight. 
 
 It was some weeks later when he left the 
 hospital, in surprisingly good repair consider 
 ing the damage received. To his annoyance 
 he found himself an object of sympathy, as 
 his arm was to remain in its wrapping a few 
 days longer, and of course he was paler; 
 but that only intensified the honesty of his 
 eyes, and added to the general interest. 
 
 Although glad to be well again, his return 
 to what was formerly his home proved a 
 melancholy joy. The familiar rooms, with 
 their bird's-eye view over so much that had 
 always amused him, became now a depressing 
 reminder of his departed family. And these 
 suddenly vanished parents had made no pro- 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 vision for his nourishment. In the way of 
 money he had nothing. With his father's 
 relatives a comfortable and a permanent home 
 could be secured and without the asking ; but 
 sooner than accept it, he would have endured 
 with cheerful spirit every possible tribulation 
 of a roofless independence. Toward this 
 paternal grandfather, who would gladly have 
 assisted him, Stephen, since his earliest child 
 hood, had borne a violent prejudice. And 
 this prejudice extended to every member of 
 his grandfather's household. The boy had 
 made various visits to the homestead in Ver 
 mont before his father's career became so 
 frankly criminal that the family were com 
 pelled to close the door against him. 
 
 This grandfather a truthful, upright man, 
 who respected the law and went to church 
 on Sunday had endeavored to conduct his 
 family along the pathway of a reasonable 
 virtue. But for Stephen such an atmosphere 
 had no attraction. That he, as a boy, should 
 be punished for theft and falsehood when the 
 man who punished him was not the victim, 
 was an act of officious tyranny too gro 
 tesquely virtuous for his comprehension. He 
 70 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 remained firm in the belief that the great 
 majority of mankind were like himself and 
 his respected father ; that theft and falsehood 
 were the natural evidences of a higher in 
 telligence. His sense of justice being out 
 raged by these repeated and severe rebukes, 
 he not only hated, but he sincerely despised, 
 this miscomprehended and to him ab 
 normal grandfather. 
 
 His mother, so far as he knew, had never 
 possessed a relative. 
 
 During the first day of his return his 
 hospital breakfast sustained him, and without 
 serious discomfort ; but the next morning an 
 inward emptiness cried sharply for attention. 
 When he stepped forth into the street, his 
 stomach had become a yearning void. His 
 head, however, contained a brilliant scheme. 
 He would enter the restaurant which he and 
 his parents had often visited, tell the waiter 
 these parents would soon be along, order a 
 splendid breakfast, eat most of it himself, 
 then, with an affecting display of filial anxiety, 
 inform the proprietor of his fear for their 
 safety and, he hoped, walk safely out. It 
 happened, however, either by chance or from 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 a careless providence, that just at the right 
 moment, in front of a house along his route, 
 a gouty gentleman with a round face and gray 
 side-whiskers, emerged cautiously from a 
 hansom ; and, while supporting himself upon 
 a cane, tendered a five-dollar bill to the 
 driver. The driver shook his head, and ex 
 pressed regret at his inability to change it. 
 The gentleman, disappointed and somewhat 
 annoyed, and while deciding upon the least 
 troublesome course, was struck by the ap 
 pearance of our hero, who happened to be 
 passing. More truthful eyes he had never 
 seen ; and these eyes, in combination with 
 a pale face and one arm in a sling, became 
 saintlike in their innocence. 
 
 He stopped the boy, and as he looked down 
 at shorter range into the cool gray orbs that 
 met his own, he experienced a spiritual eleva 
 tion; his whole moral nature expanding, as 
 it were, under their ennobling influence. 
 Gazing into these translucent depths, he felt 
 a sense of shame at his own impurity ; and 
 when he asked the owner of these eyes if he 
 would run across to the apothecary at the 
 next corner and get the change for the bill, 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 he regretted the insignificance of the sum, 
 wishing it a hundred dollars instead of five, 
 that he might reward such exceptional honesty 
 by a more proportionate confidence. 
 
 " Yes, sir, of course ; but the surgeon says 
 I must n't run or jump with this arm." 
 
 " Oh, that 's all right ; only walk fast, and I 
 will see that you don't lose by it." 
 
 He turned, as the messenger departed, and 
 moved painfully across the sidewalk. Stephen's 
 first thought when he stepped out into the 
 street, going diagonally across toward the 
 apothecary's, was of the pleasure this money 
 could afford if converted into food. His 
 second thought, so closely allied to the first 
 as to form a part of it, consisted merely of a 
 quick resolve to elude the gouty gentleman 
 and retain the bill. In reaching this decision 
 there was no moral struggle. The good 
 angel who whispers to the would-be sinner 
 was not present on this occasion. That 
 angel and this boy had never met. 
 
 Before reaching the middle of the street 
 
 Steve had made a rapid survey of the field of 
 
 action and had formed a plan. When he 
 
 stepped upon the curbstone in front of the 
 
 73 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 druggist's, he saw by a backward glance that 
 the recent owner of the bill was still moving 
 painfully across the sidewalk, and that the 
 driver, whose back was toward him, had be 
 gun an absorbing operation upon the snapper 
 of his whip. 
 
 With a quicker gait he turned the corner, 
 stopped for another look, and then, being un 
 observed, he ran his fastest. His arm, he 
 knew, was safe unless he fell or struck it. 
 It was a short block, and he soon reached the 
 other avenue, where he slowed up, partly on 
 account of his arm, which a collision might 
 injure, and partly from the protection afforded 
 by the greater crowd. 
 
 For additional precaution he walked rapidly 
 a block or two, then, with an outward smile 
 and an inward peace, selected his restaurant. 
 The place he chose was one of the first he 
 came to, as the emptiness of his interior had 
 become a positive pain. This restaurant, 
 the width of an ordinary house, contained 
 rows of tables on either side, their ends against 
 the wall, each table seating four persons. At 
 one of these tables Stephen seated himself, and 
 gave his order. The order was unusually 
 74 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 comprehensive, and the waiter smiled as he 
 received it. 
 
 " That 's a big dinner, bub ; sure you want 
 to pay for all that ? " 
 
 The guest took a five-dollar bill from his 
 pocket and unfolded it in an off-hand manner. 
 
 " I guess it won't cost more 'n five dollars, 
 will it ? " 
 
 " No, that 's all right. But yer dead sure 
 yer can git away with all yer Ve ordered ? " 
 
 " Yes, and more too. And make it two 
 portions of steak." 
 
 " Which will yer have first ? " 
 
 " Bring it all at once ; " and he said to him 
 self, as the waiter departed, " It '11 be bully to 
 look at all the rest of it while I 'm eating." 
 
 When the feast was spread before him, he 
 gazed with intoxicated senses upon the throng 
 of dishes. No sunset sky ever poured into a 
 painter's soul one-half the beauty that came 
 to the yearning Stephen from the contempla 
 tion of his steak and fried potatoes ; from the 
 sausages, the omelette, the buckwheat cakes, 
 the oysters, the stewed tomatoes, the egg 
 plant, and the custard-pie. He began with 
 the custard-pie ; for now that he was his own 
 75 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 master, why not eat in the order that pleased 
 him best ? 
 
 Never before had he realized his full capa 
 city for pleasure. Hunger and food, a 
 combination for the gods ! And he was tast 
 ing it in its fulness. 
 
 After the custard-pie he ate the fried oys 
 ters; and the hollowness within began to 
 yield to a celestial calm that gladdened the 
 remotest corners of his soul. He looked 
 about upon the other diners, and his previous 
 hostility soon yielded to a friendly interest. 
 
 When he entered the restaurant, there were 
 many vacant seats, and thus far he had been 
 alone at his little table ; but as the last oysters 
 disappeared, the two opposite chairs were oc 
 cupied by fresh arrivals, a woman in black 
 and a little girl. As the woman seated her 
 self in front of Stephen, their glances met, and 
 the expression of her face underwent a sudden 
 change. She seemed surprised and even 
 startled. He felt uneasy. Could she be the 
 wife or sister of the man whose stolen dollars 
 he was so thoroughly enjoying ? And had 
 she recognized him ? With a frown he 
 shifted his glance to the little girl. In her 
 76 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 face also, as her eyes encountered his, came 
 a similar astonishment. He read on both 
 their faces what appeared an unwelcome rec 
 ognition. But the child made no effort to 
 conceal her surprise, and exclaimed in an 
 audible whisper, 
 
 "Why, mamma, his eyes are just like Mr. 
 Folsom's ! " 
 
 " Hush, Filippa ! " 
 
 But the mother's gaze, as if by a fascination 
 beyond her control, still clung to Stephen's 
 eyes. Her own eyes, naturally earnest and 
 somewhat intense in their expression, showed 
 at the present moment an unusual excitement. 
 Leaning slightly forward, and in an obvious 
 effort to assume a friendly manner, she said : 
 
 " Excuse me, but what is your name ? " 
 
 The suspicious youth, obeying an instinct 
 of self-preservation which had been abnor 
 mally sharpened by his own career and by his 
 father's life and teachings, answered, with easy 
 promptness, 
 
 "Henry." 
 
 " And your last name ? " 
 
 " Simmons." 
 
 She leaned back in her chair, disappointed. 
 77 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 The waiter took her order. It consisted merely 
 of one portion of soup, and bread and butter. 
 But the daughter, whose appetite was not in 
 harmony with such a meagre lunch, laid a hand 
 on her mother's arm, and, looking up into her 
 face, exclaimed in beseeching tones, 
 
 " Oh, mamma, have more than that ! 
 Have things like those ! " and she pointed 
 with the other hand to the riotous profusion 
 of their neighbor's dishes. 
 
 " Hush, darling. Wait until supper j then 
 you shall have more." 
 
 But on the mother's face came a look that 
 told how painful the denial. The child said 
 no more. Her eyes, however, were fixed 
 upon the array of steaming dishes with a 
 look that spoke plainly of an inward need. 
 The wide, cheerful little face had frequently 
 taken this expression since the sudden calam 
 ity which had driven her mother and herself 
 to the strictest economies. 
 
 The little scene was not lost upon Steve, 
 and he reflected. His reflections were broken 
 by another question from the persistent mother, 
 who inquired in a manner designed to avert 
 suspicion, 
 
 78 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " Does your father look like you ? " 
 
 But Steve's suspicions were of a character 
 not easily allayed. 
 
 " No, ma'am, not at all." 
 
 " What sort of a looking man is he ? " 
 
 While the wary youth was hesitating, un 
 certain as to which manner of lie would best 
 serve the purpose, a new arrival, just seating 
 himself at a table behind his questioner, un 
 consciously supplied him with material. 
 
 " He 's short and fat, with a big, red shiny 
 face, fat lips, and a funny nose." 
 
 With this answer her final hope departed. 
 She sighed, and relinquished the attack. And 
 this answer, as far as Stephen could judge, 
 seemed to soften her heart and bring a 
 friendly feeling, for she inquired and this 
 time in a voice that was honestly sympathetic 
 if he would not like her to cut his steak, 
 as he seemed helpless, only one of his hands 
 being available. He thanked her, and grate 
 fully accepted the assistance, while insisting, 
 in his turn, upon their partaking of the dish, 
 an offer declined by the parent, but accepted 
 with celerity and enthusiasm by the eager 
 daughter. And she devoured the steak with 
 79 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 a relish that brought a moisture to the 
 mother's eyes. The dispenser of this joy 
 was now experiencing that combination of 
 benevolence and superiority so satisfying to the 
 liberal giver. Pausing for a moment between 
 his final sausage and the buckwheat cakes, 
 he straightened up in his chair, and over his 
 exuberant breakfast sent a smile to the recip 
 ient of his bounty. She returned it with 
 interest, and expressed, by a nod, a hearty 
 appreciation of her blessings. Of the fried 
 potatoes she also partook, at his request, her 
 mother having ceased to object, as in the 
 presence of such lavish abundance there 
 seemed little danger that the host could 
 suffer from any reasonable diminution of 
 his store. 
 
 Out of a little black bag a sort of wallet 
 that she had previously laid upon the table, 
 the mother hurriedly drew a heavy gold watch, 
 but after studying it a moment, seemed to 
 decide there was no cause for hurry, and 
 replaced it. Steve wondered why such a 
 handsome watch should be without a chain. 
 There was once a chain, however, and it also 
 was of gold, but a week before it had been 
 80 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 exchanged, with other articles, for money to 
 purchase food. 
 
 Filippa, who became more and more 
 sociable under the influence of a hearty meal, 
 exclaimed with her customary enthusiasm, 
 
 " I had a gold ring just like yours ! " 
 
 Steve nodded ; but as no answer was re 
 quired, he continued with his cakes. 
 
 " But mine had an inscription in it." 
 
 u So has mine," he replied, bending for 
 ward as he spoke, and closing his lips over a 
 rapturous combination of cake and syrup. 
 
 " Really ? What does yours say ? " 
 
 His mouth was too crowded for an im 
 mediate answer; but Filippa could not wait, 
 and she continued, 
 
 " Mine had in it, written along the inside, 
 ' To F. W. Z.' Those are my initials, and 
 stand for Filippa Whitehouse Zabarelli. And 
 then, after that, it said, c God Bless the 
 Wearer.' " 
 
 For a second the boy stopped eating and 
 regarded her with a look of surprise. He 
 remembered the inscription well, and began 
 to wonder how his father got it. 
 
 " Yes," said Filippa ; and she nodded her 
 6 81 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 head, accepting his surprise as the natural 
 tribute to a bit of exciting news. 
 
 But the wily youth knew his own father, 
 and again drew on his armor. Turning his 
 eyes to the mother, he found she also was 
 watching him, but whether from a harmless 
 interest in the conversation or from fresh 
 doubts as to his rightful ownership of the 
 ring he could not discover. 
 
 The girl repeated her question, 
 "What does yours say ? " 
 " Mine says ' To Stephen,' but there is 
 nothing after that." 
 Who is Stephen ? " 
 
 " Why, me of course. It was given 
 to me." 
 
 Here the mother, in a voice that bore un 
 mistakable evidence of a renewed distrust, 
 said rapidly, 
 
 " But I thought you told me your name 
 was Henry ? " 
 
 There was a pause in which the hearty 
 eater seemed to have forgotten her presence. 
 He poured more syrup upon his cakes. 
 
 " You told me your name was Henry," 
 she repeated. 
 
 82 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " Well, a feller can have two names. I 
 know a boy that J s got four ! " 
 
 "Then your name is Stephen Henry- 
 Simmons ? " 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " And they call you Henry ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 And he looked her straight in the face with 
 a smile which, in combination with his eyes, 
 was accustomed to disarm suspicion. But in 
 this case the combination was a failure. Mrs. 
 Zabarelli had found that eyes the counterpart 
 of these could cover a heart too false for 
 human safety. 
 
 And there was something in the manner of 
 his answer that put a blight upon the good opin 
 ion she had been laboring to establish. During 
 the remainder of the meal she said no more to 
 him, and he was sensitive to the hostile atmos 
 phere. Filippa, however, chattered on at in 
 tervals until she had swallowed every morsel 
 of her steak ; and when they rose to go, she 
 thanked him, at her mother's suggestion, and 
 emphasized her gratitude by a courtesy. 
 
 This courtesy, elaborate and un-American 
 in character, in which perhaps she had been 
 
 83 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 drilled by her uncle, Signer Guglielmo Ono- 
 fredo Travaggini Biffi Titinnio Zabarelli, 
 was partially lost upon the recipient, who 
 sat low in his chair and whose own head 
 came not far above his breakfast. Filippa's 
 face, which was about on a level with the 
 table when she stood erect, disappeared en 
 tirely from his vision in the execution of the 
 movement. For an instant he thought she had 
 sat upon the floor; but as her friendly smile 
 came up again to view, he divined the motive 
 of the ceremony and nodded his acknowledg 
 ment. Her mother also thanked him politely, 
 but obviously from a sense of duty. 
 
 They had gone but a moment when Steve 
 detected, beneath a corner of a napkin, the 
 wallet that contained the watch. His eyes 
 brightened, and his heart beat faster with a 
 fresh excitement. 
 
 Here was a find ! The five dollars he now 
 possessed was as nothing to it ! What lots of 
 dollars such a watch would bring ! Through 
 his head came a swift procession of the joys 
 within his grasp. And he must hurry up and 
 get away before she should miss it and return. 
 
 But, along with this procession, came the 
 84 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 memory of Filippa, her hunger and her 
 cheerful little face. He recalled the niggardly 
 lunch she would have eaten if he, the rescuer, 
 had not been present. Steve frowned and bit 
 his lip at the thought of inviting a girl to 
 breakfast, securing her friendship, receiving 
 her thanks and courtesies, and then " swiping " 
 the family watch. 
 
 No ! not that ! He had no ambition to be 
 good, but there were limits. 
 
 Quickly he snatched the bag, and acting 
 upon an impulse of which he was secretly 
 ashamed and in whose duration he had little 
 confidence, he ran out of the restaurant, 
 overtook his new acquaintances on the side 
 walk, and returned the property. Filippa 
 greeted him with a cordial smile, while her 
 mother, with a sudden pallor, pressed a hand 
 to her heart, as she realized how narrow was 
 her escape from an irretrievable loss. Her 
 expressions of gratitude were effusive, and she 
 was ashamed of the wrong she had done him. 
 But he waited not for thanks, and hurried 
 back to his unfinished meal. 
 
 While mortified at having yielded to a 
 foolish impulse, his shame was tempered by 
 85 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 the knowledge that several of his favorite 
 heroes, men prominent in highway robbery, 
 in piracy, and in promiscuous crime, had 
 more than once, where women and children 
 were involved, been equally weak. And 
 there was another consolation : his father 
 would never know it. 
 
 On leaving the restaurant he experienced 
 a satisfying solidity in welcome contrast to 
 his recent emptiness. He felt more impor 
 tant. He was less suspicious, and he took 
 pride and pleasure in a brazen indifference as 
 to whether the former owner of the bill might 
 discover him or not. And Nature had been 
 so thorough in Steve's physical outfit that he 
 suffered no discomfort from the profusion and 
 complexity of his feast. 
 
 But later in the afternoon he encountered 
 signs of trouble against which his digestion 
 and his stolen money were of no avail. A 
 sheriff, with an auctioneer, was making a 
 list of the various objects that comprised his 
 home; and before they departed the janitor 
 showed the apartment to a couple of women 
 who, as prospective tenants, found it exactly 
 what they needed. 
 
 86 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Occupying his favorite perch, the parlor 
 window-seat, while the various invaders were 
 moving about from one chamber to another, 
 he leaned out and looked with mournful eyes 
 over the far-reaching city, with its glittering 
 river on either side, its unceasing hum, its 
 countless chimneys, its flags, its towers, and 
 its purple distance; all familiar, and all so 
 closely associated with his vanished parents 
 that unmanly tears obscured his vision, and 
 he drew a grimy knuckle across his eyes. It 
 seemed now another city, less his own and 
 not so friendly. A city that could swallow 
 up two parents in a single night was a thing 
 to be mistrusted. 
 
 And far below him he looked down upon 
 a group of children dancing about an organ- 
 grinder. Faintly he could hear the music, a 
 plaintive little tune, which so intensified his 
 loneliness that his knuckles were insufficient, 
 and he was compelled to draw a sleeve across 
 his cheek. 
 
 On the following day more people in 
 spected the apartment, and the preparations 
 for an auction were continued. That this 
 home was no longer his he realized with a 
 87 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 saddened spirit, but from those about him he 
 took every precaution to conceal his feelings. 
 
 A woman who occupied a lower apartment 
 of the building offered to adopt him, for the 
 present at least ; and another acquaintance of 
 his father, a man with no children, made a 
 similar offer. The janitor's wife suggested 
 an institution for orphans. 
 
 But Steve had plans of his own. The 
 thought of being adopted by a respectable 
 family and brought up in a respectable way 
 was in violation of every instinct of his being. 
 He had read several books, and his course of 
 reading, in which he had not been bothered 
 by his parents, consisted almost exclusively of 
 stories of adventure, of the lives and deeds of 
 famous pugilists, pirates, train-robbers, burglars, 
 and highwaymen j and now, fired by their ex 
 ample, and unhampered by parental authority, 
 he would leave school behind him and be a 
 man at once. Like many sons, he had made 
 a more careful study of his father than that 
 person had suspected. His knowledge of what 
 Mr. Wadsworth alluded to as his u business " 
 was of course somewhat undefined, but for 
 his father's character and methods, so far as 
 88 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 he could know them, his admiration was 
 unbounded. From association with this 
 parent and from a natural bent, Steve had 
 developed some clear ideas upon humanity, 
 and upon the world at large. Without de 
 fining this philosophy himself, he classified 
 mankind into two divisions, 
 
 Those who possessed wit and courage. 
 
 Those who were honest. 
 
 That the latter should be the prey of their 
 more interesting brethren was a conclusion 
 requiring no argument. For the honest ones, 
 the " suckers," he enjoyed an amiable but 
 distinct contempt, and he had no intention 
 of serving in their ranks. The police, of 
 course, were the natural enemies of progress. 
 
 In accordance with these beliefs he out 
 lined his own career, and decided upon im 
 mediate action. As a preliminary detail he 
 communed with Davey Knox. Davey's 
 tastes and moral outfit bore a dull resem 
 blance to his own, and they decided to see 
 the world together. While Davey was by 
 no means Steve's conception of a hero, he 
 was the only boy available. Steve knew him 
 to be a liar and a thief, both of which were 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 needed in the life before them ; he also knew 
 him to be a coward, and for this he despised 
 him. But in enterprises where virtue is a 
 hindrance, one must not be too punctilious as 
 to associates. 
 
 90 
 
HP HE glory of a perfect day descended as 
 with a special blessing upon a church 
 at Lynstock. This sanctuary, not a hundred 
 miles from New York, held the centre of a 
 faultless lawn, and was of simple but satisfy 
 ing architecture. The material was of ham 
 mered stone. Occupying the choicest site 
 in the choicest of New England villages, it 
 sheltered this August Sunday, as on other 
 Sundays, the choicest people. 
 
 Other sanctuaries, resorts of promiscuous 
 outsiders, were scattered along the village, all 
 of wood, old-fashioned and painted white, 
 with massive columns of a heathen pattern ; 
 but those who by especial purity had achieved 
 a closer friendship with the Lord were en 
 sconced in this Episcopal temple. Not only 
 were the worshippers themselves of finer clay, 
 but all their belongings gave token of a simi 
 lar excellence. Even the row of carriages 
 9 1 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 beneath the shadowing elms across the way 
 bore outward evidence of the loftiest aims. 
 In fact, a comparison of these blameless equi 
 pages with the cheaper vehicles about the 
 other shrines offered convincing testimony as 
 to which religion was the safest guide. 
 
 Within this temple the atmosphere was yet 
 more decorous. All stained glass, all mural 
 decorations, and other fittings were, like the 
 members of the congregation, expensively 
 quiet and in perfect taste. And the congre 
 gation, while comporting itself with the im- 
 pressiveness of a piety above reproach, gave 
 evidence of that satisfying holiness born only 
 of solid opulence and correct attire. Con 
 cerning the celestial prospects of those pres 
 ent, there was, if one could judge by 
 appearances, no cause for alarm. 
 
 The painted heads of the twelve apostles 
 above the pulpit bore a troubled air, as if 
 abashed by an unmerited patronage. They 
 suspected perhaps, this dozen common men, 
 the irony of their present elevation. They 
 may have compared it with their probable re 
 ception had they presented themselves in the 
 flesh at the mansions of the cautious worship- 
 92 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 pers in the pews below. The episcopacy of 
 these worshippers was the result of inheritance 
 and environment. Another and a different re 
 ligion, if indorsed by the proper persons, would 
 have been adopted with the same complacency 
 and maintained with the same decision. 
 
 Upon this occasion there were, as usual, 
 fewer men than women. Nearly every pew 
 was occupied, for the clergyman was a 
 preacher of distinction. He was a man about 
 fifty years of age, large of frame, with a mas 
 sive head and somewhat heavy features. In 
 his hair, carelessly arranged and obviously 
 with little heed from its owner, were shades 
 of gray. His skin, partly from exposure, was 
 brown and rather dark; his eyes were also 
 brown, and with their heavy lids and straight 
 eyebrows high above, gave an impression of 
 repose and strength. A certain awkwardness 
 of figure seemed intensified by the shortness of 
 neck and by a roundness about the shoulders. 
 
 He had been speaking in a general way of 
 the duties of life and of the obligations of 
 wealth, and he expressed himself with a clear 
 ness and decision that drove languor from the 
 eyelids of every Croesus in the church. If 
 93 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 there previously existed, in the minds of the 
 present congregation, any doubt or mystery 
 as to why the average millionaire, although 
 envied for his wealth, was not an object of 
 affection among the poor, he now removed 
 it. His language was not ambiguous. His 
 voice, rich, full, and finely modulated, held 
 the attention of every person in the building. 
 
 And the building had seldom been so 
 crowded. For Dr. Thorne was not only a 
 preacher of singular eloquence, but his life and 
 character had given him an exceptional posi 
 tion. Although a native of the town, and the 
 personal friend of many in the congregation, 
 he seldom occupied this pulpit. His own pas 
 torate, one of the richest and most influential 
 in New York, he had resigned the previous 
 winter, in the belief that he could be of greater 
 usefulness in other and quite different fields. 
 
 But this calling to account of millionaires 
 was incidental. It served, however, even if 
 its effects were temporary, to arouse the at 
 tention and disturb the peace of certain mem 
 bers of the congregation. For Dr. Thorne 
 knew his fellow-men, and he knew too well 
 that threats of future brimstone or guarantee 
 94 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 of heavenly recompense would never startle 
 Midas. 
 
 As the sermon proceeded, it became evi 
 dent, from the silence throughout the church 
 and from the vigilance of his listeners, that 
 something of more than ordinary interest was 
 before them. The older men were surprised, 
 and followed him with straining ears to be 
 sure they heard aright. The younger men 
 received his words in a similar spirit, but with 
 faces reflecting the earnestness and, at times, 
 the enthusiasm of the speaker. But every 
 woman, old or young, took in his words 
 with eager interest and with brightening eyes. 
 And this surprise and interest were augmented 
 by the knowledge that Dr. Thorne was not a 
 person of careless impulse or unconsidered 
 speech, but a man of large experience and 
 of sober judgment. 
 
 The remarks which were causing this un 
 wonted consideration related to the advent of 
 our Saviour. After asserting, not as a theo 
 logical deduction but as an authenticated fact, 
 that Christ had appeared upon the earth at 
 various epochs since the Crucifixion, he went 
 on to explain why such appearances were in 
 95 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 perfect harmony with His life and precepts, 
 and, if thoughtfully considered, need cause no 
 surprise. All who believed in the immor 
 tality of the soul believed that Christ, though 
 crucified, would ever remain a living entity. 
 And if this be true, he argued, it certainly is 
 not in accordance with our conception of His 
 character that during these centuries of hu 
 man doubt and human suffering He, whose 
 mission it was to console and guide, should 
 remain an indifferent observer. 
 
 u His life and teachings," he continued, 
 " were not those of one who holds himself 
 aloof, in frigid state, ignoring the prayers, the 
 hopes, the lives and deaths of countless mil 
 lions of his followers. Moreover, if sent 
 among us by a benevolent Creator upon so 
 stupendous a duty as the redemption of man 
 kind, such a duty, if begun in earnest, would 
 never be abandoned after one brief experi 
 ment, and at a time when three-quarters of 
 the earth was yet unpeopled. Were the 
 future millions yet unborn to rely, during 
 twenty centuries at least, upon translations 
 from an unspoken language, for a word from 
 their Redeemer ? " 
 
 96 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 He continued in calm but impressive tones : 
 " If Christ's spoken words, if His personality 
 or His living presence, are needful to those 
 wavering in their allegiance, if a sign will 
 save them, is that sign to be withheld ? If 
 we may believe His own words, He consid 
 ered faith of first importance. If we honestly 
 believe in His previous coming, why doubt 
 the coming of to-day ? " 
 
 Thus far the listeners throughout the 
 church had followed him with attentive in 
 terest. This interest became keener and 
 more alert when Dr. Thorne, with the calm 
 conviction of one who knows whereof he 
 speaks, declared that Christ had revisited this 
 earth not once, but many times, in our own 
 day, and here, in our own land, not in spirit 
 only, but bodily, as a fellow-man ; that He had 
 cheered the despairing, encouraged the weak, 
 and given life and hope to those whose bur 
 dens were greater than their strength. 
 
 And there swept through the congregation 
 a fresh emotion, as they received the state 
 ment that the speaker himself, if at liberty to 
 do so, could produce a witness, a personal friend 
 of many now before him, who had been this 
 7 97 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 very year in the presence of our Lord. 
 Moreover, this Presence was no illusion, nor 
 the dream of a man in sickness who mistook 
 for realities the products of his own imagina 
 tion. He had felt the touch of a soothing 
 hand, and received words from living lips 
 that turned the current of his life. 
 
 This announcement was received in solemn 
 silence. Not the rustle of a gown or the move 
 ment of a fan disturbed the stillness of the 
 church. But, as Dr. Thorne knew well, 
 there were many who would deny his testi 
 mony and deride his faith. Among these was 
 a gentleman of sixty or thereabouts, with 
 blooming face and serene expression, whose 
 speculative eyes and whose whiskers, snowy 
 but alert, gave hints of what he was, a per 
 son of importance. Leisurely he turned his 
 head and looked across the aisle. Meeting the 
 glance of another financial triumph, not unlike 
 himself in expression, in raiment, and in years, 
 he slowly raised his eyebrows, the fraction 
 of an inch, and in so doing conveyed dis 
 tinctly, as in words, his opinion of the parson. 
 
 But Dr. Thorne, in that respect, was under 
 no illusion. He was not making this effort 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 with any hope of penetrating the heart of 
 capital. Too well he knew and understood 
 the impregnable golden armor of certain mem 
 bers in this congregation. There were others, 
 however, who by recent affliction, by trials 
 beyond their force, or by a hopeless sorrow, 
 had come nearer the portals of that other 
 world; and to these, by look, by meaning, 
 and by brotherly compassion, he spoke, and 
 not in vain. 
 
 The sermon, calmly and impressively de 
 livered, proceeded to the end, and notwith 
 standing its purport brought conviction to 
 certain of its hearers. For to these there 
 was evidence of something more than theory 
 coming thus from one of large experience, 
 whose truth and honor were above reproach. 
 
 After the service certain friends and ac 
 quaintances remained, some to congratulate 
 him upon his sermon, others to ask a ques 
 tion or to express their regret at the rarity of 
 his visits. Most of them were women, rep 
 resenting various degrees of enthusiasm or of 
 religious fervor, or of curiosity and friendly 
 interest; but all, even those who fluttered 
 and gushed with a graceful excitement, were 
 99 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 self-possessed and faultless in attire. One 
 or two were patronizing, not with intent, but 
 from force of habit. 
 
 Dr. Thorne received this shower of words 
 with outward gratitude and with his usual 
 composure. This composure bore a faint 
 resemblance to that patience with which a 
 Saint Bernard allows kittens to scramble over 
 his back. They may tickle or annoy, but he 
 takes them for what they are. As to inquiries 
 concerning the subject of his sermon, he 
 turned them aside politely, but with decision, 
 replying, in answer to the most frequent 
 question, that the person referred to wished 
 no publicity. 
 
 There was another gentleman present who 
 also received attention, and from its quality 
 he appeared a person of distinction. More 
 over, he bore himself as one accustomed to 
 receive this sort of tribute. While more im 
 pressive in his manner than Dr. Thorne, it 
 was evident, nevertheless, that these atten 
 tions caused him far more pleasure than an 
 noyance. But this pleasure was suitably 
 repressed, and even stately. No human 
 being would have presumed upon it. 
 100 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 He was a bishop, not only by terrestrial 
 appointment, but, obviously, by design of his 
 Creator. He had the manner and expres 
 sion, the mouth and voice, the bearing, the 
 head and legs, and the cheerful gravity of a 
 bishop. No attribute was wanting. He was 
 of suitable height, erect, bald-headed, well nour 
 ished, and impressive. His features were regu 
 lar, and his honesty unquestioned. He was 
 intellectual, considerate, and always gracious. 
 
 Bishop Thorne, although at present on his 
 summer visit from his diocese in a neigh 
 boring State, was a native of Lynstock and 
 cousin of the doctor. They had played 
 together as boys, and knew each other well. 
 
 When the last lingerer had departed, leav 
 ing these two alone, standing together near 
 the pulpit, the bishop congratulated his cousin 
 upon the effect his eloquence had produced. 
 
 u That 's a splendid sermon, Will, and it 
 makes one regret more than ever your de 
 sertion of the pulpit." 
 
 " It was a false position." 
 
 u So you have said before, but you are too 
 punctilious. Your point of view is from too 
 dizzy an altitude. Give your conscience a 
 101 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 vacation and forget the creed. Our duty is 
 to the greatest number, not to ourselves." 
 
 Dr. Thorne turned his eyes with a side 
 long look toward the bishop, and asked, 
 
 " So you think it becoming in a follower 
 of Christ to occupy a pulpit whose creed he 
 outwardly accepts and inwardly denies ? " 
 
 The bishop turned partly away, and studied 
 the heads of the apostles. 
 
 " Your case is exceptional." 
 
 " But my life, nevertheless, would be a 
 living lie." 
 
 " It would be a most charitable lie and of 
 infinite value." 
 
 Dr. Thorne regarded his companion with 
 a friendly frown. 
 
 " Since when have you become a follower 
 of Ignatius ? " 
 
 " Not at all, but our endeavor should be 
 for the greatest good of the greatest number." 
 Here the bishop looked about and lowered 
 his voice. u If all of us who denied the creed 
 should desert the church, where would our 
 followers be ? " 
 
 " Where they ought to be, among the 
 followers of a simpler faith." 
 102 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 They moved toward the door, and the 
 bishop reiterated his argument. 
 
 " No," he said. " You are the victim of 
 an abnormal conscience. Your arguments 
 fail to justify your course. Such eloquence 
 as yours should not be wasted. It was not 
 given you to be buried. If you take our 
 Saviour as your model and I know you do 
 you should remember that in giving His 
 life to mankind He was influenced by no 
 details of creed." 
 
 Dr. Thorne stopped and confronted his 
 cousin. 
 
 u Do you think," he answered, slightly 
 raising his chin, and regarding the bishop 
 with a lowering of the heavy eyelids which 
 failed, however, to cover a gleam of irony 
 beneath " do you think that if our Sav 
 iour were alive to-day He would give His 
 time and energy to a select and fashionable 
 congregation of high-church Episcopalians ? " 
 
 Thoughtfully the bishop lowered his head, 
 then answered, 
 
 " No." 
 
 Along the village street they walked, Dr. 
 Thorne with a lunging gait, his head bent 
 103 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 forward and the heavy shoulders swinging as 
 if ploughing through a crowd. The bishop, 
 dignified, erect, immaculate, and evangelical, 
 avoided instinctively all inequalities of the 
 path, and stubbed his toes against no obstacles 
 in the way. 
 
 At the gate before a large, old-fashioned 
 residence they parted, Dr. Thorne continu 
 ing on his way, out into the open country 
 beyond the village. 
 
 The road took a wandering course be 
 tween fields and pastures, with patches of 
 wood at intervals, where the shade, on a day 
 like this, gave a welcome refuge. Heavily 
 but rapidly the pedestrian trudged along, and 
 the town was soon a mile behind him. To 
 his right were straggling woods and rocky 
 pastures with the Berkshire hills beyond. 
 
 But on his left the fields and smoother pas 
 tures sloped gently to a wooded valley, where 
 the eye could follow, along the tree-tops, the 
 meanderings of a water-course. Across this 
 valley, up the long sweep of open country, 
 there came to-day a refreshing breeze. 
 
 Our traveller halted by the way to gather 
 clover blossoms j and it was evident, by the 
 104 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 dexterity with which he bound them by a 
 blade of grass, that his huge fingers were no 
 strangers to the task. 
 
 His thoughts, as he gave the finishing 
 touches to this simple offering, went back 
 ward nearly thirty years to a period in which 
 a woman was the central figure of his life, 
 a slender woman, light-haired and frail, 
 with laughing lips, who loved this fragrance ; 
 and who, as they walked together, would 
 stop, and, standing still with eyes half closed, 
 inhale the clover-laden air and repeat for the 
 hundredth time, " How I love it ! " 
 
 And he, when returning from a walk, 
 always presented her with specimens of this 
 plant. 
 
 Their married life was short, six years or 
 less ; and now, with the clover to his lips, the 
 cool breeze against his cheeks, he lived again 
 the vanished years. 
 
 With a deep breath he looked up at the 
 sky, then over at the distant hills, and, turning 
 back into the road, he renewed his march. 
 
 Farther on, where a wood path joined the 
 highway, lay a curious little graveyard of the 
 type familiar to New England. Raised above 
 105 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 the road by a wall that served as a terrace, it 
 was partly hidden by a row of hemlocks. 
 Toward the entrance, along the wood path, 
 the doctor turned mechanically, as one famil 
 iar with the way. Ascending some granite 
 steps, rough hewn and forced asunder by a 
 century of frosts, where weeds and wild- 
 flowers in rank luxuriance filled the gaping 
 joints, he paused a moment in the shadow of 
 two weather-beaten hemlocks that stood, like 
 forgotten sentinels, on a thankless duty. He 
 pushed his hat from his brow, and the soft 
 breeze from the valley beat gently against his 
 face as he regarded, with friendly interest, two 
 scolding squirrels in the branches above who 
 appeared annoyed at this intrusion. 
 
 The quaint, uncared-for little cemetery 
 covered less than an acre. Youthful pines 
 and birches sprouted here and there among 
 the graves ; birds sang and fluttered in the 
 sunlight, perching upon the mossy headstones 
 as if no saddening thoughts held precedence 
 in that garden. Toward the centre, winding 
 among the graves and headstones, ran a nar 
 row path. The feet that made this path were 
 Dr. Thome's. 
 
 1 06 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Again he trod it to its termination beside 
 a grave, not unlike the others, but whose 
 headstone was less ancient than its neigh 
 bors. Here, a broken-hearted man, he had 
 laid his wife, more than twenty years ago. 
 
 Slowly, and with his usual clumsiness, he 
 lowered his bulky form and knelt beside the 
 mound. Two yellow butterflies, resplendent 
 in the summer sun, reeled carelessly away as 
 he removed a bunch of withered clover from 
 the grave and replaced it with the fresher one 
 of to-day. With some precision he arranged 
 his offering, and then, with downcast face and 
 dreaming eyes recalled distinctly as if yester 
 day for these memories, from frequent in 
 vitation, came willingly, as familiar friends 
 the last time he saw her face and heard 
 her voice. He had alighted from the buggy 
 at the little station at Lynstock, and as he 
 reached forward for his valise, she laid her 
 hand on his and whispered, with tearful 
 eyes, but with a smile half jesting, half sad, 
 " When you open this bag to-night, I shall 
 be inside." 
 
 And when, at a distant city, he unfolded a 
 certain garment for the night, he found in a 
 107 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 button-hole of the bosom a bunch of clover. 
 As he stood smiling, the welcome messengers 
 to his lips, there came a knock at the door 
 and he received the telegram which told him 
 the hands that plucked the flowers were for 
 ever still. 
 
 These scenes, and others similar, he had 
 lived so many times that his wife, beside 
 whose grave he knelt, had ever remained 
 not only an unfading memory, but a living 
 influence. Recollections which once had 
 crushed him with an unbearable regret had 
 now become a pleasure, a saddening pleas 
 ure, perhaps, but soothing 5 and a pleasure 
 of which he never tired. 
 
 From this journey into the past he was 
 suddenly recalled by a voice, sharp and im 
 perious, close beside him. 
 
 " Throw up your hands ! " 
 
 Startled, and still upon his knees, he turned 
 partially around, and confronted, within a yard 
 of his face, the muzzle of a revolver. Behind 
 this weapon, at arm's length, stood a boy 
 whose appearance presented so much that 
 was contradictory that the kneeling victim, 
 in the novelty of the situation, forgot his 
 108 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 danger. The robber, not a dozen years of 
 age, stood firmly upon his straddling legs, 
 with obvious intent to convey a terrifying 
 impression of ruthlessness and ferocity. 
 
 But there was something in his face, par 
 ticularly about the eyes, so uniquely honest and 
 so out of harmony with the belt of cartridges, 
 the rakish hat with its upturned brim, and the 
 pitiless contraction of the eyebrows, that Dr. 
 Thorne forgot to raise his arms. Instead, he 
 gazed calmly into the virtuous eyes that from 
 behind the pistol as calmly met his own. 
 
 " Throw up your hands ! " came again 
 from the boyish lips and in a boyish voice ; 
 and Dr. Thorne, with a touch of alarm, ob 
 served that the revolver was cocked, with a 
 bullet in every chamber. But instead of 
 throwing up his hands, he climbed slowly to 
 his feet, and, as he did so, he noticed another 
 boy in the background, off nearer the entrance 
 to the enclosure. This second boy, as their 
 eyes met, edged back toward the steps in a 
 manner that left no doubt as to the sudden 
 ness of his disappearance in case of danger. 
 As the preacher glanced down again at the 
 more courageous desperado who stood defi- 
 109 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 antly before him, he acted swiftly upon a stra 
 tegic idea as it came into his head. Looking 
 off toward the retreating comrade, he said, 
 
 " Your friend is deserting you." 
 
 As the boy instinctively turned his head to 
 verify the evil tidings, Dr. Thome, with one 
 step forward, knocked the pistol from his 
 hand. The blow discharged it, and the sharp 
 report seemed a profanation of the silent acre. 
 He heard, within a foot of his ear, the 
 whistle of the bullet. Before the boy could 
 recover himself he was seized by the arm and 
 shoulder. 
 
 " So it was really loaded, you rascal ! " 
 and he gave the figure in his grasp a violent 
 shake. He was surprised, in the boy's 
 struggle to free himself, at the strength and 
 energy of his youthful captive. But no strug 
 gling could avail in such a grip, and the 
 would-be robber after one or two efforts stood 
 quiet but unresigned. 
 
 " Don't you know better than to handle 
 loaded weapons in that way ? It 's a wonder 
 you did n't kill me." 
 
 There was no reply. 
 
 u Do you want to be hanged for murder ? " 
 no 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 After a moment's reflection, as if the 
 question required a cautious answer, the boy 
 replied, with enough bravado to show the 
 enemy he was still unterrified, 
 
 " No, sir, not right off." 
 
 The doctor turned him about, and looked 
 down into his face. As he met the cool, 
 gray, truthful eyes, he felt convinced that he 
 was the victim of a childish folly. 
 
 Off in the highway, as fast as his legs 
 could take him, he noticed the reserve guard 
 travelling feverishly to the westward. He 
 could not resist a smile. 
 
 " Your friend knows where he is safe, and 
 he means to get there. You would better fol 
 low his example if you ever have the chance." 
 
 The prisoner also looked in that direction, 
 then muttered with a measureless contempt : 
 " Ho ! Davey always was a coward ! He 
 oughter been a girl ! " 
 
 The doctor for an instant thought of re 
 senting this slur upon the other sex, but 
 instead, he offered terms to the enemy. 
 
 " If I let you go will you promise to be 
 have better, and not play with loaded pistols 
 in the future ? " 
 
 1 1 1 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " Yes, I promise." 
 
 " You give me your word of honor ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 As he released his grip and took a back 
 ward step, the boy sprang toward the pistol, 
 snatched it from the grass, cocked it, and 
 levelled it again toward the figure before him. 
 
 u Now, who 's ahead ? " he exclaimed. 
 " This time you throw up your hands, or I '11 
 fire it ! " 
 
 But the hands were not thrown up. The 
 massive head drooped slowly forward, and 
 two calm, brown eyes rested mournfully 
 upon the speaker. Reproachfully and with 
 out anger he looked into the triumphant 
 face. 
 
 u So your promise goes for nothing ! You 
 should have been a sneak thief or a pick 
 pocket ; not an open robber. I have always 
 understood that famous robbers had some 
 self-respect, some regard for their word of 
 honor." 
 
 Over the villain's face came a flush of 
 
 color. Shame and indignation took the place 
 
 of triumph, and the eyes wavered. There 
 
 was an inward struggle, as easily read by the 
 
 112 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 man before him as from an open book. 
 Lowering the revolver, he turned it about, 
 holding the muzzle toward himself, then 
 stepped forward and presented it to his tower 
 ing victor. In an uneven voice, and with a 
 strong effort to repress the quivering of a lip, 
 he mumbled hurriedly, 
 
 " I 'm not a sneak thief ! Take it yourself ! 
 I don't want it ! " 
 
 Dr. Thome took the weapon, carefully 
 pointed it in another direction as he lowered 
 the trigger, then returned it to the owner, 
 saying, 
 
 " As we both are men of honor, it does n't 
 matter who keeps the pistol." 
 
 Five minutes later they were sitting in the 
 shade of the two hemlocks, each upon one 
 of the low granite blocks at the entrance of 
 the cemetery. Here it was cooler, and Dr. 
 Thome laid his hat beside him, and drew his 
 handkerchief across his brow ; for there had 
 been a certain excitement in the recent 
 episode, and the heat, out there in the sun, 
 was penetrating. As the boy sat opposite, his 
 feet just clearing the ground, the clergyman 
 suspected, from the soiled collar and wrist- 
 8 113 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 bands, the long red stockings worn through at 
 the knees, and the shoes which appeared first 
 to have received a soaking, then to have trav 
 elled many miles over a dusty road, that his vis 
 a-vis had found that wealth and luxury were 
 not infallible accompaniments to a robber's life. 
 
 " Do your parents live in Lynstock ? " 
 
 " No, sir. I don't know where that is." 
 
 u Why, this is Lynstock. You are in it 
 now." 
 
 The boy nodded carelessly, accepting the 
 statement, but taking no interest in the village 
 or in its name. 
 
 " Where do they live, your parents ? " 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " You don't know where your parents 
 live ? " 
 
 " No, sir. They both cleared out, and I don't 
 know where." His eyes rested calmly upon 
 the questioner, yet with a certain watchfulness. 
 
 " What is your name ? " 
 
 The youth hesitated, but decided this time 
 to tell the truth. 
 
 "Stephen Wadsworth." 
 
 " And your home ? When did you come 
 from home ? " 
 
 114 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " I came from New York, me and Davey 
 together, but the home was rented to some 
 body else." 
 
 As he spoke, he broke off a stem of milk 
 weed, and appeared surprised at the white 
 liquid within, and at its stickiness. His 
 friend noticed it. 
 
 " You have not lived in the country much." 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Where did you sleep last night ? " 
 
 " In the porch of a house, off there ; " and 
 he pointed over the valley to the west of the 
 village. "And the night before that we 
 slept in a swell stable. Climbed through the 
 winder, and had bully beds on the carriage 
 cushions. We hooked a ride on a freight 
 train to that place; and if the brakeman had n't 
 spotted us, we M have gone a lot further." 
 
 "Your friend is still going farther, and 
 in a hurry." 
 
 " Oh, he 's no use ! He went back on 
 me yesterday, and he would again. I sha'n't 
 go after him much. He 's wanted to back 
 out and go home ever since we started. 
 Now he can do it. He ain't no use he is 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 This correction of faulty grammar led the 
 preacher to believe that the stranger had 
 quitted a more refined and educated home 
 than was indicated by his present calling. 
 
 " Perhaps your father is a professional 
 man." 
 
 " I guess he is." 
 
 " A clergyman." 
 
 cc Not much ! " was retorted emphatically, 
 as one resents an injustice. " He 's an all- 
 around sport." 
 
 " What does he do ? " 
 
 " I don't know exactly. I never saw him 
 do it." 
 
 The questioner inferred from the manner of 
 this reply that it was intentionally ambiguous. 
 
 " Tell me why you boys selected Lynstock 
 for a visit." 
 
 " Oh, just the same as the other places, 
 to hold folks up, and so forth." 
 
 u Then you are a professional robber ? '* 
 
 Yes, sir." 
 
 Dr. Thome's face expressed neither sur 
 prise nor disapproval. His glance wandered 
 calmly away among the gravestones, as if 
 professional robbers were his daily associates, 
 116 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 the companions of his choice. When he 
 looked again into the eyes which by their 
 exceeding goodness persistently gave the lie 
 to the noxious sentiments of their owner, he 
 smiled pleasantly, and said, 
 
 " When you have had more experience in 
 this particular field of crime, you will select 
 your victims with sounder judgment. The 
 idea of waylaying a preacher on his way from 
 church ! They never have money. You 
 might as well c hold up ' one of the oxen in 
 the pasture." 
 
 " You 've got a watch." 
 
 "True. But you would not rob a peace 
 able, hard-working minister of his only 
 treasure." 
 
 The highwayman for an instant showed a 
 slight embarrassment, but, quickly recovering 
 himself, he answered with studied indifference, 
 as he tossed a pebble down the granite steps : 
 
 " Of course I would ! Business is business." 
 
 Dr. Thorne was too experienced to risk a 
 moral discourse at this stage of an acquaint 
 ance. After a moment's silence he asked : 
 
 " Have you been to breakfast ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, back in that other town." 
 117 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " Was it a good one ? " 
 
 The traveller kicked his heels indifferently 
 against the granite block, and inserted a spear 
 of grass between his lips before he answered : 
 
 " Good enough." 
 
 " Do you mind telling me what you had ? " 
 
 " Some apples." 
 
 " Apples ! They must have been green 
 ones." 
 
 Sort of." 
 
 The doctor took out his watch. 
 
 u My dinner is all ready and waiting for 
 me. Won't you come and share it ? I 
 should like very much to have you." 
 
 As he spoke, he felt the gaze of the rob 
 ber fixed intently upon him as if suspecting 
 treachery. 
 
 cc I guess not. I must be goin'." 
 
 " Where are you going ? " 
 
 " Off there," pointing to the east. " To 
 the wild west, where the fun is ; " and he slid 
 from his seat and stood up. 
 
 The clergyman also arose and put on his 
 hat. 
 
 " I will make a bargain with you. If you 
 come home with me and spend the night, I 
 III 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 will have your shirt washed and give you a 
 new pair of stockings." 
 
 The boy looked suspiciously into his face, 
 then lowered his eyes and bestowed careful 
 attention to a hole he was digging in the turf 
 with the toe of his boot. During the pause 
 one of the squirrels in the branches above 
 uttered a final protest, then retired to the 
 inner apartments of his home. 
 
 " Well, what do you say ? " 
 
 The traveller seemed embarrassed. With 
 a sidelong look he asked, 
 
 " Where do you come in ? " 
 
 " I shall have the pleasure of doing my 
 share toward establishing a pleasant friend 
 ship. It seems to me that a solid friendship 
 after so unpromising an introduction is a 
 thing to celebrate." 
 
 The highwayman returned the smile with 
 which this was spoken, but his doubts were 
 not allayed. 
 
 " You will hold on to me and not let me 
 
 go-" 
 
 u I give you my word of honor you shall 
 
 leave whenever you wish. I am telling you 
 
 the truth. I like you and wish to know you 
 
 119 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 better. Of course, as a clergyman, I cannot 
 indorse the profession you have chosen, but 
 I like your spirit ; and as far as I can 
 judge I like your character. Come. Let 
 us go home and celebrate ; " and he held out 
 his hand. 
 
 Stephen looked up for a second into the 
 heavy, benevolent face, then stepped forward 
 and laid his grimy hand upon the extended 
 palm. 
 
 "All right." 
 
 Five big, fat fingers closed about it with a 
 hearty grasp, the grasp of that unwavering 
 friendship that loves us for our virtues and 
 forgives our faults. 
 
 120 
 
VI 
 
 A CROSS the fields, a shorter cut than by 
 the highway, Dr. Thorne returned to 
 the village, gleaning, as he went, bits of per 
 sonal history from his new acquaintance; 
 and the more he learned of his antecedents, 
 the less he marvelled at results. 
 
 As they emerged upon the main avenue 
 from a neighbor's yard, Steve was awed by 
 the prevailing silence. To this New Yorker 
 who had rarely escaped from the noise and 
 bustle of his native city, the wide, empty 
 street with its overhanging trees, and the 
 houses, cheerful and prosperous but with no 
 outward signs of human life, all gave the im 
 pression of a deserted settlement ; of some 
 thing mortuary and forgotten. 
 
 Stopping before a low old-fashioned gate, 
 painted white, like the fence on either side, 
 Dr. Thorne held it open for his guest to 
 enter. Stephen found himself on a gravel 
 
 121 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 walk, at the other end of which, some twenty 
 yards away, stood a long, low house, also 
 white but nearly covered with vines. 
 
 Along the borders of this walk were strips of 
 box, nearly up to his waist ; dark, impenetrable 
 and fragrant. And behind these little hedges, 
 in wild, disorderly profusion, flashed a sea of 
 flowers, of all the colors in the universe, now 
 dazzling beneath the summer sun. They 
 were very tall, some higher than his head. 
 Hollyhocks and roses, pink peonies and lark 
 spur, sweet peas, nasturtiums, foxglove and 
 poppies, smiled or rather laughed all 
 huddled together, an orgy of blinding color. 
 
 Bees buzzed, some drunk and others sober; 
 while casual humming-birds, in the abandon 
 ment of frivolity, reeled gleefully from flower 
 to flower. 
 
 Steve blinked, and instinctively took a long, 
 deep breath of an intoxicant the like of which 
 had never figured in his dreams ; for no such 
 odors could have survived a journey to the 
 Wadsworth flat. Rich, overladen with per 
 fumes, mignonette in the ascendant, it 
 stole into his brain and seemed to lift him 
 up. To be sure, he was bad, too bad for 
 122 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 honest boys to play with, but his imagination 
 was young and active, and this flood that 
 poured into his soul, a flood of gentleness 
 and delight, what was it ? 
 
 Could this be fairy land ? 
 
 Every sense seemed tingling into a new 
 existence. With a touch he could have 
 floated to the clouds. He forgot his body 
 and his legs, his pistol, his empty stomach, 
 and the joys of crime. 
 
 But this transformation was only tempo 
 rary. With his host by his side he trod the 
 gravel walk toward the house, and when half 
 way there, from among the flowers close be 
 side the path, arose the head and shoulders 
 of a radiant woman. Her hair was golden, 
 and the sunshine seemed to form a halo round 
 about it. She wore a dress of white, and in 
 her hands were pinks. Steve halted again. 
 
 This must be the fairy of the garden ! 
 
 So light and dainty was this figure, among 
 the many colors, that had Stephen been a man 
 he would have strode in and plucked her with 
 the other flowers. To him it was a novel 
 type, the delicate, sensitive face with the large 
 brown eyes, at once cheerful and sad, and the 
 123 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 mouth ever ready to smile, yet with signs of 
 trouble about the corners. 
 
 " Why, papa ! You ought to be ashamed 
 of yourself ! You are awfully late for dinner ! " 
 
 And as she stepped out upon the walk 
 through an opening in the box, she saw the 
 boy and nodded a smiling welcome. 
 
 " This is a guest I have brought to visit 
 you, Bessie ; a friend of mine who will dine 
 with us." 
 
 She said pleasant things with a pleasant smile, 
 and made him feel at home ; and as she ad 
 justed a pink in the buttonhole of his jacket, 
 Stephen experienced yet another sensation, 
 more novel and overpowering than the other. 
 
 He fell in love. 
 
 It was sudden, but no passion was ever 
 more complete j that is, of course, no love 
 of boy for a woman twice his age. He was 
 eleven and she was twenty-six, but to every 
 boy this is liable to occur ; and with Stephen 
 it was an overwhelming sensation. He drank 
 her in with bashful eyes. Her gentle face 
 and voice and manner were to him a reve 
 lation. And he saw, without defining it, an 
 expression about her eyes and mouth that 
 124 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 suggested sorrow, with a brave resolve to 
 appear more cheerful than she felt. 
 
 The only woman with whom Stephen thus 
 far had been on terms of intimacy was his 
 mother, and between the two there was little 
 resemblance. This lady's hair was a quieter 
 yellow ; not selected by herself, but fully as 
 effective : there was no paint upon her cheeks, 
 nor artificial emphasis about the eyes. Her 
 raiment also was less conspicuous. His 
 mother, taller and more majestic, could easily 
 have vanquished this person in a struggle, but 
 by this he did not allow himself to be pre 
 judiced. He realized, instinctively, that the 
 virtues of his inamorata were virtues of 
 another nature, and to be judged from a 
 different stand point. 
 
 She led him upstairs to an orderly chamber, 
 unlike his own, supervised the washing 
 of his face and hands, and scolded him with 
 an affectionate smile for having his hair too 
 short to brush. It was a fighting cut, and 
 showed every contour of his head. And 
 during all he was dumb, like a fool, giving the 
 briefest answers to her friendly questions. He 
 felt a pleasant thrill whenever her fingers 
 125 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 touched him, and yearned for an opportunity 
 to show her what he really was, to rescue 
 her from some frightful danger. If a hun 
 dred redskins would only pounce into the 
 room to scalp and kill her, that he, with her 
 trembling form in his arms, might lay them 
 low in quick succession, he would have 
 been supremely happy. To win her admira 
 tion was his chief desire. But at present he 
 saw no prospect of achieving it. These times 
 of peace, for men of action, were far from 
 satisfying. 
 
 This house of Dr. Thome's was built in 
 the preceding century by an ancestor of Revo 
 lutionary fame. The dining-room, long and 
 narrow, with all its windows at the end, had, 
 like the rest of the house, a low ceiling. 
 When Stephen entered, under Bessie's guid 
 ance, the outer blinds were closed, and the 
 light at first seemed dim and insufficient ; but 
 he saw Dr. Thorne at one end of the table, 
 back to the windows. At the other end sat 
 an elderly woman, stout and in a light dress. 
 She took his hand and held it in her own for 
 a moment, while she said, in a low but decided 
 voice, rapidly and with a pleasant smile, 
 126 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " So you are Mr. Wadsworth. Well, you 
 are a good boy ; I can see that. And you 
 look as if the wind would n't blow you over. 
 Gracious ! what truthful eyes ! Why, it 's 
 better than going to Sunday-school just 
 to look into them. Sit down there, in that 
 place next to Dr. Thorne, and eat a good 
 dinner." 
 
 Stephen looked into her own eyes as she 
 spoke, and saw they were small, black, and very 
 sharp. The flesh at the corners was drawn 
 up in little wrinkles in such a manner as to 
 render it uncertain whether she was simply 
 smiling or perusing your own thoughts. Her 
 face seemed pale, but not with the pallor of 
 disease, for Aunt Lorinda, now in her seventy- 
 sixth year, had always enjoyed the very best 
 of health, and thus far there were no indica 
 tions of a change. She appeared about fifty. 
 As to bodily vigor and mental energy, she was 
 still in her youth. 
 
 Stephen sat in the chair indicated, and, 
 being bountifully helped by his host, pro 
 ceeded to manifest his appreciation of the 
 food with the celerity and disregard of con 
 sequences peculiar to shipwrecked mariners 
 127 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 and to growing boys. There was conversa 
 tion while he ate ; but he took little interest, 
 only speaking when questioned. And the 
 answers were brief. 
 
 While waiting for the dessert, he noticed a 
 vacant chair opposite his own, and he won 
 dered who was to sit in it. He also took long 
 breaths of the perfumes wafted through the 
 house from the old garden in front. 
 
 Glad he was that he had come. He looked 
 furtively once or twice at the heavenly being 
 beside him, and his love grew stronger with 
 each glance. Perhaps these people would 
 let him remain here always. He would do 
 heroic things, and she would be sure to like 
 him ! 
 
 Aunt Lorinda he also watched, and with 
 increasing interest. Her manner was that of 
 a very young person, not affected, but wide 
 awake and amusing. In conversation she 
 seemed courageous and emphatic, and there 
 was never a doubt of her meaning. Her 
 remarks must have been funny, for both Dr. 
 Thorne and Bessie often laughed at what she 
 said. Although a little afraid of her at first, 
 he soon began to like her. 
 128 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 After helping to the dessert the richest 
 and most satisfying blueberry-pudding the 
 guest had ever tasted she leaned back and 
 said, 
 
 " That was a splendid sermon this morn 
 ing, William. It made an impression, but of 
 course there are many who can't believe it." 
 
 " Of course," said Dr. Thorne. " I ex 
 pect that. It is a hard thing to believe 
 without preparation." 
 
 "And while I can't quite believe it my 
 self," said Aunt Lorinda, " it irritates me to 
 have others doubt it. This morning in the 
 vestibule, coming out, Peter Upham was just 
 behind me, and " 
 
 " Peter Upham ? " inquired Bessie, " that 
 horrid Peter Upham, Jennie's father, with 
 the funny eyes ? " 
 
 "Yes, and the eyes are still his. Two 
 little oysters, each with a green pea in the 
 middle. And a mouth like a bullfrog's only 
 bigger and looser. His voice, when he 
 lowers it, is like a storm at sea. You know 
 his kind of piety, that damns all who differ. 
 I am sure he patronizes the Almighty when 
 they are alone together. Well, this morning, 
 9 129 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 coming out, he was just behind me. I heard 
 him say in his lowest voice, a voice that 
 shook the windows and bent the elms beyond 
 the Common : c A most eloquent sermon, 
 but although of a religious nature myself, I 
 am constrained to say that somebody has 
 been stuffing Dr. Thorne.' Well, at first I 
 thought of jamming my parasol into his 
 mouth and opening it, but it 's a new parasol. 
 He saw me just as he finished, and began a 
 rigmarole of pompous explanations." 
 
 Dr. Thorne looked troubled and shook his 
 head. 
 
 " Peter is sensitive, and I hope you 
 did n't make it unpleasant for him." 
 
 Aunt Lorinda, with more wrinkles about 
 her eyes, replied, 
 
 " No, not particularly. I only told him he 
 was not the first Peter who had gone back on 
 the Lord." 
 
 Dr. Thorne frowned sadly as upon a way 
 ward child with whom argument is wasted. 
 
 A few moments later a step was heard in the 
 hall, and Bessie rose from the table, saying : 
 
 There 's Alfred." 
 
 Then Stephen heard her speaking to the 
 130 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 new-comer as together they ascended the 
 stairs. 
 
 " Good ! " said Aunt Lorinda. " Now, 
 dear little Alfred can have his boots taken off, 
 and be dressed for dinner." 
 
 " Is Alfred a little boy ? " Steve inquired. 
 
 u Yes, and always will be;" but Dr. Thorne 
 gave her a warning look. " No, that was 
 partly in joke. Alfred is Captain Chauncey, 
 Mrs. Chauncey's husband." 
 
 " Mrs. Chauncey ? " 
 * " Yes, she just left. We call her Bessie." 
 
 So Bessie was married ! Steve shrunk 
 beneath the blow. For a moment his appe 
 tite forsook him. But then, to lovers under 
 twelve, such announcements are less destruc 
 tive than at maturer periods. To be near 
 her for the present, with liberty to adore, was 
 sufficient to feed the fires of his unexacting 
 love. Although the shock was cruel, he 
 quickly recovered, and with no abatement of 
 devotion. 
 
 u Is Captain Chauncey a real soldier ? " he 
 inquired. 
 
 " Bless you, no ! " exclaimed Aunt Lo 
 rinda. u He gave that up when he was 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 married, and became a professional husband. 
 He superintends his wife. He's a success 
 ful invalid now. You don't know what it is 
 to be that kind of an invalid ? " 
 
 Steve shook his head. She screwed up 
 her eyes and looked sharply at him from the 
 corners. 
 
 " I should say that he had the same line of 
 diseases that you have." 
 
 " But I am never sick ! " 
 * " That 's bis trouble, and it unfits him for 
 work." 
 
 Steve did not quite understand; but it 
 mattered little, as Aunt Lorinda was con 
 versing for her own delectation. Dr. 
 Thorne threw a warning glance which she 
 carefully avoided. 
 
 " Think how awful it is for an able-bod 
 ied man in the prime of life to realize that 
 consumption, fits, fatigue, old age, or some 
 other fatal disease may strike him at any mo 
 ment ! And yet he fights bravely on. He 
 is a fisherman. He has been fishing this 
 morning, Sunday." 
 
 " Does he go on the ocean ? " asked Steve. 
 
 " Oh, dear no ! He is not that foolish 
 132 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 sort of a fisherman. No wet feet and empty 
 stomachs for him ! He sits on the bank 
 and bobs a line. But he never catches any 
 thing. That would be cruel, would n't it ? 
 and laborious." 
 
 "Be careful, Aunt Lorinda;" and Dr. 
 Thorne turned the lady's conversation into 
 other fields. 
 
 Although the finer shades of Aunt Lo- 
 rinda's contempt were lost upon Stephen, 
 he guessed that she had a poor opinion 
 of Bessie's husband. It was some hours 
 later that he first met this gentleman. 
 
 Coming down to supper, he found Dr. 
 Thorne, Aunt Lorinda, and Bessie beneath 
 the vine-covered porch. Upon the seat beside 
 Bessie, his legs crossed and his hands in his 
 pockets, sat the successful invalid ; and Steve 
 was pleased with his appearance. Captain 
 Chauncey's age was mysterious, but he gave 
 the impression as was his intent of a 
 man of thirty-five or forty. But Aunt 
 Lorinda and Dr. Thorne knew him to be 
 twenty-four years older than his wife, and his 
 wife was twenty-six. His youthful mus 
 tache, from which the few gray hairs had 
 133 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 been carefully extracted, turned pleasantly 
 upwards at the extremities. In his face 
 were no lines of care. The nose, chin, and 
 forehead made an excellent profile. His eye 
 glasses seemed of more importance than the 
 eyes behind, which were neither large, small, 
 light, dark, attractive, nor repellent. These 
 glasses necessitated a slight but perpetual 
 elevation of the chin when regarding others. 
 
 Upon closer acquaintance it was usually 
 discovered that Captain Chauncey's mouth 
 was peculiar. The under lip projected slightly, 
 with no curve beneath ; that is, his profile 
 from mouth to chin was a straight, uncom 
 promising line. The mouth, as a whole, 
 while suggesting certain uncomfortable vari 
 eties of decision, was less disquieting in 
 repose than when its owner smiled. For 
 when Captain Chauncey smiled, and with 
 enjoyment, it was either from triumph 
 or from contempt. The mouth seemed 
 to open at the corners on these occa 
 sions, yet with no display of hilarity. 
 
 But he had a good figure, was always 
 well dressed, and, when necessary, polite 
 and even entertaining. 
 114 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " Alfred, this is Mr. Stephen Wadsworth," 
 said Bessie. " He has come to make us a 
 visit." 
 
 With mock ceremoniousness Captain 
 Chauncey shook his hand. 
 
 " I am delighted to meet you, Mr. Wads- 
 worth . You are from New York, I believe ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Are you a student of phrenology, Mr. 
 Wadsworth ? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " That 's lucky, for if you were, the con 
 tour of your own skull might cause you some 
 uneasiness." 
 
 "Why, Alfred," said Bessie, "what do 
 you mean ? Stephen has quite a handsome 
 head." 
 
 " Yes, very likely," replied Captain Chaun 
 cey, passing his hand over Stephen's close- 
 cropped hair, " but it depends altogether on 
 the point of view. Gladiatorially it is a per 
 fect head. Phrenologically, a man with a 
 head like that is either a thief or a murderer. 
 Just run your eye over the portraits of dis 
 tinguished criminals and you will find they 
 are endowed with similar craniums." 
 '35 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 He patted Stephen on the shoulder, as he 
 said in what was intended for a playful 
 manner, 
 
 " You don't mind my uttering these harm 
 less prophecies, Stephen ? " 
 
 " No, sir, I don't mind." 
 
 Dr. Thorne, remembering his own nar 
 row escape in the cemetery, looked sharply 
 at the boy ; but he saw that Captain 
 Chauncey's remarks were taken simply as 
 a joke. 
 
 " You should n't talk that way, even in 
 fun," said Bessie. 
 
 " Well," said her husband, sinking back 
 into his former position, u we will play it 's 
 a joke." 
 
 The person whose good opinion was more 
 precious than all others upon earth was, of 
 course, the woman he loved ; and when 
 Stephen found her eyes fixed amiably upon 
 him, he became indifferent to all extraneous 
 comments. 
 
 "You must certainly take a thorough 
 course in phrenology," said Aunt Lorinda. 
 " Don't neglect a faculty that enables you 
 not only to decide offhand on the character 
 
 136 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 of every one you meet, but to foretell their 
 future. Experience is nothing to it." 
 
 Captain Chauncey ignored this remark. 
 Five years ago, on his last visit to America, 
 he had ventured, in the presence of others, a 
 few sarcastic remarks with intent to ridicule 
 Aunt Lorinda. At that period he knew her 
 but slightly, and had hoped by one crushing, 
 almost insulting speech, reflecting upon her 
 age, her dependent position, and her want 
 of tact, to silence her forever, at least as 
 regarded himself. But Aunt Lorinda in her 
 sweetest manner had retorted with a calmness 
 and skill that had stretched her adversary 
 upon the field of battle. In her response, 
 courteously worded, she had informed him 
 and the others present that a scheming, 
 impecunious, middle-aged man, who mar 
 ried an inexperienced girl for her money and 
 wrecked her happiness by his own brutality 
 and selfishness, was not entitled to the respect 
 of decent people. 
 
 Never since that day had he crossed swords 
 with Aunt Lorinda. And that interview had 
 been, with him, a sufficient excuse for depriv 
 ing Bessie of all intercourse with her family. 
 137 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 He preferred Vienna to New York, and this 
 present trip to Lynstock was the first time 
 in five years that he had allowed his wife to 
 revisit her home. Now, a man of leisure, 
 having resigned from the army soon after his 
 marriage, he devoted his intellect and energy 
 to the nursing of a perfect constitution. And 
 for this career the earth could not have fur 
 nished a more useful consort than Bessie 
 Thorne. Affectionate, self-sacrificing, and 
 abnormally conscientious, she became a will 
 ing slave. Her sense of duty and allegiance 
 to the man she had married prevented the 
 admission, even to herself, that her idol was 
 of the poorest clay, and that all dreams of 
 happiness were forever gone. Her husband, 
 not being a fool, was aware that Dr. Thorne 
 despised him. Of Aunt Lorinda's contempt 
 there had never been concealment. 
 
 That his wife, who knew him best of all, 
 could, with her lofty ideals, respect his char 
 acter, was too incredible even for Captain 
 Chauncey's vanity ; and this knowledge in 
 itself was an irritation. Of this irritation, 
 his wife, being ever present, was the most 
 convenient victim. Although she made no 
 138 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 confession of matrimonial sorrows, these two 
 friends knew better than herself why she had 
 grown ten years older in half that number of 
 years, and why the gayety and love of fun 
 which seemed a part of her nature had all 
 departed. 
 
 139 
 
VII 
 
 A S the days went by, it was discovered with 
 surprise and pain that certain traits of 
 character possessed by the new arrival were 
 at variance with the moral standard of the 
 Thornes. Truth and Stephen, it appeared, 
 took little pleasure in each other's company. 
 He looked down upon this clear-eyed goddess 
 as a feeble substitute for intelligence. Of 
 course there are times when Truth is harm 
 less and the easiest thing, and at these times 
 she and Stephen worked together; but in 
 matters of business her co-operation was un 
 sought. 
 
 And what brought despair to the members 
 of this honest household was the freedom 
 from shame with which Stephen, when de 
 tected in a lie, looked them pleasantly in the 
 eyes, as if falsehood were the natural course ; 
 he being convinced, all protestations to the 
 contrary, that theirs would be a similar 
 course under similar conditions. And a 
 yet sadder blow for these upright people, 
 140 
 
. Gloria Victis 
 
 whose strength and purity of character were 
 models for all who knew them, was the 
 gradual realization that this member of their 
 household held independent views upon the 
 rights of ownership. In acquiring the prop 
 erty of others without their knowledge he 
 displayed a facility and courage that both 
 dazzled and appalled his friends. And this 
 accomplishment, instead of injuring his repu 
 tation with certain of his pals, proved a 
 source of popularity, as all bananas, dates, or 
 other luxuries obtained from the store with 
 out the formality of payment he always 
 shared freely with his comrades. If rebuked 
 at home, it became obvious, from his amiable 
 but shameless arguments, that, although out 
 wardly convinced, he recognized no sin in 
 appropriating what others did not require. 
 
 These propensities, rare in Lynstock, and 
 practically unknown beneath the rooftree of 
 the Thornes, created hostile comment in the 
 village and embarrassment among his friends. 
 But Dr. Thorne, when reformatory institu 
 tions were suggested by the neighbors, still 
 clung to Stephen. He always insisted upon a 
 further trial. In fact personal friends of the 
 141 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 offender, as a rule, were inclined to leniency- 
 This was easily explained by the possession 
 on Stephen's part of certain qualities that 
 even his victims could not help respecting. 
 His fidelity to his friends, his manliness, his 
 self-reliance, and extraordinary courage ; his 
 cheerfulness, his love of fair play and unhesi 
 tating sacrifice of self when occasion re 
 quired, had won him adherents who remained 
 wilfully blind to his lack of truth and to his 
 contempt for certain brands of honor. To 
 honor of a special kind, however, he was 
 always true. If he gave his word when the 
 breaking of it might compromise a friend, 
 he invariably fulfilled his promise at whatever 
 cost. 
 
 Another characteristic that brought annoy 
 ance and mortification to the household, and 
 especially to the peace-loving Bessie, was this 
 boy's pugnacity. Hardly a day went by, dur 
 ing the first fortnight of his visit, in which his 
 face presented its normal coloring. Either 
 an eye was blackened, a lip swollen, or there 
 were other disfigurations. His knuckles, as 
 a rule, were " skinned." For it appeared 
 necessary, at least to Stephen, that decisions 
 142 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 should be reached at once as to whether he 
 could " lick " the other boys, or vice versa. 
 This, to his shame be it recorded, was owing 
 less to curiosity on his part than to a desire 
 for displaying a certain physical superiority. 
 And while this superiority led to occasional 
 bullying of those smaller than himself, it must 
 also be recorded, to his credit, that he never 
 shrunk from confronting other bullies of what 
 ever size. For these bigger bullies, however, 
 there was little satisfaction in meeting an 
 enemy who not only enjoyed the combat, 
 but who slept upon the field of battle. Steve 
 never acknowledged defeat. He was always 
 ready to begin again. The result was that, 
 after a few sanguinary encounters with the 
 fighting boys of the village, he was awarded 
 the championship for the sake of peace, and 
 hostilities ended. 
 
 While achieving this glory, he proved a 
 most distressing element among the peace 
 able, order-loving Thornes. Almost every 
 thing he did was a surprise. Of this he had 
 no suspicion, believing himself, without giv 
 ing the matter any thought, to be the average 
 boy. But to Bessie and Aunt Lorinda he 
 H3 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 was a revelation. That any single human 
 being should comprise so many conflicting 
 traits, so many that were alarming, even 
 criminal, and yet display upon occasion 
 qualities that bordered on the heroic, was even 
 more than a revelation. It was a shock. 
 And it broadened their points of view with a 
 suddenness that destroyed their faith in all 
 previous theories of human nature. 
 
 The acceptance in their midst of such a 
 dog as Cato proved the liberalizing tendencies 
 of Stephen's influence. Cato's introduction 
 took place one afternoon as Aunt Lorinda 
 with Dr. Thorne and the bishop were stroll 
 ing along the path through the old-fashioned 
 garden, conversing with solemn faces upon a 
 family matter. 
 
 They all looked up as the little gate swung 
 to, and saw Stephen, his face illumined with 
 pride and joy, running toward them with an 
 animal in tow. Halting before the trio, he 
 exclaimed, 
 
 " Look at him ! He 's mine ! " 
 
 And he pointed triumphantly to the quad 
 ruped by his side. 
 
 This creature was a bulldog, brindled, 
 144 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 wide-chested, bow-legged, with a project 
 ing jaw and visible teeth. In the absurdly 
 short space between his nose and his dissi 
 pated, bloodshot eyes were cynical creases, 
 as if a careless or a disappointed Creator had 
 jammed his nose into his face. This nose 
 and the stumps of his close-cut ears were an 
 unpleasant pink. The same color obtained 
 also about his eyes. He looked immoral, 
 pugnacious, and tough. He seemed a dog 
 who might prefer gin to water, and who 
 might swear and chew tobacco; who if he 
 smoked would hold the cigar in a corner of 
 his mouth, and never remove it. His tongue 
 hung out a little between his teeth, and when 
 he fixed his eyes upon a person he gave the 
 impression as if about to spring and fasten 
 onto human flesh until Death, and Death 
 alone, should part his jaws. 
 
 Aunt Lorinda took a backward step, rather 
 behind the bishop; and the bishop, had not 
 pride restrained him, would have placed him 
 self in turn behind Aunt Lorinda. But he 
 stood his ground, and encountered without 
 flinching the upward gaze of the brindled 
 brute, who looked him calmly and somewhat 
 10 145 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 warningly in the eyes with an expression 
 that made it clear indeed that he had no fear 
 of bishops. 
 
 " Take him away ! Take him away ! " 
 exclaimed Aunt Lorinda. " Take that hor 
 rid thing out of this yard, Stephen, and never 
 bring him here again ! " 
 
 The joy departed from Stephen's face. In 
 a tone of the keenest disappointment he 
 exclaimed, 
 
 " Why, he 's a splendid dog ! He can lick 
 anything in town." 
 
 " Where did you get him, Stephen ? " 
 asked Dr. Thorne. 
 
 " From Barney Case." 
 
 " Did you buy him ? " 
 
 " No, sir ; he gave him to me." 
 
 u That is unusual. Barney is not in the 
 habit of giving away his dogs. Are you sure 
 he gave him to you ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Then it will be no loss to you if you 
 take him back." 
 
 A swift glance from Steve expressed more 
 to Dr. Thorne than to the others, and the 
 boy lowered his eyes. 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " Heavens ! " exclaimed Aunt Lorinda. 
 " Think of living with such a thing ! Why, 
 I should feel safer with a Bengal tiger." 
 
 " He won't bite," said Steve. Look ! " 
 and stooping down he pried open the shape 
 less mouth and inserted a ringer. During 
 this performance the animal turned his large 
 brown eyes in gentle inquiry to Stephen's face. 
 These eyes, upon a calmer examination, 
 seemed honest and even tender ; out of har 
 mony, in fact, with the reckless pugnacity of 
 his general appearance. 
 
 Dr. Thorne, better versed in dogs than his 
 companions, turned to Aunt Lorinda and 
 said, 
 
 " He probably is not so bad as he looks." 
 
 " To be that bad," said the bishop, " would 
 be impossible." 
 
 " What is his name, Stephen ? " 
 
 " Cato." 
 
 " Cato ? There seems a want of fitness." 
 Then, turning to the bishop with a serious 
 face, he inquired, 
 
 " John, do you remember Cato as that 
 kind of man, a bow-legged, Bowery tough, 
 with a chip on his shoulder ? " 
 H7 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 The bishop smiled. 
 
 " No, I do not j but there may be more 
 fitness than we think. Those later Romans 
 were a dangerous lot." 
 
 However, it ended by Aunt Lorinda being 
 persuaded to give Cato a chance, and that chance 
 was all he needed. Both she and Bessie, when 
 once accustomed to his threatening appearance, 
 found him not only safe, but faithful, affection 
 ate, and long-suffering. They always main 
 tained, however, that a dog of Cato's aspect 
 rendered outward respectability impossible. 
 
 " Strangers who see him at the door," said 
 Aunt Lorinda, " will be sure there 's a bar 
 room in the house." 
 
 The following afternoon Dr. Thorne called 
 Steve into the library. He told him, as 
 the boy stood leaning against his knee, a hand 
 in one of his own, that he had learned from 
 Barney Case that seven dollars had been re 
 ceived for Cato. 
 
 " Now, Steve, I want you to tell me, 
 truthfully, where you got that money." 
 
 Steve hesitated. Then looking his ques 
 tioner frankly in the face, his own eyes 
 radiant with truth, 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " I found it." 
 
 " Where did you find it ? " 
 
 Again there was hesitation. 
 
 " I forget." 
 
 Dr. Thorne with his other hand patted 
 him gently on the shoulder. 
 
 "No, no; be honest, Stephen. Where 
 did you find it ? " 
 
 " On the kitchen table." 
 
 " And you knew it was Ellen's money." 
 
 " I did n't know." 
 
 u Yes, you knew, for you heard poor Ellen 
 asking about it." 
 
 Steve twisted the little gold ring upon his 
 finger, but answered nothing. 
 
 " I thought you and Ellen were the best 
 of friends." 
 
 " We be we are' 9 
 
 " She has been very kind to you, has n't 
 she ? She has cooked things especially for 
 you; and she tied up your thumb that day 
 you cut it." 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " And now," continued the doctor, always 
 gently, " you repay her by robbing her of her 
 wages." 
 
 149 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Steve lowered his eyes. 
 
 " You rob her, your own friend, to whom 
 you ought to be grateful, by depriving her of 
 the benefits of her labor." 
 
 This was putting it in a new light. A 
 little color crept over Stephen's face, and he 
 looked away. 
 
 u Pretty small business, is n't it, for a 
 manly boy with any sense of honor ? And 
 it is disappointing for me to find you are too 
 weak to resist temptation, and ready to turn 
 at any moment and betray those who trust 
 you, who helped you when in trouble. In 
 gratitude is bad enough ; but to be a thieving 
 traitor who " 
 
 " No, no ! " exclaimed Steve, facing about 
 with quivering lips, " I ain't that ! I ain't ! 
 I did n't think all that. Really, I did n't ! " 
 and, extending his arm, he pressed his hand 
 against the doctor's chest. 
 
 " Well, I believe you, Stephen ; that you 
 did n't realize what a mean business you 
 were undertaking. But I want you to make 
 me a promise, a solemn promise that you 
 will stick to through thick and thin, all your 
 life. That is, that you will never steal again; 
 150 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 never, under any circumstances. Can you 
 make such a promise and keep it ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ! Yes, sir ! " 
 
 " But I do not wish you to make the promise 
 unless you are sure you can keep it." 
 
 " I am sure I can. I will." 
 
 "Very well. Then lay your hand in 
 mine, so. Now say, ' Dr. Thorne, I give 
 you my word of honor that I will never steal 
 again.' " 
 
 Steve repeated the words with an emphasis 
 and decision that gave encouragement to the 
 listener. 
 
 The interview had been short; but the 
 counsellor and friend, considering the offend 
 er's character, believed the lesson might be 
 weakened by a moral lecture. 
 
 Ellen was reimbursed, and Stephen made 
 to feel that he was freely forgiven and fully 
 trusted. 
 
 A day or two later, quite early in the 
 morning, as Steve was lounging about the 
 porch in company with Cato, his rapturous 
 admirer, Captain Chauncey came down the 
 stairs and halted in the doorway, rod in 
 hand, all dressed and equipped for fishing. 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 His face seemed harder than usual, and yet 
 about his mouth were indications of a smile. 
 This smile, had it developed, would have 
 been sardonic and exultant. 
 
 " Are you going fishing ? " asked Stephen. 
 
 Captain Chauncey regarded the boy a mo 
 ment, and appeared to be getting his mouth 
 into just the right position for the kind of an 
 swer he proposed to give. This resulted in 
 a curling of the upper lip, a slight opening of 
 the mouth, and a further projection of the 
 under jaw. 
 
 " No, I am going first to a funeral and then 
 to church. I should think you might have 
 guessed it from my basket, rod, and bait box." 
 
 Stephen, too simple and direct himself to 
 fully grasp the sarcasm, smiled pleasantly in 
 return. Captain Chauncey gave no respond 
 ing smile, but asked a question, 
 
 " Would the murderer like to go too ? " 
 
 " Yes ! " and " Steve, with enthusiasm, 
 jumped quickly from his seat. " I '11 get 
 my line in a second ! " 
 
 " Hold on ! Don't be in a hurry. To 
 day I prefer to be alone. The invitation is 
 for some other day." 
 
 152 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Then, as the face before him changed 
 from happy expectancy to the keenest sor 
 row, and then to embarrassment, the captain 
 really smiled, his usual smile, however, of 
 victory, not of mirth : his mouth opening 
 wider at the corners than in the centre. He 
 also raised his chin, and regarded Stephen 
 with eyes that gave no suggestion of a smile. 
 Then he turned and walked away. 
 
 Stephen's adoration of Mrs. Chauncey im 
 plied no hostility toward the existing hus 
 band. On the contrary, he tried to like him. 
 Future complications resulting from a second 
 spouse caused him no anxiety. 
 
 Whether Captain Chauncey would relin 
 quish his wife upon the appearance of another 
 suitor, or whether God in His mercy would 
 remove the captain at the proper time, as 
 He habitually removed the shades of night at 
 sunrise, were unimportant details to be ad 
 justed in the happy future. Steve only knew 
 with certainty that ten years hence, when he 
 was twenty-one, Bessie of course remain 
 ing her present age, they were to be mar 
 ried; he, Stephen, in the intervening years 
 having covered himself with blood and glory. 
 153 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 At present he was forced to content himself 
 with watching her, with listening to her 
 voice, and dreaming dreams of heroic deeds 
 and complete possession. 
 
 It was with deep although silent grief 
 that he learned the lady of his choice was 
 merely visiting at Lyn stock ; and he partook 
 sincerely in the family sorrow when Bessie 
 informed them, one morning at breakfast, 
 that their visit was to be shortened by a 
 month, Captain Chauncey having decided to 
 return to Vienna within a week. There 
 were traces of weeping in her face when she 
 came to the table, and this information was 
 given with quivering lips and in a breaking 
 voice. 
 
 Aunt Lorinda laid down her knife and 
 fork, leaned back in her chair, and re 
 frained from speech. She knew that if she 
 spoke her expressions would shock her 
 nephew. Had the captain himself been 
 present, the temptation might have proved 
 too strong. Dr. Thorne arose from the 
 table and walked into his study, bearing the 
 outward traces of a righteous indignation ; 
 for he knew as well as Aunt Lorinda that 
 '54 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Captain Chauncey made no pretence of re 
 spect for Bessie's wishes or for those of her 
 family. This visit to her home, the first 
 in five years, was not likely to be repeated, 
 as the captain was bored at Lynstock, and 
 he was not a victim to the habit of self- 
 sacrifice. To be sure, he had promised, and 
 it was distinctly understood, that they were 
 to remain until the middle of September; 
 and he knew that for this violation of his 
 word there would be an augmentation of con 
 tempt on the part of Aunt Lorinda and of 
 Dr. Thome. That troubled him little, how 
 ever, as once out of Lynstock neither he nor 
 Bessie should ever enter it again. 
 
 As for Stephen, he looked forward to a 
 sunless life after the departure of the woman 
 he loved. 
 
 The knowledge of this approaching sepa 
 ration caused father and daughter to be more 
 frequently together during the remaining days. 
 And one afternoon that very week, while Dr. 
 Thorne was writing at his study-table, Bessie 
 sat near the open window, her work in her lap, 
 gazing sadly over the flowers to the distant 
 hills. A summer breeze, bearing perfumes 
 155 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 from the old-fashioned garden, the garden 
 of her happy youth, blew gently against 
 her face, and sharpened the sorrow of ap 
 proaching separation. 
 
 Around this library a long low room, 
 with windows on opposite sides ran an old- 
 fashioned wainscoting reaching half-way to 
 the ceiling. The paper was a faded green, 
 dotted with enormous roses, once crimson, 
 but which during seventy years had faded to 
 the palest pink. There were cases filled 
 with books, and above them hung family 
 portraits and some quaint old prints. An 
 enormous chimney, with panels to the ceil 
 ing and cupboards at the sides, filled one end 
 of the apartment. 
 
 Stephen, in a further corner, was adorning 
 the surface of a kite. This kite, a preten 
 tious structure, was the result of long hours 
 of labor. The only sounds in the room came 
 from the squeaking goose-quill moving swiftly 
 across the paper, with occasional movements 
 from Stephen as he applied the colors to the 
 " Daisy Flyer." Steve was no artist, and 
 once, when the writer turned to see how the 
 work progressed, he smiled at the gaudy 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 masses that represented, in the painter's mind, 
 a lady with golden wings. One indigo eye, 
 from excess of color, had traversed cheek and 
 neck. The space for the mouth had been 
 forgotten, and the yellow wings were flutter 
 ing in unwished-for places. Cato, slumbrous 
 and with blinking eyes, sat close by his mas 
 ter's feet. Occasionally he moved an admir 
 ing glance from the kite to Stephen's face. 
 
 This peaceful silence, whose only interrup 
 tion within half an hour had been the tem 
 porary visit of a humming-bird, at last was 
 harshly broken. In the vicinity of the kite 
 there was a rapid movement, with a peculiar 
 sound from Cato as if he had received a 
 kick ; a snapping of wood, a rending of paper, 
 all followed by a flow of language that brought 
 the writer to his feet with an exclamation of 
 disgust. 
 
 This flow of language consisted almost 
 exclusively of curses. The kite with the 
 lady on its surface was denounced in reckless 
 terms. The Almighty and our Saviour were 
 blasphemously insulted, these holy names, in 
 the lavish and unconsidered invective, becom 
 ing themselves the objects of their own anath- 
 157 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 ema. And from the startling frequency of 
 the word " damn " and from its superfluous 
 repetition, it was obvious that the speaker 
 employed it not only for the meaning con 
 veyed, but because of its welcome sound. 
 The malodorousness of the most sacred char 
 acters of Christianity was repeatedly alluded 
 to, and with no attempt at refinement. 
 
 With the first sentence of this triumph of 
 blasphemy Bessie started to her feet, horror- 
 stricken and doubting her own senses. The 
 revolting language, all swiftly uttered in a 
 reckless fury, had for its accompaniment a 
 whirlwind of paper, sticks, and kite tail, 
 Stephen dancing in the centre with revolving 
 arms, beside himself with passion. 
 
 Cato, from beneath a distant table, looked 
 on in pained astonishment, and fixed inquiring 
 eyes upon Dr. Thome. 
 
 The commotion ended as suddenly as it 
 began. Stephen staggered from the wreck, 
 drawing the back of his hand across his fore 
 head. His face was very white. Defiantly 
 and with sullen rage his eyes for an instant 
 met the gaze of Dr. Thorne ; then he lowered 
 his face as if in shame. 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " Are you mad ? " 
 
 There was no answer. 
 
 " Are you mad ? Do you suppose such 
 language is permitted in this house ? Or in 
 any other ? " 
 
 Stephen looked up. His lips, now dry and 
 colorless, made the motions of replying, but 
 no sound came forth. 
 
 u You understand ? " said Dr. Thome, 
 with a severity in terrifying contrast to his 
 usual gentleness. " Even to have such 
 thoughts is disgraceful. To utter them an 
 unpardonable offence not only against re 
 ligion but against decency and against your 
 friends." 
 
 Stephen tried to speak, and had to moisten 
 his lips. His voice was hoarse, and came 
 with difficulty. 
 
 " What did I say ? " 
 
 " What did you say ! Do you suppose 
 any self-respecting person is going to repeat 
 it ? " 
 
 In a firmer voice, unmistakably sincere, 
 and with a troubled expression, he said : 
 " Really, sir $ really I don't know what I 
 said." 
 
 '59 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " Then are you crazy ? Are you a blas 
 phemer so callous and irresponsible that 
 you have already forgotten ? " 
 
 The blasphemer closed his eyes, and 
 again drew the back of a hand across his 
 forehead. 
 
 u I guess I 'm crazy, like ma." 
 
 " Better if you were crazy than do it 
 knowingly." 
 
 Steve made no defence. 
 
 " What J s that about your mother ? You 
 say crazy like her ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Was she had she such fits of temper ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, sir ! And she was crazy mad 
 when she had 'em." Then, with a mourn 
 ful glance toward the remnants of the kite, 
 the kite upon which he and Billy Brewster 
 had spent several afternoons of enthusiastic 
 labor, u She used to smash things too. She 
 came near killin' dad, and more 'n once." 
 
 In a gentler voice, reflectively, as if com 
 muning with himself, Dr. Thorne inquired, 
 " So your mother had similar attacks ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 Dr. Thorne returned to his chair, and for 
 1 60 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 a moment sat in silence. Then he called 
 Stephen to his side, and as he listened to 
 certain anecdotes of Mrs. Wadsworth, of her 
 murderous fury, and of how father and son, 
 habitually and by a previous understanding, 
 seized and held her for common safety until 
 reason returned, his anger gave place to pity. 
 And Steve, thoroughly ashamed of his be 
 havior, received words of consolation and 
 advice. Then, collecting the scattered frag 
 ments of the kite, he left the library, the for 
 giving Cato at his heels. 
 
 Dr. Thorne went over to the window, and 
 standing by his daughter, they discussed this 
 matter, deciding to aid their guest by gentle 
 means toward a mastery of himself. 
 
 " Such a temper," said the father, " is an 
 awful heritage, too heavy for human resist 
 ance. Poor Steve ! I sometimes think him 
 specially ordained, by inheritance and training, 
 for a life of crime. His very virtues are 
 against him. Courage, self-reliance, and a 
 love of freedom and adventure make a dan 
 gerous balance-wheel to a perverted con 
 science. And with his health and strength it 
 is all the harder to be good." 
 ii 161 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 As he stood by her chair, both looking out 
 into the garden, they went on to other sub 
 jects, each avoiding the one that lay heaviest 
 in their hearts, the parting, perhaps forever, 
 that was soon to come. 
 
 Long after he had returned to his work, 
 Bessie's hands lay idle in her lap, her eyes 
 moving sadly from the old garden to the 
 little cemetery on the hill, then to her parent 
 at the table, whose life, as she now reviewed 
 it, seemed one unvarying record of kindly 
 deeds, of unresting charity and of self-for- 
 getfulness. 
 
 The sun, now sinking in the west, was 
 creeping slowly across the carpet, when a 
 door from the hall opened very slowly and 
 very little. Dr. Thorne, who chanced in a 
 reflective moment to be looking in that direc 
 tion, saw the maid, with a warning glance 
 toward Bessie, anxiously beckon him to come 
 out. He obeyed. 
 
 On the porch stood a group of men. At 
 the end of the path, outside the gate, were 
 other people, men, women, and children, a)l 
 silent and with solemn faces, looking ear 
 nestly toward the house. The spokesman, as 
 162 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Dr. Thorne approached, removed his hat and 
 stood aside. Upon a rudely constructed litter 
 lay a human form, the face reverently hidden 
 by a cloth. 
 
 u He was found in the woods about an 
 hour ago at the foot of Beeman's Ledge, by 
 a couple o' boys. He probably slipped from 
 the rocks, and must 'a' fell nigh onto a hun 
 dred feet." 
 
 As he spoke, the cloth was removed, and 
 Dr. Thorne looked down upon the cold, 
 white face of Captain Chauncey. 
 
 163 
 
VIII 
 
 DELATING to this death were circum 
 stances which invited explanation. 
 
 The narrowest part of the ledge the 
 point where Captain Chauncey's hat was 
 found and at whose base lay the body 
 was fully two yards wide, and although a 
 hundred feet from the rocks beneath was 
 never regarded as a hazardous path. By the 
 inhabitants of Upper Lynstock it was fre 
 quently travelled as a shorter cut to the 
 larger village. Captain Chauncey himself had 
 trodden it twenty times at least this very 
 summer in going to Willow Pond, and on 
 this particular day there appeared no signs of 
 unusual peril. It was not slippery, and no 
 portion of the shelf had given way. 
 
 His felt hat, a light pearl-gray in color, 
 was lying a yard or more from the edge of 
 the precipice, and bore unmistakable marks 
 of having been ground into the earth by a 
 
 64 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 heel with iron nails. This suggested vio 
 lence, as he could hardly have done it him 
 self in an accidental fall. Nothing else was 
 found upon the ledge. His fishing-rod with 
 nickel-plated joints, which he carried when 
 he left the house, had disappeared. The 
 most thorough search in the neighborhood 
 of his body and also about the ledge de 
 veloped no trace of it. 
 
 The body lay directly beneath the ledge. 
 The back of the skull was broken in, pre 
 sumably by the fall, as no signs of blood 
 were visible either upon his hat or anywhere 
 in its vicinity. His cravat, the clothing 
 about his chest, and one sleeve were begrimed 
 and scraped with dirt, the rest of his apparel 
 being hardly soiled. The finger-nails of both 
 hands, being broken and filled with dirt, 
 gave evidence of desperate clutchings at 
 earth and rocks and bushes. 
 
 These facts excited comment, and com 
 ment led swiftly to suspicion, first of suicide, 
 then of foul play. The evidence, however, 
 while seemingly sufficient for either theory, 
 contradicted both. 
 
 No theory of suicide was accepted by 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 those who knew him. He was fond of life, 
 and his fear of death was more than whole 
 some. The idea of murder appeared equally 
 unreasonable, as he had no enemies in the 
 village, and his pockets were undisturbed. 
 His watch and a few dollars still remained 
 upon his person. Nobody in Lynstock 
 seemed likely to commit a murder for a 
 fishing-rod, especially as its discovery might 
 send the possessor to the gallows. Taken 
 altogether, it was a death that formed a thrill 
 ing mystery. 
 
 On the day of the funeral, from early 
 morning until late at night, a heavy rain, 
 varying only in its degrees of copiousness, 
 saturated the village and formed generous 
 puddles along its streets and sidewalks. 
 
 The services were at the house, Dr. Thorne 
 officiating. 
 
 A prayer was offered by the bishop. This 
 prayer, considering the bishop's low esteem 
 for the spirit previously animating the re 
 mains before him, was a non-committal 
 triumph. While cautious, it appeared be 
 nignly comprehensive. In so far as it 
 concerned the deceased, this prayer could 
 1 66 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 have been offered with equal fitness at the 
 funeral of Florence Nightingale or of 
 Captain Kidd. 
 
 The task of Dr. Thorne was far less simple. 
 A more specific application is expected in a 
 eulogy, and Captain Chauncey had earned 
 his sincere contempt, a contempt that was 
 hearty and without reservation. Moreover 
 the death which it was now his office to pub 
 licly regret, could not fail to prove a bless 
 ing to his daughter and an unspeakable relief 
 to all who loved her. But the speaker was 
 no novice. With skilful emphasis he touched 
 upon those faults of which the deceased was 
 guiltless, dwelling kindly upon the fact that 
 in this sudden death they had lost a refined, 
 intelligent companion, a seeker after knowl 
 edge, a temperate, dignified, law-abiding 
 citizen. And this he could do with truth, 
 wishing his hearers to forget, at least for the 
 time, that this same son-in-law had been 
 ungrateful, mean, and cruel ; that he was a 
 domestic bully, useless, offensively selfish, and 
 impossible to live with. In these remarks he 
 thought principally of his mourning daughter. 
 This daughter, whose sensitive conscience 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 upbraided her for having withheld that per 
 fect love and confidence which the ideal wife 
 should lavish upon a husband, was crushed 
 with grief; and this grief was now more tor 
 turing than if her husband had been a better 
 man. 
 
 Aunt Lorinda, her face invisible behind a 
 veil, seemed a model of self-control ; while 
 Steve, in his Sunday suit of black with a 
 broad white collar, sat demurely near the 
 foot of the coffin and comported himself with 
 becoming solemnity. Once, however, as 
 Dr. Thome, during a pause in his remarks, 
 happened to look down into his face, he was 
 greeted by an intent, somewhat puzzled ex 
 pression, quickly followed by a half-suppressed 
 smile, which at the moment he regarded 
 merely as a boyish recognition. 
 
 On returning from the cemetery the discon 
 solate Bessie sought seclusion in her chamber, 
 Aunt Lorinda, with Dr. Thorne and the 
 bishop, passing on into the library. 
 
 As they entered this room, where the mel 
 ancholy silence of a recent death still held 
 possession, the irrepressible aunt was the first 
 to speak. 
 
 168 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " Death is an awful thing, although this 
 bereavement does strengthen my faith in the 
 watchfulness of Providence." 
 
 " Aunt Lorinda ! " exclaimed Dr. Thorne. 
 " Respect the dead ! " 
 
 " Oh, come now, William," she retorted, 
 turning about and confronting her two distin 
 guished nephews, " you are much too good ! 
 You know as well as anybody that he was 
 the curse of Bessie's life. And of yours 
 too ! Any show of grief from those who 
 care for that girl is a transparent sham. 
 We 've put on black and seen him properly 
 buried, all with solemn faces and a decent 
 show of grief, which is more than he would 
 have done for us. And now, I say, all who 
 have any regard for our Bessie are inwardly 
 rejoicing." 
 
 Turning suddenly to the bishop, she de 
 manded, 
 
 " Am I right, John, or not ? " 
 
 The bishop raised his eyebrows and stroked 
 his handsome chin. 
 
 u Well," he answered reflectively. " Pos 
 sibly, in a sense. But there is a solemnity 
 in death " 
 
 169 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 u Solemnity in rubbish ! You parsons are 
 more timid than mice. Forget that you are 
 a bishop and for once in your life give an 
 honest opinion ! " 
 
 Dr. Thorne could not repress a smile. 
 
 " That 's into you, John." 
 
 "You both know," continued Aunt Lo- 
 rinda, untying the strings of her bonnet with 
 decisive fingers, " that this sudden taking off 
 was no accident. It was the punishment of 
 God ! " 
 
 A movement in a farther corner of the 
 room caused all to look in that direction. 
 From a spacious chair whose back was to 
 ward them, Stephen emerged and came 
 slowly toward the group. In his hand was 
 a book, and at his heels walked Cato. He 
 had never appeared so intensely respecta 
 ble so genteel and outwardly moral as 
 now. In his Sunday suit of black, which he 
 had donned for the funeral, with its knee- 
 breeches, long stockings, and expansive linen 
 collar, he suggested a Van Dyck portrait as 
 he stood, book in hand, against the gloom be 
 hind, the side-light from the windows leaving 
 half his face in shadow. 
 170 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 u It was n't any accident, 'cause I did it." 
 
 Dr. Thorne frowned. 
 
 " Did what ? " 
 
 " Pushed Captain Chauncey off the ledge." 
 
 Aunt Lorinda took a backward step and 
 sank into the nearest chair. Her parted lips 
 lost what little color they possessed. 
 
 " You pushed him off! " she exclaimed, in 
 a voice hardly above a whisper. 
 
 Steve nodded, a boastful, swaggering nod ; 
 and he smiled as if enjoying her surprise. 
 
 Although she knew the boy to be a liar, there 
 was something in his face and manner at the 
 present moment that deprived her of the power 
 of speech. Dr. Thorne with contracted brows 
 regarded him intently, as if refusing to believe. 
 He also knew him to be a liar, but he had 
 learned to recognize those occasions when 
 Truth and Stephen were together, and this 
 was one of them. 
 
 " What do you mean, Stephen ? " he 
 
 asked in a constrained voice, in a tone more 
 
 anxious than severe. " You do not mean 
 
 to say that you killed Captain Chauncey ? " 
 
 V Yes, sir." 
 
 Vhere was less boastfulness in this answer, 
 171 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 as the three pairs of eyes, all fixed intently 
 upon his own in a sudden horror, had pro 
 duced a sobering effect. 
 
 The black bonnet slipped from Aunt Lo- 
 rinda's fingers to the floor. She clutched the 
 arms of her chair, but said nothing. As for 
 the bishop, he stood staring at the boy, un 
 able to reconcile this confession of a mon 
 strous crime with a pair of eyes so overladen 
 with purity and honor. Even Dr. Thorne, 
 more familiar with Stephen's moral machinery, 
 was still unable to believe. 
 
 u It was, of course, an accident," he said. 
 
 Steve shook his head slowly, but with a 
 sidelong movement to add emphasis to the 
 negative. 
 
 "You lost your temper, and became ir 
 responsible ? " 
 
 "No, sir. I did it on purpose. I did it 
 for Mrs. Chauncey." 
 
 " What do you mean by that ? " 
 
 " I mean because Mrs. Chauncey would 
 never be happy again until he was dead." 
 Turning to Aunt Lorinda, he added, " That 
 very morning you said, c There '11 be no hap 
 piness for Bessie while that man lives.' " 
 172 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Aunt Lorinda straightened up as if to 
 speak, but sank back into her chair, and 
 bowed her head. Steve saw the movement. 
 
 "'TwaVt that alone," he added hastily, 
 to relieve her from all responsibility. " I 
 was n't tryin' to lay it off onto you. I knew 
 it anyway, from lots of things." 
 
 For this the lady gave acknowledgment 
 by a motion of the head. 
 
 " Was that your only motive ? " asked Dr. 
 Thorne. 
 
 " Yes, sir, it was." 
 
 Dr. Thorne drew a long breath and closed 
 his eyes. In the pause that followed, Stephen 
 leaned back against the table, studying the 
 cover of his book, " The Last of the Mohi 
 cans." Cato came a little nearer, looking 
 up into his face inquiringly, as one who began 
 to be bored. 
 
 Then," said Dr. Thorne, still hoping for 
 the best, " you can tell us what became of his 
 fishing-rod." 
 
 " Yes, sir. It 's up in the attic." 
 
 " Did you bring it home yourself? " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Run up and fetch it." 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 As Steve left the room with Cato at his 
 heels, two questioning faces turned anxiously 
 to Dr. Thorne. 
 
 " Can it be ? " whispered Aunt Lorinda. 
 
 A shake of the head as if in doubt was the 
 only answer. 
 
 " Impossible ! " exclaimed the bishop. 
 
 Stephen's feet, clearing two steps at a jump 
 as he ascended the stairs, were all that broke 
 the silence. 
 
 " It is certainly hard to accept," said Dr. 
 Thorne, at last, " yet I fear he is telling the 
 truth." Then with the deepest feeling he 
 added, u Poor child ! I would give much to 
 prove that he was not ! " 
 
 Steve in the mean time descended from 
 the attic, the missing fishing-rod in his hand. 
 As he passed the open door of Bessie's 
 chamber, she recognized the familiar article 
 and started to her feet. But the bearer in 
 another instant was out of hearing, and scam 
 pering down the stairs. 
 
 When this bit of evidence was placed in 
 Dr. Thome's unwilling hands, his face grew 
 sadder and he regarded it with a melancholy 
 frown. He told Steve to lay it on the table. 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Steve obeyed, remaining in his old position, 
 the three sable figures in a line before him. 
 
 The bishop, erect and impassive, one hand 
 upon the back of Aunt Lorinda's chair, un 
 able to believe yet knowing he heard the 
 truth, was the next to speak. 
 
 " Had you already decided upon this deed, 
 and were only waiting an opportunity to 
 accomplish it ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! " Steve answered quickly. " I 
 never thought of it till just that minute. 
 We were walking along, and just before we 
 got to that narrow place, where it 's so awful 
 high and makes you dizzy to look over, I 
 thought what an awful thing it would be for 
 either of us to slip off; and then, right at the 
 same time, I remembered that if be should 
 slip off it would be a mighty good thing for 
 Mrs. Chauncey." 
 
 " Go on. Tell us just how it happened." 
 
 u So I got all ready and kept right up close 
 to him, on the inside. And I had to brace 
 up 'cause it wa' n't no it wa' n't a easy 
 job, either, as he might grab me and take me 
 over too ; and if I did n't push hard enough, 
 he 'd finish me afterwards, I guess." 
 175 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 As the narrator appeared to expect some 
 recognition of the risks he undertook, the 
 funereal auditors before him all acknowledged 
 by look or gesture their appreciation of the 
 hazard. And this acknowledgment was sin 
 cere. Whatever their opinions as to the 
 righteousness of the deed, no doubt could 
 exist regarding the boldness of its conception. 
 Mistaking their close attention for approval, 
 he laid his book upon the table, that his hands 
 might be free, and illustrated by occasional 
 attitudes and gestures the position of the ledge 
 and of Captain Chauncey, and how the vic 
 tory was achieved. 
 
 " Just at the narrowest part," he continued, 
 u where I meant to do it, he kept further in 
 from the edge than I counted on, but I thought 
 I 'd risk it, and I give I gave him an awful 
 push, just my whole weight and I ducked. 
 'T was lucky I did, for he clutched at my 
 head and pulled my hat off. I could n't see 
 him when I ducked, but he must have kinder 
 turned around tryin' to recover himself, I 
 guess and he fell just on the edge, facing 
 in, my way. He slid over and held on by 
 his hands and one elbow. He was awful 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 white, scared lookin'. His chin was on the 
 edge and helped hold him up. He thought 
 at first it was accident, I guess, for he said, 
 ' Quick, Steve, put your sleeve in my teeth 
 and pull ! ' But of course I did n't. His 
 fingers quivered and slipped, and I saw he 
 could hardly hold on, so I shook my head 
 like that to say I would n't." 
 
 He paused as if the tale were ended, 
 studying the knuckles of his left hand, an 
 action which Dr. Thorne had learned to rec 
 ognize as an indication of embarrassment. 
 
 "Go on," he said gently. "Tell us 
 everything, Stephen." 
 
 Looking down, then up, and rubbing the 
 back of his hand across his forehead, the 
 narrator showed signs of agitation, the first 
 during the interview. 
 
 " His face was awful white, and he looked 
 at me hard scared and mad both and 
 kind of whispered, for his voice wouldn't 
 come." 
 
 " What did he say ? " 
 
 Stephen hesitated. 
 
 " What did he say ? You might as well 
 tell us all." 
 
 12 177 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 There was a pause, but when the answer 
 came it bore an ominous significance to those 
 familiar with Captain Chauncey's prediction. 
 
 " He said, c So you are a murderer ! ' " 
 
 This swift fulfilment of a heartless proph 
 ecy brought a chill of awe to Aunt Lorinda. 
 With a new terror she regarded Stephen, who 
 turned partly away and looked through a dis 
 tant window, out into the rain beyond. Cato, 
 divining perhaps the necessity of encourage 
 ment, licked the hand that was nearest, thus 
 notifying his comrade that one friend re 
 mained whose sentiments were unaltered. 
 
 u And then did he let go and disap 
 pear ? " asked Aunt Lorinda, in a low voice. 
 
 "Yes, ma'am. The whole business was 
 only a minute. You see there wa' n't any 
 place underneath for his feet, and his elbow 
 kept slippin' off, so he just had to go." 
 
 There was a silence; then the bishop took 
 a forward step, folded his hands behind him, 
 and in a manner not unkind yet suitably 
 terrifying thus addressed the malefactor, 
 
 " The enormity of this crime is evidently 
 beyond your present comprehension. You 
 fail to realize what you have done. If you 
 178 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 did, you would be fleeing from the haunts of 
 men with the shadow of the gallows across 
 your path. Do you know the punishment 
 for the crime of murder ? " 
 
 Steve, deeply impressed either by the words 
 or by the sonorousness of their delivery, had 
 grown uneasy, and now looked up with a hos 
 tile frown. But he did not answer. 
 
 " For a man," continued the bishop, " the 
 punishment is death ; for you, the peni 
 tentiary." 
 
 Now, this boy had heard of penitentiaries, 
 from another boy, who had been there, and he 
 made a swift resolve never to enter one alive. 
 As for Dr. Thorne, he regretted the bishop's 
 speech, having in mind quite a different plan 
 for bringing the sinner to a realization of his 
 offence. 
 
 But the speaker continued, 
 
 " Suppose the rest of us should take it upon 
 ourselves to rid the world of those against 
 whom we had the slightest grievance. Sup 
 pose " 
 
 " But there was n't any grievance ! " in 
 terrupted Steve. " We were good enough 
 friends ! I did n't do it for myself 5 I did 
 179 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 it " He stopped, his glance moving sud 
 denly to the door behind the bishop. The 
 others looked about, and from Aunt Lorinda 
 came an exclamation, 
 
 " Bessie ! You here ! " 
 
 Standing in the doorway, pale, one hand 
 against her cheek, Bessie's eyes wandered 
 excitedly from Stephen's face to those about 
 her. Taking a step toward her father, she 
 exclaimed, in a voice scarcely louder than 
 a whisper, 
 
 " Can it be ! Can it be ! " 
 
 Dr. Thorne took one of her hands in his. 
 " Why, darling, your fingers are like ice ! 
 Go back to your room for a time. Steve was 
 only telling us how it happened." 
 
 " No ! I heard. It J s awful, awful ! " 
 
 She sank into a chair, her eyes, red from 
 weeping, fixed in terror upon the face of her 
 youthful adorer. Dr. Thorne observed it. 
 Turning to the boy, he said in a gentler 
 tone, 
 
 " Go to your chamber, Steve, and remain 
 until I send for you." 
 
 Stephen, in passing near her as he left the 
 room, stopped, looked somewhat timidly into 
 1 80 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 her face, and was about to speak, when she 
 shrank backward, overturning the chair as 
 she rose to her feet. In so doing she breathed 
 a word, inaudibly, and perhaps unconsciously, 
 a word that Steve could only guess at. From 
 the movement of her lips and what little he 
 could hear, he guessed it to be "murderer." 
 
 Into his own face it brought an expression 
 which rarely came there, an expression of 
 dismay and of fading courage. He lowered 
 his eyes; then, with a slight movement of 
 the lips, he left the room. 
 
 There were callers that evening, relatives 
 and friends, and the hour was late when Dr. 
 Thorne retired, having had no time for talk 
 ing with the evil-doer. 
 
 The next morning, as he dressed, he went 
 over in his mind the most effective argu 
 ments for this misguided boy. He fully 
 realized the necessity of gentleness and 
 diplomacy. 
 
 Knowing this to be a crisis in his guest's 
 
 career, he regretted the bishop's mistaken 
 
 effort at intimidation ; and this regret became 
 
 a sudden apprehension as he espied a note 
 
 ill 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 beneath his chamber door. Who but Steve 
 would place it there ? 
 
 He picked it up and adjusted his glasses. 
 
 DR. THORNE, Good by. I will not go to a 
 pentenshary which is the same as prison. I am 
 much obliged to you for my nice visit. 
 Affectionately yours, 
 
 STEPHEN WADSWORTH. 
 
 The front door was found unlocked. He 
 had departed either late at night or very early 
 in the morning, as no one in the town had seen 
 him pass. 
 
 The only positive information was given 
 that evening by the village doctor. Four 
 miles from Lynstock, in the uncertain light 
 of early dawn, he had met a mud-stained boy 
 with a dog following closely at his heels. Both 
 marched with drooping heads and through a 
 soaking rain. 
 
 182 
 
IX 
 
 the fugitives no trace was found ; no 
 clue whatever save the misty appari 
 tion reported by the village doctor. Although 
 the expressman of a neighboring village had 
 noticed a vicious-looking dog as he hovered 
 about a freight-train, his description of the 
 boy who accompanied him was too indefinite 
 to be of value; and his observations of the 
 dog were only from a distance, as he took 
 especial care to avoid a close acquaintance. 
 
 To Dr. Thorne this disappearance was a 
 serious blow. He felt the gravest anxiety in 
 regard to Stephen's future, knowing well the 
 influence of associates for good and for evil 
 in the development of such a character. But 
 all efforts to find him were in vain. Days, 
 weeks, and months went by, and brought no 
 news; yet the faithful friend never quite 
 gave up the search. While still remember 
 ing and always on the watch for the name or 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 face of Stephen Wadsworth, his hope grew 
 fainter as the years went by. 
 
 Whatever the effects upon Steve himself 
 of his unpardonable crime, its results, as felt 
 by others, were far from melancholy. In 
 the home at Lynstock there came a perma 
 nent peace ; a renewal of the old relations, 
 affectionate and without restraint, that in 
 time brought the color to Bessie's cheeks. 
 And the old-time laughter again was heard. 
 Aunt Lorinda, when alone with her nephew, 
 had more than once declared that Stephen 
 was a messenger from Heaven, and that she 
 often mentioned him in her prayers. It gave 
 her pleasure to repeat a famous line which 
 Dr. Thorne had often quoted, 
 
 "Whatever is, is right." 
 
 On one occasion, as they were walking 
 home together beneath the elms of Lynstock, 
 she thus expressed herself, 
 
 " If I were a youthful beauty and Alfred 
 Chauncey and Stephen Wadsworth should 
 present themselves as suitors, do you suppose 
 that I would hesitate between them ? " 
 
 "Well, I don't know, Aunt Lorinda. 
 184 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 But I do know one thing j and that is that 
 the one you did n't like would not be long in 
 doubt." 
 
 " Do you think I would hesitate a minute 
 between a highly respectable, cowardly, lying, 
 lazy, domestic bully and an open-hearted 
 murderer, especially if he were, like Stephen, 
 courageous, straightforward, and affectionate ? 
 Not for one minute ! " 
 
 "Aunt Lorinda, you are hard upon the 
 dead. Remember, nil nisi bonum" 
 
 " Rubbish ! The bad were no better for 
 now being dead. Would you hesitate your 
 self?" 
 
 "We are not called upon to decide that 
 question." 
 
 " / am. And I know, and you know, you 
 would rather see Bessie in her grave than 
 married to another Alfred Chauncey." 
 
 Dr. Thorne made no reply. 
 
 " Whereas Stephen," she continued, " with 
 all his badness, and Heaven knows he was 
 bad enough ! had something that made you 
 side with him, something you could n't help 
 respecting. You can admit that^ I suppose, 
 without endangering your soul ? " 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Her nephew smiled. 
 
 " Yes ; I admit that." 
 
 His affection for the vanished murderer, 
 although founded upon a short acquaintance, 
 was solid and enduring. 
 
 But to Dr. Thorne there came a trial of a 
 somewhat peculiar nature, and, in a sense, of 
 his own creation. It even threatened to prove 
 an obstacle to his usefulness. 
 
 Frequent allusion, in his sermons and in 
 private conversations, to the present comings 
 of Our Saviour, while always doubted by the 
 majority of his hearers, was at first accepted 
 as the innocent hallucination of a poetic but 
 over-credulous spirit. As years went on, this 
 persistent faith in the testimony of a nameless 
 witness came to be regarded as a mental weak 
 ness ; and Dr. Thorne discovered by degrees 
 that, instead of being welcomed as the herald 
 of a glorious truth, he had become an object 
 of compassion, and, at times, of ridicule. 
 Those whose intimacy justified the liberty 
 told him gently of his error. And then, in 
 duty to himself and to his faith, he announced 
 that he himself was the recipient of this visit, 
 that when in doubt whether to remain with 
 1 86 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 his parish or devote his life to the criminal 
 classes, Christ in person had appeared before 
 him and hastened the decision. 
 
 This confession, instead of satisfying his 
 friends, had merely convinced them that he 
 himself, and not the nameless witness was 
 the innocent victim of a delusion; all the 
 more regrettable because of his splendid at 
 tainments and his previous sanity. But in 
 this case as with many others the believer's 
 tenacity or conviction was stronger than 
 human argument. And he yielded not. 
 
 His knowledge of the world, however, 
 and his broad experience soon taught him 
 that to persist meant the ruin of his use 
 fulness. Nevertheless, in private when the 
 occasion justified, when those in affliction 
 would accept this consolation, he never 
 hesitated to impart it. 
 
 For this compulsory silence there were 
 compensations in the happiness of his 
 daughter. It was five or six years after 
 Captain Chauncey's death that Bessie for the 
 second time ventured forth upon the sands of 
 matrimony. But between Captain Chauncey 
 and Mr. Robert Fletcher there was little re- 
 187 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 semblance. This second husband possessed 
 but a single fault, of domestic import, 
 and even that was not his own. It was the 
 nature of his business. Being a civil engi 
 neer, his absences from home were frequent, 
 and sometimes of long duration. These 
 very absences, while a trial to the wife, were 
 a gain to Dr. Thorne, as Bobbie, the mar 
 vellous, unexampled grandchild, became in 
 such emergencies the companion of his 
 grandfather. Together they drove and 
 walked and played ; they visited museums, 
 panoramas, and the animals in the park. 
 
 One eventful afternoon in May, as they 
 turned the corner of Fourth Avenue and 
 Twenty-sixth Street, Bobbie pulled hard 
 upon the hand that held his own, and 
 brought his comrade to a halt. 
 
 " Look ! " 
 
 There was excitement in his voice, and he 
 pointed across the way. 
 
 Dr. Thorne looked. His eyes encoun 
 tered a colossal pictorial presentment, in 
 vivid colors, of the scene within the build 
 ing as youthful hopes would have it. 
 
 In the nearest foreground an elephant en- 
 til 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 circled with his trunk a Royal Bengal tiger, and 
 pressed him to a gory death against his tusks. 
 A second tiger lay crushed beneath his feet, 
 while a third had sprung upon his flanks and 
 was crawling upward toward the undaunted 
 Orientals in the gold and crimson howdah. 
 This episode, ignored by the other figures in 
 its vicinity, had for its background an en 
 trancing medley of lions and baby elephants, 
 of clowns and Roman races, of zebras, 
 hippopotami, and giraffes ; of spotted ponies, 
 gigantic anacondas, and tutored pigs, all 
 apparently on terms of friendly intimacy. 
 The air above was palpitant with acrobats in 
 dazzling colors, with human cannon-balls, 
 and maids in silken nakedness, wingless but 
 serene. 
 
 " Grandpa, do they do all those things ? " 
 Dr. Thorne, knowing that tigers were ex 
 pensive, and being familiar with certain laws 
 of gravitation, hesitated before replying. 
 But no reply was needed at least from 
 him. 
 
 Beside them stood a group of ragamuffins, 
 three of whom were even younger than Bobbie. 
 The fourth was older, nearly seven, perhaps 
 189 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 ct Say, Patsey," said one of the diminutive, 
 " it ain't really just like that, o' course." 
 
 The older boy, in a hoarse voice, and in 
 pity for the ignorance of infancy, replied 
 sententiously, 
 
 u All what 's in that picture they does. 
 And more too." 
 
 Bobbie whispered in excitement : 
 
 " Did you hear that ? " 
 
 His grandfather nodded. 
 
 After another glance at the poster, Bobbie 
 looked up again into his comrade's face, and 
 said, in solemn tones, 
 
 " I have never seen a circus." 
 
 His grandfather winced. If the boy had 
 said, " I have never tasted food," the words 
 could have brought no deeper shame. For 
 Dr. Thorne was a human grandfather. He 
 had not only been a boy himself, but he 
 remembered, as if yesterday, the delirium of 
 his own first circus. 
 
 Bobbie saw his advantage and followed 
 it up. 
 
 "Let's go!" 
 
 Dr. Thorne looked away and tried to 
 think. He had many things to do that after- 
 190 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 noon, his weekly visit to an old man at 
 Avenue A, that meeting at the hospital 
 
 " Let 's go now / " cried the tempter. 
 " Yes ! oh, yes ! There are people going 
 in ! Quick ! Let 's hurry ! " 
 
 But the grandfather's conscience was still 
 awake. No ; he must be firm. Another 
 day would do as well. His duty first. 
 
 As this resolve was made he looked down 
 upon the upturned, eager face. The eyes were 
 sparkling with an irrepressible excitement; 
 also they seemed upon the verge of tears, 
 and there was a quivering of the under lip. 
 
 Five minutes later a big, benevolent face 
 with heavy eyelids, appeared at the little 
 window of the ticket-office. 
 
 " Have you two good seats, rather near ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; the best in the house." 
 
 And the agent, in violation of his usual 
 custom, shoved along the tickets before his 
 hand was on the money. 
 
 The seats were certainly good, but the 
 distinguished clergyman experienced a slight 
 annoyance at finding himself in the front row 
 of the front box in the very centre of the 
 building. 
 
 191 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Not since early youth had he seen the 
 circus, and now, as he found himself once 
 again beneath the spell of sawdust rings, of 
 trumpeting elephants, and of that reckless, 
 rejuvenating music that tosses fluffy ladies 
 into the enchanted air from horses' backs, he 
 felt a quickening of the blood, a revival of 
 boyish interest. And Bobbie's own enthu 
 siasm was in itself a stimulant. His excla 
 mations of delight and wonder were so 
 frequent and inspiriting that Dr. Thorne, 
 without realizing it, was seeing the circus 
 through his grandson's eyes ; and both en 
 joyed it in a proper spirit. The performing 
 elephants, the clowns, "The Champion 
 Equestrian Acts by Four Arenic Queens," 
 the Japanese balancers, the acrobats, the edu 
 cated donkey, and the other dazzling delights 
 were fully appreciated by the boy of six and 
 by his comrade of sixty-nine. 
 
 One performance proved of especial inter 
 est. A young man of fine physique, accom 
 panied by a girl of twenty or thereabouts, 
 she also in tights, but with a muslin fluffi- 
 ness about the hips and a yellow rose in her 
 hair, were swung high aloft to the flying 
 192 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 trapeze. Upon the program they figured as 
 the " Electrifying Bondinellis, whose Aerial 
 Flights at Dizzy Altitudes, and whose hand to 
 hand Catches in Space are the Wonder of 
 Two Continents." 
 
 And the program in this case did not 
 exaggerate. During these aerial flights Dr. 
 Thorne gazed upward in silent fascination, 
 while Bobbie, in the intensity of excitement, 
 forgot to breathe. 
 
 This young man and girl sailed leisurely 
 through space with the easy confidence of 
 birds upon the wing. When they had at 
 tained a terrifying impetus upon a high 
 trapeze, he let go his hold and floated up 
 ward and away, turned over in the air, alfr 
 to the dreamy music of a waltz, and caught, 
 with careless ease, an approaching bar that 
 swung to meet him. Then, head downward, 
 hanging by his legs, he swung to and fro, a 
 tremendous distance. 
 
 The music stopped, and the girl in a 
 solemn silence shot away from her own 
 trapeze. 
 
 One half-suppressed scream was the only 
 sound from the human sea below them, and 
 '3 193 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 thousands of straining eyes followed the fly 
 ing figure in its course. And then, when 
 hope seemed lost, when the error of a sec 
 ond's time meant a terrible descent, the 
 strong arms of the living pendulum swung 
 forth to meet her and caught the outstretched 
 hands. 
 
 The band burst forth into a triumphant 
 air, and the vast audience, with a breath of 
 relief, broke out into a vigorous clapping. 
 
 As the trapeze swept backwards she clam 
 bered to the bar, and there, sitting aloft with 
 smiling faces, this empyrean youth and maiden 
 tossed to the audience beneath those volatile 
 kisses we receive only from circus-riders, 
 athletes, and the ladies of the ballet. 
 
 While the girl returned to earth by a rope, 
 the usual way, her companion climbed higher 
 still, to another bar, at the very summit of the 
 arching roof. There he stood up, and jumped. 
 Head foremost he started earthward, and half 
 way down he turned over twice, not nervously 
 or in haste, but leisurely, with a kind of bravado, 
 as if time, space, and the laws of gravitation 
 were unimportant trifles. With tremendous 
 force he landed in the net upon his back and 
 194 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 bounded upward over a dozen feet. The 
 second time he landed on his legs, clambered 
 to the edge, and lowered himself jauntily to 
 the ground. Here he rejoined the girl. 
 Then followed more applause, and in return 
 more finger-tip kisses were tossed to the 
 audience, which, instead of being far beneath, 
 now towered above them. 
 
 In stepping from the centre of the arena, 
 this dauntless couple, to avoid a flurry of in 
 coming horses, approached within fifty feet of 
 Dr. Thorne. He was watching them closely, 
 indulging in a hasty speculation as to the rare 
 mental and muscular outfit demanded in so 
 hazardous a vocation. 
 
 The youth, after carelessly scanning, as 
 he walked, the countless throng that arose 
 in tiers before them, met the gaze that 
 was fixed intently upon him. Both faces 
 brightened with a sudden recognition. Dr. 
 Thorne straightened up and leaned slightly 
 forward. 
 
 Yes ! There was no mistake. The honest 
 eyes of Stephen Wadsworth were smiling back 
 at him ! 
 
 And there was little change. Fourteen 
 195 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 years had simply developed without altering 
 either the contour or the character of his face. 
 But in the same instant he was gone, ob 
 scured with his companion in a confusion of 
 advancing horses. 
 
 196 
 
"IWHEN Dr. Thorne, on the following 
 "* day, returned home for his noonday 
 meal, he discovered that he had missed a visit 
 from the newly found Stephen. Knowing 
 there was a performance every afternoon and 
 evening, and as he himself was rarely at home 
 in the morning, he resolved to call at the 
 circus. So about three o'clock he betook 
 himself to the Fourth Avenue end of the 
 colossal building. Seeing an open door 
 through which a groom with two white 
 horses had just emerged, he entered. But a 
 man stepped before him with the informa 
 tion, politely given, that no strangers were 
 admitted. The visitor explained the object 
 of his errand, but was told the rules could 
 not be broken. As he took a card from his 
 pocket to write a line for Stephen, a thin, 
 sallow, black-bearded man stepped forward 
 and raised his hat. 
 
 " Can I do anything for you, Dr. Thorne ? " 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Then, in answer to an inquiring look, he 
 continued, 
 
 " You do not remember me, Simeon 
 Bassett ? " 
 
 " Not the Reverend Simeon Bassett, who 
 left for India to convert the heathen ? " 
 
 u Yes, sir ; the same." 
 
 "Well," said Dr. Thorne, I never 
 should have known you, Mr. Bassett. You 
 have grown a beard since then. But is n't it 
 a long jump from the missionary field to the 
 circus ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; but an easy one. I found 
 there was more profit and more peace of 
 mind in reforming animals than in wrestling 
 with the contented heathen." 
 
 " I am not surprised." 
 
 " I joined a company to furnish wild beasts 
 for menageries and well, it 's a long story. 
 But here I am, and I have been here for 
 three years." 
 
 " And all for the best, I have no doubt. 
 It may be hard on the animals, but the 
 heathen should be grateful." 
 
 Mr. Bassett smiled. 
 
 " Yes, I remember you said something 
 198 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 like that at the time. But I was younger 
 then, and bound to go. Some of us are 
 slower than others in learning to respect 
 other people's opinions. But is there any. 
 thing I can do for you here ? Did you 
 want to come in ? " 
 
 When Dr. Thorne told his errand, the ex- 
 missionary, who appeared to be a person in 
 authority, led him inside, begged him to make 
 himself at home, to come and go as he 
 pleased, and to remain as long as necessary. 
 Then, excusing himself, as his duties called 
 him below among the animals, he took his 
 leave. 
 
 Dr. Thorne, as he glanced about, could 
 easily have believed himself in a waiting- 
 room of the Circus Maximus, twenty centu 
 ries ago. The space itself, large, irregular, 
 with a high ceiling, was the area enclosed by 
 the outer corners of the building and the 
 long, curving wall of the amphitheatre. A 
 high archway opened into the arena. Two 
 solid gates closed the lower portion, but 
 above these could be seen the audience tower 
 ing tier above tier, the countless faces bathed 
 in a soft, warm light diffused by the canvas 
 199 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 awnings high above. Music, laughter, and 
 applause, with the snapping of whips and 
 occasional shouts of performers were dis 
 tinctly heard, while around him on every side 
 moved figures in strange attire, athletes, 
 who might have been gladiators from the 
 Colosseum ; two drivers in the chariot races, 
 whom he took at first for Roman matrons j a 
 man in a scarlet tunic, a fillet about his head ; 
 ladies of shimmering limbs and scant attire, 
 at home on the bareback horses ; clowns, 
 acrobats, and others, all strolling about or 
 standing in groups. A few, encased in ample 
 wrappers, always of the most vivid colors, 
 moved here and there as in the Baths of 
 Caracalla. Some were chatting and laugh 
 ing, others practising their tricks or limber 
 ing their muscles. And to his left, drawn 
 up in line against the wall, stood Roman 
 chariots, one of crimson, one of white, and 
 one of yellow, all with golden trimmings. 
 
 As he moved toward the arch, he was 
 startled by an unfamiliar object close beside 
 him, the pretty face of a girl, " The Cham 
 pion Female Contortionist, La Belle Zedora," 
 in tights, her supple form bent backward in a 
 200 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 circle ; and she looked pleasantly up at him 
 from between her lavender legs. In mild 
 astonishment he halted at this uncommon 
 spectacle, and as he did so the two heavy 
 gates were opened wide. 
 
 A band of actors for the high trapeze, 
 some jugglers, and a bevy of clowns skipped 
 out and away, and a pair of huge white 
 horses guided by a man in a yellow tunic 
 with silver bands, a foot on either steed, 
 dashed out into the arena. He was fol 
 lowed by another rider in different colors, 
 on a similar pair. And before the gates 
 were closed a troop of performers came run 
 ning in, athletes and tumblers in the gayest 
 tints, some tight-rope dancers, and a comic 
 family in evening dress : these, closely fol 
 lowed by liveried servants of the circus bear 
 ing three gigantic rolls of carpet just taken 
 from the rings. 
 
 These rolls of carpet were deposited near 
 the wall ; and upon one of them Dr. Thorne 
 found a comfortable seat upon which to wait 
 for Stephen. 
 
 Close beside him a clown in grotesquely 
 ample robes, black with orange stars and 
 201 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 crescents, as he fondled the ears of the 
 educated pig was arguing earnestly with 
 "Miss Leonie Latour, the Living Arrow." 
 A short distance from the closed gates, just 
 far enough away to see above them, was 
 gathered a group of acrobats, some in pink, 
 others in blue or white or lavender tights, 
 watching the performance on the high tra 
 peze. 
 
 A flood of light, and it seemed to Dr. 
 Thorne a flood of music, also, came down 
 through the arch and enveloped this brilliant 
 company. From two or three came a mut 
 tered " Ah ! " and a deep-chested, solid little 
 man, in creamy tights with a waist-cloth of 
 emerald green, added, 
 
 " Yes, and he missed it yesterday too." 
 
 A moment later, from the wild haste of 
 the music and the shouts beyond the gates, 
 the visitor knew that the four white horses 
 with their standing riders were having a 
 tumultuous finish to their race around the 
 long arena. 
 
 As he sat watching this scene, so novel 
 that it seemed unreal, he partook involunta 
 rily of its spirit, of its freedom, its brilliant 
 202 
 
Gloria Yictis 
 
 colors, and its repressed excitement. The 
 music, headlong, uplifting, and incessant, pre 
 vented any return to earth, and dispelled, for 
 a time at least, all memories of his ordinary 
 life. Even the errand that brought him here 
 was driven to the background. 
 
 Beside the long, curving wall that divided 
 this assembly-room from the arena, he no 
 ticed three figures as they came toward him, 
 a woman in a riding-habit with a scarlet 
 jacket ; another woman, slight, with delicate 
 features and dressed in black; and between 
 them a girl enveloped in a bright-colored 
 wrap, such as many of the circus women 
 threw about them when not performing. 
 These wraps were long and loose, completely 
 covering the figure, and generally of a bril 
 liant color. 
 
 The girl, a little below the usual height, 
 with black hair and a low forehead, had a 
 wide, short, juvenile face. Her eyes were 
 dark and far apart. To the observant 
 philosopher upon the roll of carpet it was an 
 attractive face, and one that aroused his inter 
 est. She seemed Italian or Spanish some 
 thing not American. But as they came 
 203 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 nearer he found that she was speaking Eng 
 lish fluently and without the slightest accent. 
 At the present moment she and the scarlet 
 equestrienne were laughing merrily, while the 
 older woman smiled in a perfunctory way, 
 more from a sense of duty than from any 
 inward pressure. 
 
 It seemed to Dr. Thorne he had seen this 
 girl before. A moment later he thought he 
 recognized her as the person who accom 
 panied Stephen in his celestial excursions. 
 Regarding her more carefully, he began to be 
 sure of it. There, too, was the yellow rose 
 in her hair he had noticed yesterday. 
 
 As they came nearer, she laid a hand on the 
 older woman's arm, and, indicating the other 
 end of the carpet upon which he was sitting, 
 said in a pleasant voice, 
 
 " Sit there, mamma, and don't get so tired 
 as you did yesterday." 
 
 In doing this, the front of the yellow 
 wrap was opened, and he saw that she was 
 in tights. 
 
 Nodding his massive head in acquiescence, 
 Dr. Thorne returned the smile with which 
 her eyes met his, and edged farther along. 
 204 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 By a movement of the head and another 
 smile, simple and friendly, she thanked him j 
 then, after a word or two with her mother, 
 she and her companion turned away and con 
 tinued their walk. 
 
 He noticed, as he studied her with increas 
 ing interest, that her eyes were continually 
 wandering toward a little staircase in a dis 
 tant corner. This staircase, he decided, 
 from occasional male performers who de 
 scended it, led to the men's dressing-room 
 above. Her eyes seemed to travel in that 
 direction of their own accord, and he be 
 lieved that she would have been exceedingly 
 surprised, and perhaps embarrassed, had she 
 known that a casual observer detected the 
 eagerness of her watch. 
 
 Moreover, this casual observer, being some 
 what imaginative, wove a little romance. 
 
 She was in love with Stephen ! Of course! 
 How could it be otherwise ? When a girl is 
 launched into space twice a day with Death 
 below, and invariably rescued by an adoring 
 youth who never fails her, what other result 
 could be expected ? And he, cool, brave, 
 with arms of iron and always there ! She 
 205 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 knew probably that he would rather miss 
 a bar himself than be late at that aerial 
 rendezvous. 
 
 As for Stephen's loving her, why, the cool 
 observer himself was gently smitten, and 
 merely from sitting here and watching her. 
 
 Belief in this romance of his own con 
 struction was strengthened by a look that 
 came at last into the heroine's face. As her 
 glance for the twentieth time wandered fur 
 tively toward the stairs, there came a sudden 
 brightening of the eyes, as if illumined by a 
 welcome message; a smile, a familiar nod, 
 and Dr. Thorne, turning his own eyes in 
 the same direction, saw without surprise the 
 expected Stephen. 
 
 The young man, in pink tights, a dark 
 blue wrapper tossed carelessly over his arm, 
 strode with the swinging, half-clumsy gait of 
 the professional athlete toward the approaching 
 figures. The promise of a splendid physique 
 given in his boyhood by the compensating 
 Providence had been faithfully fulfilled. His 
 straight, full neck, deep chest, and muscular 
 limbs gave evidence of uncommon strength. 
 With the Acropolis for a background, he 
 206 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 would easily have passed at the present mo 
 ment for some Olympian hero. His face, 
 except that his chin and jaw were a trifle 
 fuller, seemed but little changed; and with his 
 greeting to his friends came the same frank, 
 friendly smile that Dr. Thorne had first en 
 countered in the little cemetery, fourteen 
 years ago, that Sunday morning when they 
 shook hands upon a bargain. 
 
 As the three were standing together, the 
 scarlet equestrienne, the girl in her yellow 
 wrap, and the athlete in his shimmering silken 
 tights, the ponderous visitor, a sombre con 
 trast in his every-day black, approached the 
 gorgeous trio, and touched the gladiator upon 
 the arm. 
 
 " Stephen Wadsworth ? " 
 
 The young man turned. His face lit up, 
 and he seized the extended hand. 
 
 " Why, Dr. Thorne ! " 
 
 Then followed expressions of surprise and 
 pleasure, with many questions. 
 
 The two women backed away and con 
 tinued their walk. Dr. Thorne looked ear 
 nestly into the clear gray eyes, now nearly on 
 a level with his own ; and he found they told 
 207 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 the same old tale of purity and truth, of child 
 like confidence and incorruptible honor. He 
 wondered if they were still misleading, and 
 into what paths of vice or virtue their owner's 
 peculiar morals had caused him to travel. 
 
 " And now tell me of yourself, Stephen. 
 You would not believe me if I should say 
 how often I have thought of you. Have you 
 been a good boy or a bad boy ? Tell me the 
 truth. You know you can trust me." 
 
 " Indeed I do ! " and Stephen began a 
 rapid history of his career. 
 
 But the whole space was now filling up 
 with mounted huntsmen in top hats and 
 scarlet coats, they and their horses crowding 
 every one against the wall. So the two 
 friends walked away along by the wall, and 
 Stephen told of his stealing a ride on a 
 train, and of his joining a travelling circus, 
 three days after leaving Lynstock ; of how 
 he and two other boys were taught somer 
 saults, the high trapeze, forming pyramids, 
 and various things 5 that he did this for four 
 or five years. Then for a time he gave up 
 the circus, but took it up again when he met 
 Filippa. 
 
 208 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Filippa ? Who is that ? " 
 
 u She is the girl I act with. You must 
 have seen her. She was talking with me just 
 now." 
 
 u Indeed I did ! And a most attractive 
 little person ! How long have you known 
 her ? " 
 
 " Oh, two years, about." 
 
 " Are you is she you are not mar 
 ried ? " 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 There was a silence; Stephen evidently 
 hesitating, but with something to impart. 
 Then, as they turned about to return, he 
 stopped and said earnestly, 
 
 " I want to marry Filippa, but her mother 
 won't let us." 
 
 " Why not ? Does n't she like you ? " 
 
 " No, she hates me." 
 
 u Why so, Stephen ? What have you 
 done ? " 
 
 " Nothing. She gives no reason, only says 
 she does n't trust me." 
 
 " Is Filippa willing ? " 
 
 Oh, yes ! Filippa 's all right ! " 
 
 Their eyes met and both smiled. The 
 14 209 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 older man saw, in the younger one's face, 
 the same outward manifestation of an in 
 ward content that he had observed in the 
 maiden a very few minutes before. 
 
 " Well, it 's too bad the parent is unwilling. 
 Are you sure she has no reason for it ? What 
 were you doing the three years you were out 
 of the circus business ? " 
 
 The lover hesitated. 
 
 " But she has no idea of what I was doing 
 then." 
 
 " Very likely, but what were you doing ? " 
 
 There was another silence, during which 
 Stephen looked down and picked at the band 
 of silver lace about his wrist. 
 
 " Come, tell me ! Perhaps I may help 
 you in this business. I certainly will if I 
 can." 
 
 The youth straightened up eagerly. 
 
 " Perhaps you can ! You might bring her 
 round ! " 
 
 " But I must first know the man I am to 
 bring her round to ; " and the big brown face 
 with the half-closed eyes moved slowly with 
 a negative shake. 
 
 " Well, sir, if you remember, you made me 
 210 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 promise that I would never steal again. It 
 was after I took the cook's money." 
 
 "Yes, I remember." 
 
 " I have kept that promise. I have never 
 stolen a thing since that day ; " and he raised 
 his face with a half-defiant movement, as if 
 prepared to have the statement doubted. 
 
 " I believe you, Stephen," was the quiet 
 answer. 
 
 "When I was dead broke and I needed 
 money, I fell foul of an old pal of dad's who 
 shoved the queer that is counterfeit 
 money." 
 
 " Yes, I know." 
 
 " He made it, and I shoved it. But it 
 was n't stealing." 
 
 " No, not literally, perhaps, but too near it 
 for moral comfort. You took what did n't 
 belong to you every time you passed it." 
 
 "Yes, sir, I know that, but I had big 
 temptations to break my promise literally, as 
 you say. I never did, though." 
 
 Dr. Thorne laid his hand on Stephen's 
 shoulder. 
 
 " My boy," he said gently, " I am not 
 blaming you, for I can guess at your tempta- 
 211 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 tions. I know the obstacles you had to over 
 come, and your regard for your promise is 
 greatly to your honor. How long is it since 
 you have ' shoved the queer ' ? " 
 
 " Not since I promised Filippa." 
 
 " Ah ! Then you told Filippa every 
 thing ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, everything." 
 
 u And still she is willing to marry you ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And that temper, have you outgrown 
 it ? " 
 
 Stephen's face became serious. He replied 
 in a melancholy tone and there was a note of 
 despair, 
 
 " No ; I suppose I never shall." 
 
 Dr. Thorne looked gravely into his friend's 
 eyes. " Have you told her that ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " The whole truth about it, of how 
 sudden, unreliable, and dangerous it is ? " 
 
 " Yes, everything." 
 
 " And even that makes no difference ? " 
 
 " No, sir, not a bit." 
 
 Dr. Thorne compressed his lips and looked 
 thoughtfully away. 
 
 212 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " How foolish women are ! " he muttered. 
 
 The lover smiled, straightened up, and 
 folded his arms across his chest. 
 
 " But I am just as foolish. Nothing 
 could prevent my marrying her^ either ! " 
 
 " Nothing that she could do, however 
 bad ? " 
 
 " No, sir j nothing ! " 
 
 His companion sighed. " Youth and 
 faith, what splendid things they are ! " 
 
 As they started on, there came from the 
 distant band a sudden pause; then, from 
 around the curving wall, a din as of in 
 numerable hammers, and again burst forth 
 the music, louder and faster than before. 
 
 What is all that, Stephen ? " 
 
 u Those hurdle-jumpers that we just left. 
 At a signal they all start at once ; the horses 
 know the signal and get excited. That 
 racket is their shoes on the wooden floor." 
 
 " Ah, yes, to be sure ! But tell me how it 
 is that, loving this girl and having, presumably, 
 some regard for her safety, you can take her 
 to crazy altitudes and induce her to throw 
 herself into the arms of death ? Of course 
 you know, and perhaps better than I do, that 
 213 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 the slightest error, if it failed to kill, would 
 cripple her for life." 
 
 "No, the net is beneath; and, besides, I 
 shall never miss her." 
 
 The serenity and confidence with which 
 this was uttered filled the older man with a 
 secret admiration. He looked again at the 
 arms with bulging muscles, the full neck and 
 chest, and the virile, somewhat lordly stride. 
 Had Stephen been his own son, his pride and 
 interest, his sense of responsibility and feel 
 ing of proprietorship, could hardly have been 
 greater. 
 
 " And besides," added the gladiator, turn 
 ing toward him with a more mirthful smile, 
 " it is my one way of circumventing the old 
 lady. She won't let me come near Filippa, 
 and these are the only times we are alone 
 together. We do all our talking and 
 and love-making up in the air. No one can 
 overhear us, and to hold her hand is part of 
 the performance." 
 
 " Do you mean to say that in the midst of 
 
 that life-and-death business you are billing 
 
 and cooing ? Demented children ! You 
 
 ought to have a guardian ! Is n't there some 
 
 214 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 reliable old chaperone to go up there with 
 you ? " 
 
 The lover laughed, a triumphant chuckle. 
 
 " No, there are none to be had ; but Mrs. 
 Zabarelli would like to go up there herself 
 mighty well ! " 
 
 The older man shook his head. 
 
 " Don't get careless because you can do it 
 easily." 
 
 They found Mrs. Zabarelli with Filippa by 
 her side, still sitting upon the roll of carpet. 
 
 The two women arose as Stephen pre 
 sented his friend. Dr. Thorne was of a 
 type rarely seen about the dressing-rooms of 
 this or of any other circus, and both mother 
 and daughter regarded him with a feeling of 
 awe. But this visitor, from his life of pro 
 miscuous benevolence, had been for years 
 familiar with every grade of society. His 
 manner was genial, and sufficiently familiar 
 to remove whatever constraint his clerical 
 air and imposing presence might at first 
 produce. 
 
 " Stephen and I are very old friends, and 
 are naturally very glad to meet again." 
 
 And his glance went from mother to daugh- 
 215 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 ter with a smile which included all in the 
 pleasure of reunion. Filippa returned his smile 
 with one yet warmer and more trusting. 
 
 As he looked down into the wide, short 
 face, and into the eyes that met his own 
 with a simple confidence, half timidly yet 
 without embarrassment, he tried to remem 
 ber what familiar picture she recalled. Was 
 it some Italian portrait, or was it his photo 
 graph of a contadina ? Or that woman in 
 yellow by Luca Giordano? Or could it be, 
 after all, the Sistine Madonna ? However, 
 his heart went out to her, this cheerful, acro 
 batic inamorata of his newly recovered friend. 
 One look into her face left little doubt of an 
 affectionate nature and a sunny disposition. 
 When she smiled, her whole face responded, 
 the eyebrows lifting themselves further from 
 the eyes and taking additional curves. Her 
 mouth was not large in repose, but expanded 
 when she laughed and showed two rows of 
 very white and even teeth. There was 
 something deferential in her manner, which 
 at the same time gave the impression that 
 she was waiting patiently for an excuse for 
 mirth. 
 
 216 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Dr. Thorne became soon convinced that 
 she was a frank, reasonable, high-minded little 
 person, and that her influence over Stephen 
 must be greatly for his good. 
 
 In figure she was slight, although with a 
 certain plumpness, and her sloping shoulders 
 were well rounded. He observed that her 
 bare arms, whenever they appeared from be 
 neath the yellow wrapper, were also plump. 
 
 She endeavored, as they stood talking to 
 gether, to conceal her interest in the admiring 
 Stephen ; and he also at times, as is the habit 
 of lovers, overshot the mark and made 
 clumsy, transparent efforts to ignore the ex 
 istence of the being who was of more import 
 ance to him than sun, earth, air, or food. 
 But the heavy-faced visitor saw more than 
 his friends suspected. He observed from 
 beneath the slumbrous eyelids various subtle 
 interchanges, certain contacts of elbows pro 
 longed and seemingly accidental, and occa 
 sional postponed avowals, which he knew 
 would soon be uttered on the high trapeze. 
 
 After a moment's conversation, and when 
 the constraint caused by an ecclesiastical pres 
 ence had been dispelled, Filippa, with her 
 217 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 head a trifle on one side, and with a thought 
 ful expression, said, 
 
 " If you knew Stephen fourteen years ago, 
 he must have been a little boy." 
 
 u Yes, he was a boy, but not so very little. 
 He was eleven years old." 
 
 " Was he an interesting boy ? " 
 
 " Oh, come, Filippa ! What a silly ques 
 tion ! " and the young man frowned and 
 drew back a step. 
 
 " Well, yes," was answered in a serious 
 tone. " Yes, he was interesting. But, of 
 course, he was bad. All boys are that." 
 
 " Was he very bad ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! And it was a good kind of 
 bad, not a bad bad, not a vicious kind 
 of badness. And so we never quarrelled, 
 and we had perfect confidence in each 
 other." * 
 
 As Filippa turned a triumphant glance 
 toward her mother, Stephen nodded assent, 
 but added, 
 
 "There 's no doubt of my confidence in 
 you, sir, but I don't see how you could have 
 had much in me." 
 
 Dr. Thorne, looking down into the face 
 218 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 that suggested so many Italian resemblances, 
 now upturned with the warmest interest to 
 his own, said, 
 
 "And I am forced to admit that I believe 
 his virtues are many times greater than his 
 faults." 
 
 There was pleasure in Filippa's eyes as 
 these words were uttered, and she turned 
 them with a childish pride upon the embar 
 rassed youth. He thereupon, with a little 
 color in his face, appeared absorbed in the 
 contemplation of his knuckles. She reached 
 forth and drew this hand toward her, straight 
 ening out the little ringer. Upon it was a 
 plain gold ring. 
 
 "Look at that, Dr. Thorne ! " she ex 
 claimed. " He has worn this ring for years, 
 and now he can't get it off. He will surely 
 have trouble with it, won't he ? Can't you 
 persuade him ? " 
 
 " Persuade him ! I will resort to brute 
 force if necessary. What is it you wish ? " 
 
 " I want him to have that ring taken off. 
 His finger is in a horrid condition. Just 
 look at it ! Don't you think it ought to 
 come off?" 
 
 219 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " Certainly I do. The flesh is inflamed. 
 What is the matter with it, Stephen ? " 
 
 u Oh, nothing ! I scratched my finger the 
 other day, that 's all, and the ring is tight." 
 
 " Tight ! I should say it was ! Why, it 
 is almost out of sight ! " 
 
 " Yes," said Filippa, " and it is getting 
 worse every day ! He has a silly super 
 stition against removing it. Do talk to 
 him ! " 
 
 " Seriously, Stephen," said Dr. Thorne, 
 looking closely at the finger, " I really think 
 it is a question of having either the ring or 
 your finger taken off. I should n't trifle with 
 it, if I were you. Why do you hesitate ? " 
 
 Stephen withdrew the hand, and answered 
 after a silence, 
 
 " My father gave it to me years ago, just 
 before I turned up at Lynstock, and told me 
 never to take it off. I have only done it 
 once, when I had the ring made bigger ; 
 and this little scratch I thought would heal 
 of itself." 
 
 " But you can have the ring enlarged and 
 put on another finger. It may be a serious 
 matter if neglected. Take my advice and 
 220 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 don't trifle with it. Consult a doctor if you 
 are in doubt, and see what he says." 
 
 " All right, sir ; I will attend to it." 
 
 " But when ? " asked Filippa, with a frown 
 and a solemn shake of the head. " You 
 have said that before, you foolish boy, but 
 you never do anything." 
 
 " Attend to it this afternoon after the per 
 formance," said Dr. Thorne. 
 
 Stephen hesitated. 
 
 " Come, give me your hand, and promise 
 on your honor that you will have it taken off 
 to-day." 
 
 Stephen laid his hand in the extended palm, 
 and replied, 
 
 " All right, sir; I promise." 
 
 " Thank you," said Filippa, looking up 
 into the clergyman's face ; u I should n't won 
 der if you had saved his finger. He has been 
 very horrid about it, just obstinate ; " and 
 with a reproving look she laid a very small 
 fist upon Stephen's chest. From the char 
 acter of the smile with which the trapezist 
 looked down into Filippa's face, the visitor 
 suspected that had the lovers been alone, the 
 scene would have ended with less formality. 
 221 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Stephen evidently felt that some explana 
 tion was required, for he added, 
 
 " I don't know as my father really thought 
 the ring could bring good luck, but I remem 
 ber distinctly his telling me never to take it 
 off; and I wanted to do as he said." 
 
 "Which is a good sentiment," said Dr. 
 Thorne ; " but I am sure " 
 
 At this point the gates beside them were 
 thrown wide apart, the environing space again 
 was flooded with light and music, and the 
 acrobats, clowns, Japanese jugglers, and vari 
 ous performers who had been hovering idly 
 about, started forth into the arena, a medley 
 of brilliant colors. 
 
 Filippa, with a slight change of color, 
 for appearing in her own limbs at close quar 
 ters before such a person as Dr. Thorne was 
 a new experience, threw off the yellow 
 wrap and gave it to her mother ; Stephen 
 tossed his own to one of the attendants ; then 
 both, with a hasty adieu, joined the glittering 
 throng and tripped through the archway, out 
 into the glare and music. 
 
 Dr. Thorne caught a sudden glimpse 
 impressive, almost unreal of countless 
 222 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 faces rising one above another. He heard 
 the cracking of whips and the clapping of 
 hands ; then dozens of horses with riders in 
 scarlet coats men, women, and children 
 came clattering through the opening with a 
 tremendous pounding of iron shoes upon the 
 floor. The gates as suddenly closed, and again 
 there was calmness. And again the visitor ad 
 mired the system and the quiet order which 
 governed every detail of the exhibition. The 
 riders dismounted, the horses were led below, 
 and once more the space before the Roman 
 chariots was comparatively vacant. 
 
 Finding himself alone beside the slender 
 woman in black, he resolved to ascertain the 
 real state of her feelings and to say a word 
 for Stephen. This second resolve was not 
 sanctioned by his conscience, as he felt that 
 his own personal liking was no equivalent for 
 the moral deficiencies of his friend, nor a 
 reason for inducing any mother to select him 
 as a son-in-law. No one knew better than 
 Dr. Thorne that Stephen, while of interest 
 as a psychological study and the possessor of 
 admirable qualities, was not a suitor to meet 
 the approval of a dutiful parent. 
 223 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 And what daughter, not blinded by love, 
 would put her trust in one who had inherited 
 a constitutional inability to discern right from 
 wrong, with whom morality, as an abstract 
 force, did not exist, and whose rage was not 
 only entirely beyond his own control but of 
 a murderous quality ? Yet she existed, and 
 he believed her a woman not only of the 
 purest character but of fine perceptions. 
 
 Mrs. Zabarelli, slight of figure, and all in 
 black, with Filippa's yellow wrap across her 
 arm, stood leaning against the wall as one 
 who finds any support a relief. She was a 
 delicate woman, rather pretty ; and as Dr. 
 Thome looked down into the sensitive, 
 anxious face, he divined that she had known 
 less of joy than of trouble, and that excess of 
 caution had developed, as the years went by, 
 into an habitual suspicion. 
 
 " Our seats seem to have disappeared, and 
 I am afraid you are tired," he said. " Is 
 there no place you can sit until your daughter 
 returns ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I sometimes sit in one of those 
 chariots. They do not go in until Filippa 
 
 224 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 And she looked toward the nearest chariot, 
 beside which stood a sumptuous figure. 
 
 If Dr. Thorne had encountered this per 
 sonage some centuries earlier, he might have 
 taken him for a Roman general. The au 
 thorities of the circus, in selecting the cos 
 tumes of their charioteers, had obviously 
 been guided more by an eye to effect than 
 by historical accuracy. A fillet of yellow 
 ribbon about his head, a crimson peplum 
 hanging from the shoulders, a chest and 
 stomach heavily embossed in gold, were the 
 impressive accessories to an Irish face. 
 
 This resplendent individual nodded pleas 
 antly as they approached. 
 
 " Good-day, Mrs. Zabarelli. Are ye to 
 honor my gig to-day by a sate on it ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Phelan, if you are willing." , 
 
 "Willing? I should say!" 
 
 And with the end of the crimson pe 
 plum he dusted the floor of his classic 
 vehicle. He greeted Dr. Thorne by bring- 
 tion a finger to his forehead in a saluta- 
 ing that suggested both the barracks and the 
 stable. u And your charming daughter, 
 Mrs. Zabarelli, in another minute will be 
 15 225 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 sailin' through the heavens like an angel 
 as she is." 
 
 With a cock of his head he moved away, 
 and remained in front of his four horses, con 
 versing with a lady who resembled the 
 mother of the Gracchi. She also was the 
 driver of a chariot. 
 
 The floor of the cumbrous vehicle was the 
 right height for a comfortable seat, but Mrs. 
 Zabarelli hesitated, as she saw no place for her 
 companion. But he insisted ; and as she took 
 it, his eyes fell upon a gaily painted tub close 
 at hand, the tub upon which the baby elephant 
 had brought shrieks of merriment from count 
 less children. This he rolled a little nearer 
 his companion, and he also had a seat. 
 
 " Our young people seem rather fond of 
 each other," he began, coming at once to the 
 point, as he knew the time was limited in 
 which they were to be alone. 
 
 Into Madame Zabarelli's face came a 
 troubled expression. 
 
 " Yes, they are, I think." 
 
 Then a pause. Dr. Thorne was diplo 
 matic, and he knew his mission to be delicate. 
 With a smile he continued, 
 226 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " If I were younger, I should put in a 
 claim myself." 
 
 She tried to smile. 
 
 " Yes, Filippa is a good girl ; everything in 
 the world to me." 
 
 " And Stephen is a manly fellow." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose he is." 
 
 She looked down and smoothed Filippa's 
 yellow cloak as it lay across her lap. 
 
 "And improves as he gets older," his 
 champion added. 
 
 She looked up, and regarded her ponder 
 ous vis-a-vis with a half-suspicious air. 
 " There is great room for improvement." 
 
 " You refer to his hasty temper ? " 
 
 "It is more than hasty," she said with 
 animation ; " it is murderous. He almost 
 killed a man here, not two months ago ! " 
 
 Turning partly about and indicating one of 
 the ring-masters, a heavy muscular man, get 
 ting some horses into line, she continued : 
 
 " Mr. Wadsworth struck at his face, and 
 Mr. Hacklander warded it off; but a second 
 blow hit him somewhere below the heart, 
 I think, and everybody thought he was 
 killed. He sank to the floor and could 
 227 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 hardly breathe for some minutes. His face 
 was like chalk." 
 
 Dr. Thorne closed his eyes and slowly 
 shook his head. 
 
 " I am sorry to hear that." 
 
 With a solemn, somewhat terrified expres 
 sion, she added, 
 
 " And that may happen to any one, to his 
 best friends ; for he says himself it comes 
 and goes before he realizes what has 
 happened." 
 
 " I hoped he had outgrown those attacks." 
 
 " Oh, not at all ! " she exclaimed. " If 
 one of those blows should strike his wife, or 
 any woman, it would kill her. No, I should 
 be a bad mother to trust my daughter in 
 such hands." 
 
 u Poor Stephen ! I cannot express to you 
 how sorry I am to hear this. But do you 
 believe, Mrs. Zabarelli, that he would ever 
 strike a woman, and above all his own wife ? 
 His anger, however violent, would certainly 
 stop this side of that." 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " I should never trust him. And besides 
 his temper, his eyes are well, unpleasant." 
 228 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 ct Unpleasant ! " exclaimed her companion, 
 in astonishment. "Why I never encoun 
 tered a more honest pair! If he could only 
 live up to those eyes he would be too im 
 maculate for an earthly life ! " 
 
 " Yes, sir, I know ; and that I suppose is 
 partly what makes me suspicious. They are 
 too good. They are false, and they fill me 
 with a kind of terror. It may be some hor 
 rid association," and she drew her hand 
 across her brow as if to recall a fugitive 
 memory, " but I feel there is danger behind 
 them. I can't get over it, and I know it is 
 not entirely imagination." 
 
 " It might be. People have often been 
 powerfully influenced by fancied resemblances 
 by ideas that have proved stronger than 
 their reason." 
 
 " But there is something more than that. 
 I feel but I can't explain it." 
 
 Into the worn, anxious face had come an 
 expression of dread, and the lips were drawn 
 with a painful intensity, as if confronting 
 some mysterious calamity. While Dr. 
 Thorne sympathized with what he could 
 not help regarding as a purely nervous condi- 
 229 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 tion, he felt that, in this particular at least, 
 there was injustice to Stephen. 
 
 During the silence in which he hesitated 
 for a reply, the music ceased, and he knew 
 that Filippa was about to swing off into 
 space, to be met by the dangerous lover, now 
 swooping through the heavens like a re 
 trieving angel, and guided by the unerring 
 eyes whose truth and honor were being so 
 bitterly denied. 
 
 Mrs. Zabarelli also knew what the silence 
 meant. She turned her head to one side and 
 closed her eyes. There was a short but ab 
 solute stillness, then a burst of music, fol 
 lowed by a clapping of innumerable hands 
 telling them Filippa was again in safety. 
 
 With a gentle smile, as their eyes met, he 
 said, 
 
 " The false eyes, at least, are faithful to 
 Filippa." 
 
 But the anxious mother was of too serious 
 a mind to undertake a smile. She looked 
 down and regarded her own hands, which lay 
 clasped upon the gaudy garment in her lap. 
 In a moment, however, she raised her face, 
 and, bending slightly forward, said, - 
 230 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " I know you think me very foolish to 
 speak as I did of Stephen's eyes, but it is no 
 fancy of mine and no prejudice. It is very 
 real, so real that sometimes when he looks 
 at me for a moment, I almost remember 
 everything." 
 
 Her companion made no answer, and she 
 continued hastily, as she knew the present 
 performance in the arena was now over : 
 
 " I would not do him an injustice for the 
 world, as he is very good to us in many ways. 
 He insists upon dividing equally with Filippa 
 their weekly salary, when he of course does 
 much more than she does. He really loves 
 Filippa ; I know that, but I must look out 
 for her. No one should blame me for ob 
 jecting to such a match." 
 
 " Blame you ! Certainly not ! Your first 
 thought is naturally for your daughter, and 
 rightly too. But let us try and know Stephen 
 better. I shall find out all I can and be 
 perfectly honest with you." 
 
 Both arose to their feet, as the gates had 
 
 opened for the returning performers. With 
 
 an encouraging smile he held out his hand. 
 
 " Trust in me. I am an old hand at such 
 
 231 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 matters. We will see that no harm overtakes 
 Filippa." 
 
 With a more contented expression and 
 with a word of thanks she laid a hand in his. 
 
 Stephen and Filippa came running through 
 the archway, pursued by the uplifting music. 
 The mellow light of the amphitheatre behind 
 them, the vast audience towering high on 
 every side, the 'excited horses and their gayly 
 colored riders dashing madly about the arena, 
 were all far more impressive than as seen 
 from the auditorium itself. 
 
 Filippa, whose graceful scantiness of cos 
 tume suggested a spirit from more ethereal 
 realms, tripped lightly toward them ; and 
 the yellow wrapper, outstretched by mater 
 nal hands, was thrown about her shoulders. 
 The rose, which the visitor now saw to be 
 of paper, had become unfastened, and was 
 dangling from the hair, also looser and dis 
 arranged since its owner had swung head 
 downward through the air. She was breath 
 ing hard ; and as she shook hands with Dr. 
 Thorne and said good-by, he saw in her eyes 
 an exhilaration and content not produced by 
 exercise alone. 
 
 232 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Was love, so high above the earth, more 
 thrilling than terrestrial avowals? 
 
 As she and her mother moved away, the 
 black figure and the yellow, he made a 
 resolve that all that lay in his power to 
 brighten their future should be done, at what 
 ever cost. 
 
 He turned and confronted Stephen. The 
 youth was smiling pleasantly upon him, and 
 in his eyes he saw the same overflowing con 
 tentment. He also was breathing rapidly, as 
 well he might. The last twenty minutes had 
 been spent in a manner to test the hardest 
 muscles and the coolest nerves. The happy, 
 honest eyes moved involuntarily to the retreat 
 ing figures with a tenderness and expectancy 
 which may have penetrated the yellow robe 
 between Filippa's shoulders ; for she gave a 
 backward look before disappearing around the 
 curving wall and a lingering, significant 
 little nod. The amiable visitor concluded 
 that this manoeuvre, from the manner of its 
 execution, was of regular occurrence. 
 
 Stephen accompanied his friend to the outer 
 door, and readily accepted an invitation to dine 
 with him on the following day, which was 
 233 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Sunday. A moment later, when Dr. Thorne 
 found himself again upon the sidewalk, 
 surrounded by the commonplace scenes of 
 daily life men with trousers, women whose 
 limbs were concealed by superfluous drapery, 
 and all the matter-of-fact dulness of prac 
 tical existence, and with no music, he felt as 
 if suddenly awakened from a dream. There 
 was also a feeling of having descended at a 
 single step from Imperial Rome to Manhattan 
 Island. 
 
 234 
 
XI 
 
 A S usual, after the performance that night, 
 ** Stephen, with Filippa and her mother, left 
 the circus and walked through Twenty-seventh 
 Street to Third Avenue. This avenue, 
 with its many lights, where all the world 
 seemed out of doors, was, like many other 
 New York avenues on a summer evening, a 
 scene of gayety and animation. 
 
 As the three travellers stood waiting for 
 an uptown car, the most conspicuous figure 
 of the group was Stephen. His dark blue 
 suit and colored shirt, his belt and russet 
 shoes, were all in the prevailing summer 
 fashion. And, altogether, with his truthful 
 eyes and athletic figure he produced an ac 
 ceptable impression of health and youth and 
 vigor and of surpassing honesty. 
 
 Filippa, like her mother, was dressed in 
 black, and very simply, wearing no color 
 except a spot of crimson at her throat and 
 another in her hat. 
 
 235 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 They took an open car. Mrs. Zabarelli 
 entered first, followed by her daughter, the 
 young man last, keeping the outer seat. Mrs. 
 Zabarelli, being suspicious, cast occasional 
 glances toward her daughter's lap. Filippa, 
 aware of these suspicions, folded her plump 
 little hands before her, and conversed gaily 
 upon every subject, as if no lover were in 
 sight. But the spirit that laughs at lock 
 smiths directed one of Stephen's hands to the 
 nearest arm, the sleeve of which, being short 
 and somewhat open from the elbow down, 
 seemed to favor this manoeuvre. So during 
 their journey of a mile or more he 
 achieved two triumphs : one, the circumven 
 tion of a watchful parent; the other, the 
 maintenance of a spiritual intercourse in 
 which compressions, strokes, and taps con 
 veyed subtle and multitudinous meanings. 
 A general statement of ordinary significance 
 when accompanied by one of these secret 
 messages, took on at once a revivifying in 
 terest. Moreover, that hilarious little current 
 that flies from lover to lover, even at fingers' 
 contact, expanded, in a case like this, to an 
 intoxicating revel. 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 When Filippa, in descending from the car, 
 placed her hand in Stephen's, it received a 
 gentle yet emphatic pressure, a tender, mel 
 ancholy, yet assuring grasp; for this was 
 their adieu as regarded intercourse of that 
 character, both believing that until to-morrow 
 afternoon, on the high trapeze with thou 
 sands looking on, they the hands would 
 probably have no chance for meeting. This 
 pressure was affectionately returned. 
 
 Eastward, toward the river, Filippa in the 
 middle, they walked along the quiet street, 
 and slowly, for the night was warm. 
 
 Filippa was the first to speak. 
 
 " He seems a very nice man, your friend ? " 
 
 "What friend?" 
 
 " The big clergyman who was at the circus 
 this afternoon, Mr. Thome, so kind and 
 gentle." 
 
 " The best man in the world ! " said 
 Stephen. " You can bet on him, and every 
 time. He was mighty good to me, took 
 me right into the family, like his own son." 
 
 " When was that ? " 
 
 " Oh, thirteen or fourteen years ago." 
 
 " And did you stay there long ? " 
 237 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 <c A couple of months, I guess." 
 
 " Yes," said Filippa, reflectively. " I re 
 member your telling me something about it. 
 But if he was so good to you, why did you 
 leave ? " 
 
 " I forget." 
 
 Mrs. Zabarelli's ears, as Stephen knew, were 
 always on the watch for something to his in 
 jury, and he had no intention, at least when 
 she was present, of assisting in his own defeat. 
 Her hostility was open ; she made no conceal 
 ment of her antipathy for this perilous lover. 
 
 " Mamma says she used to know him." 
 
 "No, I didn't say that," said her mother. 
 "I only used to hear him preach occasionally. 
 Has n't he some odd belief, or other ? " 
 
 " I don't know," replied Steve. " I forget 
 about that." 
 
 "Something about Christ not being dead 
 and still going about the earth ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes," said Stephen, "I remember. 
 That was it, I think. Some folks thought 
 he was a crank, but it was only in that busi 
 ness. He is n't any fool." 
 
 " Gracious, I should say not ! " exclaimed 
 Filippa ; " he seems awfully wise." 
 238 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " He is," said Stephen. 
 
 The last house in the block, the one 
 farthest to the east, an ordinary three-story 
 dwelling, was precisely like its score of neigh 
 bors, except in its possession of windows 
 toward the river. It was now a boarding- 
 house. 
 
 "I am afraid you'll find the hall kinder 
 dark, Mrs. Zabrelly," said the landlady, who 
 was standing on the steps for a breath of air 
 before retiring. " It 's after eleven o'clock, 
 and I thought you was home. I could 'a' 
 waited just as well." 
 
 "Oh, it doesn't matter. We know the 
 stairs ; " and giving the key to Filippa, she 
 remained for a few words with Mrs. Mac- 
 Farlane, while the younger people entered the 
 house and began a cautious ascent of the un- 
 lighted stairs. Reaching the third and steep 
 est flight, p^ilippa halted on the second step. 
 
 u Sometimes this very last climb is really 
 too much." 
 
 " Then why don't you take the elevator ? " 
 demanded Stephen, so close behind that he 
 was almost touching her. 
 
 Turning partly around and reaching toward 
 239 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 his face, hardly visible in the darkness, she 
 took hold of his chin. 
 
 " What nonsense are you talking ? What 
 elevator ? " 
 
 " This one." 
 
 And he put one arm behind her knees, the 
 other across her back, and before she realized 
 his purpose, swung her high in the air, as 
 lightly as if she were a doll. 
 
 " Oh, Stevey ! " she whispered, " put me 
 down ! What would mamma say ? " 
 
 " Nothing, because she '11 never know." 
 
 " How bad you are and how strong ! " 
 
 u What 's the use of owning an elevator 
 if you never use it ? " And he carried her 
 to the final landing, and without an effort. 
 
 " Well, here we are," she said. " Now 
 let me down." 
 
 u But it 's fun to hold you." 
 
 " No, you must n't, Stevey ! Besides, 
 mamma will be coming in a minute." 
 
 "She has n't started yet." 
 
 " But you must n't ! Now, behave ! " 
 
 "If you were in my place, would you 
 obey ? " 
 
 " Of course I would ! " 
 240 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Steve laughed. 
 
 " Oh, no, you would n't, Filippa ! You 
 would n't be such a fool. You would n't 
 drop the nicest girl in the world if you 
 once had her like this." 
 
 Although too dark to see much, he knew 
 she was smiling, or something very near it. 
 As her face was drawn closer to his own, she 
 laid a protesting hand across his mouth ; but 
 against Stephen's strength such an incon 
 siderable affair as Filippa's hand was of no 
 avail. 
 
 Five minutes later, when Mrs. Zabarelli 
 entered her parlor, she found Filippa arrang 
 ing their very simple supper upon the table, 
 while the bad young man stood innocently by 
 the open window, from which he overlooked 
 the avenue and the vacant lot, and could see 
 across the river to Blackwell's Island. 
 
 The parlor of the Zabarellis, although 
 with two windows to the south and one to 
 the east, would have been dingy and common 
 place except for Filippa's love of color, in 
 herited in all its fulness from her Neapolitan 
 father. His portrait hung above the mantle. 
 Occasional cushions, scarfs, and rugs of vivid 
 16 241 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 but harmonious colors gave life and cheerful 
 ness to an apartment whose other accessories 
 had reached a shabby senility. 
 
 This nightly supper was a compromise. 
 The young people after their evenings at the 
 circus required something in the way of food, 
 and during the earlier days of their present 
 alliance they had taken it at restaurants. 
 But restaurant suppers were expensive, and 
 the Zabarellis were poor. Stephen joyfully 
 played the host, but Mrs. Zabarelli, unwilling 
 to continue placing herself under obligations 
 to one whom she distrusted and opposed, 
 insisted upon these banquets being served 
 at home, at least their own proportion of 
 them. 
 
 One of Filippa's ambitions was to make 
 these little reunions enjoyable, in spite of her 
 mother's presence, which was a chilling 
 influence to overcome, and to-night the 
 little chandelier in the centre of the room 
 above the supper table was blazing at its full 
 capacity. Its full capacity was but four very 
 ordinary burners, and the feast consisted 
 merely of ham, potato salad, bread, butter, 
 and cheese, with two bottles of lager beer. 
 242 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 But to herself and Stephen these were details 
 of minor importance. And in spite of the 
 inevitable results of her mother's open hos 
 tility to the guest, they always enjoyed 
 these little feasts. To-night, as usual, the 
 meal passed cheerfully, and fulfilled its mis 
 sion of keeping two people in each other's 
 presence for an additional hour. 
 
 As they arose from the table, Mrs. Zaba- 
 relli went into the other room. Filippa, tak 
 ing one of Stephen's hands in both her own, 
 said with a nod of approval as she examined 
 
 it, 
 
 " You are a good little boy to keep your 
 promise. Your finger will soon be well 
 again, I know." 
 
 " Very likely. But what do you think was 
 inside the ring ? " 
 
 " Was it hollow ? " 
 
 "No, I mean written along it, on the 
 under side." 
 
 " I 'm sure I don't know. Some inscrip 
 tion from your mother to your father ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! More mysterious than that." 
 
 Filippa with increasing interest, as if ap 
 proaching some awful secret, whispered, 
 243 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " Not from some other lady to your 
 father ! " 
 
 " No ; but you 'd never guess. See for 
 yourself;" and from a pocket he brought 
 forth the ring, now severed and drawn wider 
 open, and he laid it in her hand. She held it 
 to the light and studied the inscription. 
 
 u Why, Stevey ! My initials ! How curi 
 ous ! But it can't be possible ! " Then 
 with a look of suspicion she took a backward 
 step and slowly shook her head. " How 
 simple I am ! But it J s very nice of you to 
 give it to me. And it 's a good wish : c God 
 Bless the Wearer.' You did fool me, though, 
 for a minute." 
 
 " What do you mean fooling you ? I'm 
 not fooling you, Filippa. You mean I had it 
 written ? No, I swear I did n't ! That is 
 just as the ring has always been ever since 
 I 've worn it, but I had forgotten all about 
 that writing. But I was goin' to give it to 
 you all the same, as soon as I saw those in 
 itials. It might bring you good luck. I 
 would n't give it to anybody else, though ! 
 You can bet on that ! " 
 
 " I believe you, Stevey ; " and she laid a 
 244 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 hand on his arm, looking up into his face 
 with the smile that had stirred the Italian 
 memories of Dr. Thorne and brought him 
 confusion of Madonnas. This smile and 
 it was not uncommon was unfailing in its 
 effect upon Stephen ; creating a desire for 
 heroic deeds, deeds requiring strength and 
 amazing courage, or some gigantic sacrifice, 
 to prove to her, once for all, that he was hers, 
 absolutely and forever. 
 
 He took her gently by the shoulders, but 
 before proceeding farther turned his eyes 
 toward the chamber. It was well he did, 
 for as he looked Mrs. Zabarelli was coming 
 through the doorway. 
 
 " What do you think, mother ! " exclaimed 
 Filippa, holding the ring toward her. " What 
 do you suppose it says inside this ring of 
 Stephen's ? " 
 
 " I don't know, I am sure," was indiffer 
 ently answered, with a glance yet more in 
 different in the direction of the lover, as he 
 strolled toward the window after a sudden 
 release of Filippa's shoulders. 
 
 u But, really, mother, it J s most extraordi- 
 
 245 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 nary. It has my initials, and they have been 
 there all these years." 
 
 Her mother, with feeble interest and 
 merely to gratify her daughter, took the ring, 
 adjusted her glasses, and read aloud the in 
 scription, " To F. W. Z. God Bless the 
 Wearer." 
 
 " Yes, that 's very curious," she said, in a 
 manner, however, that was disappointing from 
 its unconcern. 
 
 " But, mother dear, don't you think it a 
 wonderful coincidence that somebody else 
 should have my initials, which are so un 
 usual, and that Steve should be wearing 
 them all these years ? " 
 
 Mrs. Zabarelli seemed not to hear. She 
 had removed her glasses and closed her eyes, 
 her thoughts drawn suddenly into the past by 
 this once familiar legend. 
 
 Turning about, she confronted the ap 
 proaching Stephen. He halted in surprise 
 at the sudden change in her expression. 
 The careworn, anxious face was now ablaze 
 with anger, the eyes dilated from an un 
 wonted excitement, obviously beyond her 
 own control. So swiftly was her arm ex- 
 246 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 tended that he took a backward step to avoid 
 the quivering finger that pointed at his face. 
 
 " I remember you now ! It all comes 
 back ! And those honest eyes ! For years I 
 have been trying to place them. And you 
 have the insolence, the brutal, brazen inso 
 lence, to come into my house. Leave it ! 
 Leave it, and never enter it again ! Mur 
 derer, robber ! " 
 
 The color left Stephen's face. He glanced 
 at Filippa, who seemed bewildered by her 
 mother's language. In a low voice he asked : 
 
 " What do you mean, Mrs. Zabarelli ? " 
 
 " What do I mean ! You know even 
 better than I do what I mean ! And that 
 ring with its inscription is a surprise to 
 you ! " 
 
 And she laughed ; but the laughter was in 
 irony, and so mirthless and unnatural that the 
 listeners thought her reason was affected. 
 
 u Oh, yes, you are surprised ! And 7 was 
 surprised that day on Staten Island, fourteen 
 years ago, when you came into my home and 
 robbed me of all I owned. And my child 
 and I have been in poverty ever since." 
 
 The ring, as she finished, slid from her 
 247 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 trembling fingers, and rolled into the obscurity 
 of a corner, its mission accomplished. 
 
 " But really, ma'am, I don't know what 
 you mean," said Stephen earnestly, laying a 
 hand upon his chest as in protestation of his 
 innocence. 
 
 More calmly she answered, but with bitter 
 contempt, 
 
 " Of course not ! But the denial is of 
 precious little value coming from a man who 
 can rob a helpless woman, and kill her child 
 if necessary to accon .plish his purpose." 
 
 Steve, with changing color, stared intently 
 at Madame Zabarelli in a despairing effort to 
 understand her words. 
 
 " Mother dear," said Filippa, gently, " there 
 must be some mistake. You say fourteen 
 years ago, and fourteen years ago Steve was 
 only ten years old. And this robber was a 
 man, was n't he ? " 
 
 Her mother frowned, as in a confusing 
 mental struggle, nervously brushing the hair 
 from her temples. 
 
 " Don't you see, mother dear, it could n't 
 be Steve? It was some entirely different 
 person." 
 
 248 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " Then it was his father ! " she exclaimed. 
 "Oh, I shall not forget that face ! Nor 
 those lying eyes ! You have said yourself 
 that ring was given you by your father. No 
 child of mine shall associate with the son of 
 such a parent. Never ! never ! never ! " she 
 repeated with increasing emphasis. Then, 
 regarding him with an infinite scorn, she de 
 manded, 
 
 " Is that clear ? " 
 
 Along his veins and through the tissues of 
 his brain throbbed warnings of a hovering 
 enemy, his mother's rage; but he had con 
 fidence in his self-control. 
 
 " Filippa," he said gently, " of course 
 you don't want to go against your mother, 
 but you would n't throw me over entirely, 
 would you ? " 
 
 Before her daughter could reply, Mrs. 
 Zabarelli again spoke out, 
 
 " As my whole life has been a sacrifice for 
 Filippa, I do not expect to be deserted at the 
 first call of a stranger, and above all for a 
 stranger of your antecedents ! " 
 
 Filippa, now summoned without warning 
 to make the decision of her life, loving each 
 249 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 and willing to make any sacrifice of herself 
 for the good of either, turned entreatingly 
 toward her mother. With both hands upon 
 her arm, she began to speak. 
 
 But Mrs. Zabarelli was not a woman to 
 relinquish victory when once achieved. She 
 drew away her arm, and, ignoring Filippa, 
 stepped nearer Stephen. 
 
 " That ring your father took from Filippa 
 when he entered my house and robbed me, 
 with a loaded pistol, of all the money I pos 
 sessed. I have found since that he was a 
 professional thief and murderer, a sharper, 
 a blackleg, a common criminal, with no pre 
 tensions to decency or honor. And you, 
 the image of him, his own true son in soul 
 and body, I have seen through ever since 
 you joined us. Your lying eyes have never 
 fooled me. And your brutal, murdering 
 temper is the temper of a " 
 
 But Stephen heard no more, and he heard 
 but dimly the last few words as they rent the 
 barriers of his rage. A flood of fury, hot, 
 blinding and resistless, surged like a bursting 
 torrent through his brain. His eyes saw, 
 but they told him nothing. They only 
 250 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 showed him the hostile face before him, and 
 he struck madly out. It was a blow to kill, 
 if kill he could. 
 
 At the transformation in his face Filippa 
 flung herself before her mother. Upon her 
 upturned chin she met his fist, then sank upon 
 the carpet, limp and motionless. 
 
 The arm drew back for another blow, 
 but as he advanced to launch it, striking 
 with his foot the form upon the floor, the 
 wildfire flickered in his brain, then died away 
 as suddenly as it came. He stopped, stag 
 gered backwards, and drew a hand across 
 his eyes as if to hasten his returning reason. 
 The mother's terror-stricken eyes moved 
 from Stephen to the figure at her feet ; she 
 stooped, and with her feeble strength endeav 
 ored to raise her daughter from the floor. 
 
 To his horror Steve saw Filippa's head sink 
 back, an unresponsive weight. Her face, ex 
 cept the purple bruise upon her chin, had a 
 lifeless pallor. Beside her, upon his knees, he 
 also dropped, exclaiming in a voice of agony, 
 
 " Oh, my God ! my God ! " 
 
 Take her to the bed," said Mrs. Zabarelli, 
 forgetting all except her daughter's danger. 
 251 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Carefully he rose to his feet, the burden in 
 his arms ; and as he followed Mrs. Zabarelli 
 into the chamber, he turned the girl's cheek 
 against his own and muttered an incoherent 
 appeal. Gently upon the bed he laid her, 
 while the mother's hands arranged a pillow. 
 
 " Now run for a doctor ! " she exclaimed. 
 " Quick ! quick, and don't lose a second ! " 
 
 He was off, as the words were uttered, 
 down the dark stairs in reckless leaps, out 
 into the silent street, leaving the door wide 
 open behind him. 
 
 He remembered a doctor's sign half-way 
 along the block, and up the steps of that 
 house he sprang and pulled the bell. All the 
 inmates were abed, for it was after midnight. 
 He rang again and again, and it seemed 
 hours before the door was opened. 
 
 " I want to see the doctor, quick ! " 
 
 u Dr. Hasselmann is out." 
 
 " Out ! How soon will he be back ? " 
 
 " Oh, he might return in ten minutes and 
 it might not be for an hour or two." 
 
 " Is n't there another doctor near ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; at No. 65, about the middle of 
 the next block." 
 
 252 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 In another minute Stephen was ringing 
 the bell at No. 65, and with better luck. 
 
 This doctor, an elderly, gray-haired man, 
 hurried on under the young man's guidance, 
 asking certain questions concerning the nature 
 of the accident. Steve told him all, only 
 omitting that the "accidental blow" had 
 been aimed at another woman. Up the dark 
 stairs he led the way, and when they entered 
 the Zabarelli parlor the physician was some 
 what out of breath. 
 
 He passed at once to the chamber, and 
 bent over Filippa. 
 
 When he looked up, first at the mother 
 and then at Stephen, his kind, serious face 
 told them, before a word was uttered, that all 
 was over. He said something about death 
 having been instantaneous, and spoke of con 
 cussion of the brain. Mrs. Zabarelli, who 
 had suspected the truth, seemed dazed by 
 grief. Mechanically she seated herself in a 
 little chair by the bed, and began to rock. 
 
 With dry lips and a husky voice Steve 
 asked if nothing could be done, if there was 
 no possibility of this condition being only 
 temporary. 
 
 253 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " Surely there must be some way to bring 
 her back, doctor ! " he whispered. " You 
 don't mean she 's dead gone forever ! " 
 
 The man of science laid a hand gently 
 upon his shoulder. 
 
 u Yes, but nothing could have been done 
 to save her. Life was, perhaps, extinct be 
 fore you left the house." 
 
 And with a few words to the mother he 
 departed. 
 
 Long afterwards Stephen, as in a hideous 
 trance, stood motionless by Filippa's bed. 
 He shed no tears. There were no outward 
 signs of grief. 
 
 At last, turning slowly about, he walked 
 into the parlor. For completer solitude he 
 turned out the gas, and threw himself upon 
 the floor, his face buried in his hands. 
 
 254 
 
XII 
 
 \1 7" HEN Stephen raised his head, a faint, 
 cold light had crept into the room. 
 He shuddered, for the light of day was not 
 for such as he. There were things too cow 
 ardly and too vile to face the glare of heaven. 
 Climbing slowly to his feet, he approached 
 the open window. 
 
 With a kind of terror he regarded the 
 colorless radiance in the east spreading slowly 
 upward into the starlit sky. It seemed to 
 his shrinking gaze like something sent to 
 hunt him ; something that would overtake 
 him if he lingered. Pure and calm, it flick 
 ered along the surface of the river, and the 
 river brought a welcome thought. Beneath 
 the waters there was peace. No lingering 
 here, no sacrifice within his power, could 
 bring back Filippa, or palliate the unutterable 
 crime. But there, at least, was oblivion. 
 
 For a last look upon what had been dearer 
 to him than all the world for whose life 
 255 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 he would cheerfully have given up his own 
 he moved toward the chamber. But in 
 the doorway, as his eyes encountered Mrs. 
 Zabarelli gently rocking, just as he had left 
 her long hours ago, he halted. Was her 
 reason gone ? Had he killed two women 
 with a single blow ? When he stood before 
 her and spoke her name, she ceased rocking 
 and looked up. But in her face came no 
 look of recognition. After a questioning 
 glance she lowered her eyes and continued 
 rocking. 
 
 Mechanically he turned out the light. 
 Moving to the foot of the bed, he looked 
 down on the silent figure, now doubly solemn 
 in the ghostly light that entered from the 
 eastern windows. 
 
 There seemed in this frigid radiance, as it 
 lay upon Filippa's face, something spiritual 
 and unearthly, as from another world. Stand 
 ing at her feet, he recalled, with another pang 
 of remorse such as had been burning into 
 his brain through the hours of night her 
 unwavering confidence in himself, her readi 
 ness to swing from any height if only he were 
 there to catch her, her persistence in taking 
 
 256 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 upon herself all blame when it would place 
 him in a better light before her mother, her 
 cheerfulness, her loyalty, and her courage. 
 And before his dry, hot eyes, the bed, the 
 woman rocking by its side, and the room 
 itself began slowly to revolve in widening, 
 swifter circles. His brain also seemed to 
 float away. Staggering backwards, he sank 
 into a chair. 
 
 But the dizziness soon passed. Dropping 
 upon his knees at the foot of the bed, he bent 
 forward and reverently touched his lips to the 
 sole of one of Filippa's shoes. Then he 
 climbed to his feet, and after a parting look 
 at the stricken mother still rocking to and 
 fro, unconscious of his presence, he turned 
 and left the room. 
 
 Down the dark stairs, out into the street, 
 where the lights from lamp-posts glimmered 
 yellow and useless in the advancing dawn, he 
 kept his course with outward calmness. 
 
 Nearing the avenue, he halted in surprise 
 as he recognized an approaching figure. Too 
 well he knew the walk and the ponderous, 
 familiar form to be mistaken. He also knew 
 that Dr. Thorne must be returning from some 
 17 257 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 errand of mercy, and instinctively he con 
 trasted it with his own black deed. His 
 first impulse was to cross the street ; but his 
 old friend had already recognized him. 
 
 " Why, Stephen, what 's the matter ? " 
 
 The tone of alarm was involuntary, as the 
 face before him was that of an older man 
 than the Stephen Wadsworth of the after 
 noon before. Dark hollows beneath the 
 eyes j a tension of the lips, the pallor, and the 
 whole expression told plainly of a conquering 
 sorrow. 
 
 The murderer shrank within himself as 
 he encountered the anxious, friendly scrutiny. 
 Even the voice was not his own in which he 
 answered, 
 
 " An accident to Filippa." 
 
 " Oh, I am sorry sorry ! What is it ? 
 How did it happen ? " 
 
 Stephen looked away, but his face told the 
 inward agony which choked his speech. 
 
 " Is there nothing I can do ? " continued 
 his friend. " Cannot I go there, and be of 
 service ? " 
 
 " Will you ? " exclaimed Stephen. " Will 
 you go there ? " and he pointed to the house. 
 
 258 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 " That first door on the right ; it is open. 
 They are at the very top, on the front. 
 Will you really go there ? " 
 
 " Certainly, of course I will ! And you 
 return soon, I suppose ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 They parted, and Stephen felt, as from a 
 knife, a sharp regret that his final word to 
 such a friend should be a lie. But what mat 
 tered a lie after a deed like his ! When Dr. 
 Thorne should find Filippa had been mur 
 dered, and by him, his contempt and loathing 
 would be far beyond the influence of lies 
 or of all ordinary human sins. 
 
 With heavy, unobservant eyes, and lips 
 compressed, he strode across the vacant lot 
 toward the wharf. This piece of ground, 
 between the Avenue and the East River, 
 about the size of an average city block, was 
 of uneven surface, and at present served merely 
 as a playground for the children of the neigh 
 borhood. He followed the wagon track that 
 led across it to the wharf. 
 
 Reaching out into the river about an hun 
 dred feet, this wharf, but little used, bore 
 a deserted, somewhat melancholy aspect. 
 259 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Alongside lay a solitary craft, a heavy 
 schooner, close against the land. Her cargo 
 of paving-stones, partially unloaded, was scat 
 tered along the pier. 
 
 Out upon the wharf, about a third its 
 length, he had walked with firm and even 
 steps, when he stopped and turned about. 
 The sleeping city before him showed no signs 
 of life, save the steam and rattle from a dis 
 tant train upon the elevated road, and a mail- 
 wagon as it disappeared around a neighboring 
 corner. 
 
 In the slowly brightening sky above the 
 window of the room in which Filippa lay, 
 a group of stars still glittered through the 
 spreading light. The window was open, as 
 he had left it. With his eyes upon this win 
 dow, he moved his lips responsive to some 
 thing in his soul akin to prayer j but the 
 prayer was not for himself. He closed his 
 eyes, raised his face toward the sky, and drew 
 a long, deep breath which ended in a gasp. 
 
 As he turned about and took a forward 
 
 step along the wharf, he halted in surprise 
 
 at seeing the figure of a man not a dozen feet 
 
 away. He opened wide his eyes, then closed 
 
 260 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 them, believing it a vision of his feverish brain. 
 One moment ago no human being was in 
 sight. 
 
 The figure approached, and even now, in 
 the uncertain light, he half doubted its reality. 
 To his weary eyes it mysteriously blended 
 with the radiance behind, the expanding, 
 many-tinted splendor announcing the dawn 
 of day. 
 
 Coming close to Stephen, the man stood 
 before him. He was young, but little over 
 thirty, and tall, with a slight stoop about the 
 shoulders. From his simple, somewhat or 
 dinary clothes, Stephen judged him to be a 
 master mechanic, a mason perhaps, or a 
 carpenter. But the face was less usual. The 
 features were regular, the eyes a dark blue, 
 and singularly gentle and expressive. A 
 brown beard grew in two points from the 
 chin. 
 
 Reaching forth a hand, he rested it on the 
 murderer's shoulder, 
 
 "Life is yet before you, Stephen. You 
 have made a good fight, but your burden was 
 beyond your strength/' 
 
 And as the compassionate eyes were fixed 
 261 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 upon his own, Steve experienced a new sen 
 sation. 
 
 It might have been a form of personal 
 magnetism, or mayhap this stranger pos 
 sessed the power of imparting to those with 
 whom he came in contact a portion of his 
 own nature ; but whatever the cause, Steve 
 realized within himself the birth of a new 
 hope, of a new and different kind of courage. 
 Moreover, he was indefinably impressed by 
 something in the expression, and in the voice 
 and manner, of this unexpected friend ; by a 
 certain gentleness and thoughtful gravity that 
 suggested a wider experience than his apparent 
 age would justify. 
 
 Such was his influence, that Stephen was 
 walking by his side, when after a very few 
 words of encouragement he took his way 
 across the vacant lot along the street toward 
 the Zabarellis. 
 
 He ascended the steps as if familiar with 
 the house, and mounted to the upper floor. 
 
 Without knocking he turned the knob of 
 
 Mrs. Zabarelli's parlor, and entered. His 
 
 hat, of soft black felt, of common shape, he 
 
 laid upon a table near the door. Stephen 
 
 262 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 followed, close behind; and he noticed that 
 Dr. Thorne, who was talking with Mrs. 
 Zabarelli near the window, took a step or two 
 forward when he saw the stranger, a look of 
 pleasure and recognition upon his face. His 
 greeting was returned, which caused Stephen 
 to believe that they already knew each other. 
 And it also appeared, from the deference with 
 which Dr. Thorne addressed him Dr. 
 Thorne being much the older of the two 
 that he might be a person of more impor 
 tance than his attire betrayed. But he lin 
 gered for a moment only, then passed on into 
 the chamber. 
 
 The others followed. The little chamber 
 was all aglow with rosy light, from the crim 
 son sun just showing above the trees beyond 
 the river. And on the opposite wall stood 
 purple shadows of the anxious group. 
 
 " Is there any hope ? " demanded Mrs. 
 Zabarelli in a tremulous voice, with an ap 
 pealing glance to the stranger. " Can you 
 do anything for her, doctor ? Oh, it 's too 
 late ! too late ! I know it 's too late ! " 
 
 Making no reply, but seating himself upon 
 the bed beside Filippa, he drew a hand across 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 her forehead, gently, as if smoothing her 
 hair, and uttered, in a low voice, words not 
 understood by those about him. 
 
 So great was Stephen's confidence in this 
 man, strengthened by the knowledge that 
 certain trances had frequently been mistaken 
 for death itself, that he was not amazed by 
 what now occurred. 
 
 The color came creeping back into Filip- 
 pa's face ; her bosom rose, responsive to 
 a long, deep breath, and as if awakening 
 from a sleep ; her eyelids moved, then slowly 
 opened, and she looked about. 
 
 Blinking, as one not fully awake, she looked 
 up at the face above her, now illumined by the 
 light through the eastern window a rosy, 
 supernal light that seemed to enfold him with 
 a glorifying touch. 
 
 " Why, what has happened ? " 
 
 Then, with a glance at those about, she 
 added, 
 
 " Oh, yes, I remember!" 
 
 And seeking Stephen with her eyes, she 
 filled his soul with an infinite joy. The look 
 was a message that told of more than forgive 
 ness. In the flood of feelings that over- 
 264 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 whelmed him, his face, haggard and sensitive, 
 spoke plainly of his gratitude. And then it 
 was that his eyes met those of the stranger, 
 who smiled a simple, brotherly smile, so 
 expressive of fellow feeling and encourage 
 ment that it created in Stephen a warmer 
 sentiment toward him; a sudden affection 
 hitherto forbidden, probably without intent, 
 by the man's gravity and reserve. 
 
 Mrs. Zabarelli had stood by the bed in 
 breathless anxiety, apparently unable to ac 
 cept the evidence of her senses. But when 
 her daughter, with the stranger's aid, arose and 
 stood upon her feet, she convulsively embraced 
 her and wept aloud from excess of joy. 
 
 "Why, it's like coming to life again, 
 Filippa ! We thought you were dead ! " 
 
 She stroked her hair and patted her cheeks, 
 crying and laughing by turns. 
 
 She soon recovered, however, and, turn 
 ing to Filippa's rescuer, who was replying 
 to some question of Dr. Thome's, she said 
 with earnestness, 
 
 u How can I thank you, sir ! You have 
 given me back my daughter. Is there noth 
 ing I can do to prove my gratitude ? " 
 
 265 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 Indicating Stephen by a gesture, he an 
 swered, 
 
 "Yes, by giving your daughter to this 
 man. Henceforth he shall be worthy of 
 your confidence." 
 
 Mrs. Zabarelli frowned and was about to 
 protest. But as she looked searchingly into 
 the stranger's face, a closer study may have 
 brought a fuller trust, or she also may have 
 yielded, like the others, to some indefinable 
 personal influence. However, after a ques 
 tioning glance at Dr. Thorne, who bowed 
 his head in emphatic approval, and a look at 
 Stephen, whose face bore a gentler expression 
 since the night before, she answered, 
 
 " I will do it." 
 
 At this consent, so long desired, so unex 
 pected when it came, the incredulous lovers 
 looked instinctively into each other's eyes for 
 further confirmation of tidings too good to 
 be believed. Filippa turned impulsively and 
 kissed her mother. 
 
 With a parting word the stranger moved 
 toward the door. Stephen grasped him by 
 the hand, and exclaimed with feeling, 
 
 " And for myself, too, I am much obliged 
 266 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 to you ! I shall be all right after this. I know 
 it. I I did n't deserve such help." 
 
 Returning the pressure and looking kindly 
 into the lover's eyes, the man replied, 
 
 " There is honor for the vanquished." 
 
 And he departed. 
 
 Dr. Thorne with the grateful mother fol 
 lowed him to the parlor door, but a warmer 
 interest drew Stephen back into the chamber. 
 Approaching the girl whose good opinion he 
 felt he had no right to claim, he said in a 
 low voice, 
 
 " I don't see how you stand by me, 
 Filippa. Throw me over and I won't say a 
 word." 
 
 She came nearer and stood close against 
 him. Drawing both hands gently across his 
 cheeks as if to smooth away all trace of 
 suffering, she smiled and looked up into his 
 face. 
 
 " Stevey darling, no matter how bad you 
 are, or whatever you may do, I forgive you 
 now, in advance." 
 
 At the next performance, Monday after 
 noon, Stephen and Filippa ran out into the 
 
 267 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 arena as usual, were hoisted to the upper air, 
 and there, aloft, upon the high trapeze, they 
 excited the wonder of the audience. 
 
 At the right moment, when Filippa, alone 
 and hanging by her hands, had acquired a 
 long, appalling swing, the music ceased. 
 
 Then, in a silence so profound that nothing 
 was heard except the creaking of the iron 
 rings that held the two trapezes to the trusses 
 of the roof, she let go her hold and sailed 
 away. Among the thousands of upturned 
 faces there were some that grew a trifle paler. 
 And no one breathed. 
 
 Steve, head downward, hanging by his 
 knees from the other trapeze, came soaring 
 up in that direction, as usual, in the very nick 
 of time, and, as usual, cool-headed and with 
 strength to spare. He clutched the out 
 stretched hands. The music burst madly 
 forth, rejoicing, triumphant; Filippa clam 
 bered to the bar above, and Stephen followed. 
 
 To and fro they swung, a fearful distance, 
 showering kisses to the applauding multitude 
 below. 
 
 Both were breathing fast. As they started 
 on a forward journey like birds above a field 
 268 
 
Gloria Victis 
 
 of human faces, Filippa's hair flying back 
 ward from her temples, the artificial rose 
 a-flutter, Steve turned and looked into the 
 eyes beside him. There was too much 
 noise up there for conversation, but no 
 words were needed. The short glance into 
 each other's faces revealed all they had to 
 say, not all, of course, but the most impor 
 tant. Her answering smile told the simple 
 story of an unalterable trust. 
 
 And perhaps Stephen made no mistake in 
 believing himself the happiest man in that vast 
 enclosure or in the world. 
 
 269 
 
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