THE CHANCE.

Evening Post, Volume LXXIV, Issue 150, 21 December 1907, Page 13

THE CHANCE.

(For The Post.) By C. Allan Markis.— (All Eights RoserreJ.)

•revolver. '"I will send your soul to find his soul for its eternal lccompoiiho." Tn. the brief inttant before .t ho flash, as the woman stood eye to cyo with death, the opprec-sion in her heart iose f.wiftlv <jnd broke; her brain became suddenly no/mal, and ahe lifted herself fearIcfs for "the .■hock. Tho report stunned her, the jmoko blinded her, and she rcelsd heavily, but only for- .1 few seconds. Then her old seH-rcliuicc returned when she knew that, though but a. 'matter of a dozen paces separated them, the nervcicss hand had shaken oil its mack. With leaping strides she went across the room as the cinoke swung to and fro, eddied slowly, and faded to the ceiling. But there was no need of haste. Barres, his faro' distorted, his eyes protruding, was leaning heavily agajust the coiner next the door ; at his' feet tho discarded weapon. His passion had wrung the life out of him for the time being, and he hung there incapable, gasping. As she stooped and lifted tho revolver she could hear icet racing up thj staircase, and presently hands knocking nt the • door, demanding entrance. Considering the situation, she turned the key in the lock. Then, with subtle explanation and assurance, she diove away the clamouring people outside, for while it was pojpible, no hint of this caricature of a tragedy and the history leading up to it, should leach the ouUido world, lor her. own sake and tho sake of the. man who, unable to live without lict, was lying dead in some back street. Facing the task before her. she questioned what was beet to bo dono. Her blocd throbbed in exhilaration to know death nnd' looked hei\ between the eyes and hid been outwitted: to know, too, that her enemy stood before her, humiliated, absolutely in her power. To expose the squalid affair was the one thing she must not do, for sentiments' sake.' Her mind decided on another course. She would etsay reparation to the dead, and in her own way. She swung round once more to the man huddled by the corner, and' poked the dull-gleaming barrel a hands-breadth from his eyes. Hio spoke tauntingly, threateningly, trying him ; but ho did not flinch. "^hoot and be damned to you !" '•I am afraid lost my aim be too accurate," she told him. "You're tho devil's own,' 1 ho snarled back. "Xot I,"' she retorted ; "net I; but you. How, otherwise, could you havo missed ?" s ■'I should not miss a Fecond time." She laughed quietly. ''There will bo no second time for you. You had your chance, and lost it — and at only twelve p-itcs ! Yet." she went on, "you shall hn,vc a. second chinec — of a different character. I will be fair — generous towards you. Whether you wish it or not, I am about to place you unrW the deepest, most splendid of obligations to myself. I hold your life in the hollow of my right hand ; there can be no denial of that. You have blundered badly. George Barres, and given the game to my hand. Yet, for the isake of him — your brother and my brave friend — hero and now I give you back your life." The revolver spun across the room. The man stirred a little. "No," he said ; "I would have kiJlod you." "But you have no choice, no alternative. The gift beyond all gifts — life--" ">~o,"' he reiterated, .sullenly, "thoro was love, and you withheld it from him. He was my brother — keep your gift!"' . Unheeding his obstinacy, she went on : '•Jsut there is a condition attached ' to the bnreain — a, rather hard condition. Just this — that henceforward you strangle your' vides,- overcome your frailties, and play the nian. Cut loose from the old evils, right ycuiself, snd get into harness again — for your brother's sake." There was no' gleam in the marred face before her. "I am done ; I am too far down the hill." "But not 'at tho bottom yet." "It is not so far away." ' She urged "him': "'Become a 'man and climb back.' 1 . He shook his. head, a picture of very hopelessness thau reached her heait. The clock-chime roused her to other considerations; she must got Barres away from the room, out of the house, quietly and unobserved. For the hour of rehearsal was approaching, and if she wciv>\ not -there her rotund' manager would suicly be round <o know why. Unlocking tho door, and beckoning him, she saw her prisoner out before her, and with feminine subtlety and unsuspicious manoeuvring . they passed downstairs safely to the side entrance. Once there, she stood barring fris way, for she still had a word for him, tho unkempt would-be murderer, who stood resentful, his face averted. "Play the game, George Barres, remembering that since there's a way down tlie'hill, there is ever a way back. And believe me that I loved him as a brothcT, a comrade, and that now I have won where I stand to-day, I would have laisecl him too. Good-bye." She held out her hand, but the man turned without a word, and slouched into the long sheet. 111. True, the 'quondam understudy had become a star, and of the first magnitude. She let slip the fateful past from her shoulders as a beggar, suddenly sprung into opulence, discards hie old garments. Her grict for the impulsive, impotuous dead she lost in the whirlwind of her stienuous profession. Her path was lined with expansive managers proffering fabulous engagements, and to further soften the way to her feet there were shewn bushels of laudatory press notices and the rose-leavos of adulation. And none knew the rigid self-denial her unfailing successes entailed ; few guessed at the coriceloss care and heavy application her f.nne demanded of her. Yet now with the world at her ieet, ravished by her splendid, supreme art — that ait that exacted all her energy, her inspiration, for -its well-being — she was applying hciself as closely to her work as eyer she had dono before tho great opportunity. Well she knew that, sooner or later, this sacrifice to art would be complete, her body and soul worn out. For her inspiration was- as ;i consuming fire iii her being, and sho was feeding the flame prodigally, extravagantly. So she journeyed down the years, ever triumphant, waxing more brilliant as time grew apace. All that fame and glory could offer her had been offered. Her worshippers, numberless, and of all classes, burnt the fragrant inceu.se of approbation prodigally on her shrine. Ti.io wonderful power of hers had thrilled her at frrst, but now she wielded it mechanically, yet never for a day losing her grip. And in those few sacred le£ sure moments when she could shut out her art, the world and all, and commune with her thoughts alone, that day, when the gates of chance blew open swiftly before her eyes, would lift up its vision for her dear delight. For on that day of days she had wondered what ten mutable years would bring forth of good or evil ; that day was now eight years old. and her cup was full to overflowing. Unthinkingly she hail sot the yea is as a limit to her life before ihe'cuitiiin, and a feeling possessed her in her soul's quiet that destiny also bad apportioned her so far and not beyond. She- wondeied then, without misgivings or a shadow of fear, iiv what £uif<? tins second gio.it ciisis «houlil appear. Should it be ,is a giouing necessity born of misfortune, of mishap, oi as a voluntary l^liuqinshmoni of hei wintlcrful york? Mir muld nol Ml. an'l rr.icrl not at all When the irisis did loom up, she \va6 amte euie that, how.-

this son of Lorraine so vitally, though the blow was ever given with a gloved hand. Latterly Barres had been more persistent, and slio did not like the tense expression of his drawn whito face at her nay. Ho so believed in her potentialities that if her refusal hurt him, it Imit her too. But sho was steadfast in this thing. As a companion, a confidant,' ho was beyond all others; as a lover — a barrier lifted immediately. "Come, when Art, my divinity, tires ot me, discards me, worn-out with service. Come anil ask me again then, an you dare, for I c-hall be old and in sad need of a. friend," sho' bad told him in good faith, for hist small comfort. And now (hat the understudy had become a "star" she looked forward to drawing him up with her as she climbed. But sho hoped, for both their sakes, In would stifle his desperate, hopsless passion. She wondered if he had witnessed her acclamation ; he. had not come round to congratulate her. . . Footsteps on the stair and n knock at the door shattered her day-dream, and the slatternly small maid- entered with her letters. II. 1 ' ' ' Dazed and horror-stricken, her golden visions fled where sho might not follow, her marvellous new day stripped of its splendour, and cold with sorrow, the woman turned to the letter, crushed in her palm. Her stunned senses refused to comprehend it« acute message rightfully, it was all so horrible, so full 'of despair and death. If it were indeed true (and how could she doubt it?) how far was sho culpable? Did h? blame her? What did the letter toll her?" Shaking, she smoothed it, and read : "Friend of my heart. — How can I write these sorrowful words! I have said adieu these. 'many times, my soul sad at the parting even for a day, two days : my heart breaks to think of a leave-taking tor eternity ! Still it must b». You, wheic you stand, I, where 1 am : so wide a gulf may not be bridged. And since I cannot live away trom you (how often' I have sworn it !) — why then, dreading tho complete separation your new and wonderful fame threatens, I will dio while- tho blessed memory of your friendship is still warm with me. You have bidden me — always gently, too, mon ami— overcome my useless, hopeless passion ; but for my failure blame the mother-blood of France in my veins. Bear with mo a little for the sake of old days. Remember this of me, if all else go in tho glamour of timo : I was tho first to recognise and believe in the possibilities that opportunities has proven, and never that belief wavered. 'Go on and • conquer the world, even us I shal' conquer the great mystery. For you, ma chere, the curtain rises, . for me it falls ; yet I will be brave.. • Good-bye, and ever good-bye." . With a cry, she cast tho sheets from her, sinking 1 her • face 'in her hands Her triumph had brought this for her misery, her dowiicasting ; had slain her chief test friend :that friend, for whom she would have done so much now tho power lay with her. That ho never could know it ; never know , that she cpuld remeuiber tho helping hand in the past days of stress — that was tho bitterest part 1 . . • •The little clock behind her struck the hour silvernly. Once more there were feet on the stairs, * the •■half-shut door creaked open, and someone ,shuffled on the threshold. '■What is it," she asked wearily, without raising her head. Receiving no reply, she uncovered her face, stained with • sharp sorrow. In, the. doorway hung an" image of dissipation, a man , battered, unkempt, and altogether wretched. He stood still, staring, at her -with heavy-lidded, bloodshot eyes lit with little beacon of danger. Her first astonishment) past, she marked the figure attenuated with want and vice, the, weak- irresolute mouth, tho doubtful chin. Oh, but he was' a mere handful of a man, a wreck, a derelict beyond hope or retrieval ! But she marked, too, tho glsarn ,in his eves, and braced herself. There was a little humour in the thought that flushed into her brain that, if it came to a hand-to-hand business, sho could throw him out bodily. J ""What do you want with me?" She spoke, weatching the intruder warily. He shuffled into -the room, and, still facing her, closed the door behind him. "What do I want with you?" he wheezed. "You traitress, your murderess — what should I want with you !" God knows," sho answered^ him, believing him mad. And she wandered what further calamity fate had for her. "You killed my brother. I am George Barres. Can you guess now why I have come?" She recalled the story, told her long ago, of this man's downfall, his degradation, his descent into the pit from a commendable seat among his tellows. And in the strange danger she blamed him less than before, seeing his weak mouth. She started forward a stride, her hands out before her, shielding. Her voice shook on the denial: "No, no; he is not dead, my truest friend !" "Who else bred his hopelessness, his despair: who else? - I kuow who has shared . his room. J know, too, whose name ne cried in his dreams. Youi», you harlot !'-' His right hand twitched nervously in its pocket. It unnerved her. "Believe me; as I stand, I loved him as a friend, a brother. What haim could I wish him? How could I Know he would do this thing?" "You slew my brother," he repeated. "You 1 bioko 111s heart, his spirit, and back there in the little room he phot himself at dawn. Little be cared for me— such as I am, but he was still my brother. I knew him for a brave, strong man till you came. And ho is dead because of you. Oh, the despair on his poor face !" The woman leaned forward, her lithe body^ swaying, her head rocking. "Don't ! for mercy's sake." she broke out. "I would have saved him, done so much for him!" "It is much too late now; tksre's little reward for the dead but a quiet bed in a quiet place. And to think that for years ho walked with you, cheered you, encouraged you ; spending his soul to save you ! Kad he not a right to expect a little recompense, a little hope for his one desire? Oh, but you wore miserly nordinn up those riches, a meagre dole of which would have saved a brave man. And he was my brother." He stopped, wheezing terribly, his eyes fixing her in all their balefulness. i»lip decided it was useless to defend hertVlf further ; the miserable quarrel hurt her too deeply. This man was mad with hate, or drunk, but "What is it you want with me?" she asked, wearily, aeain. Her whole beincr seemed suffocated by a hcinenrious cloud that she felt must crush out, hei life jf naught intervened. Then the demon in tho mnn seized .md shook him. ''I have brought you here a rpward. Look! Look' 1 lie almost screamed. "T have mine in kill ynu '" His right haud lesj^d from thf pocket, and the aim stretched out. crippuic a

I. She. threw herself on the faded ottonia.n, her hands clasped behind Uer head, a groat triumph in her heart. She, had -trod tha furnace, and come forth unscathed, glorified, to a thunder of mad applause. The tremendous trial was over, tho supreme moment of her career, when a 'stumble meant a swift slide into that dreaded mediocrity of her profession, the drab shabby-genteel refuge of incompetent, or more often, unfortunate, mummer — the "barnstormer"' combination haunting the small provincial towns. Last evening she had come brilliantly into her own. Had she not read the morning journals her own intuition would havo been sufficient. Fortune had suddenly repented of his longbroken promises, and had taken her hand,* being justified of her. Sho had Leijed .opportunity, and very surely would hold his leading-string to the end. It was only yesterday that tho rotund' manager, shaking with excitement, and unnerved by his unexpected misfortune, had raced round to her room, and burst in upon, her, cursing his ill -luck. He was frantic. Tho leading lady, his only hope in a dull season that promised diminished receipts, was down, hopelessly unfit, by. an attack of ho knew not .what. The understudy must fill the gap ; must save the. situation as well as could be expected ; must bo prepared, to go on that very night, tomorrow night, till tho "star" could reappear, Then, if the piece were not effectually damned and his life-long reputation dragged in the mud, he trusted to his own genius to right matters. Twenty-five years of management, and never was ho in euch need of a sheet-anchor as now to keep the ship off the rocks ! Much more the perspiring littlo man snid. with appropriate gesture and much facial perturbation ; and with a final and sol?mn • exhortation "to her, "For God's sake." to excel herself, and get into line with, this occasion, that threatened to overturn his prosperity" utterly, he rushed out and away. 'And she remembered it now, with her triumph about her, how, once he. had .disappeared fear-smitten, she had burst out laughing at. his woebegone <"at countenance and its discomfiture. She brought to mind that ncr first "star" rehearsal had not pleased him, when, shaking his head dolefully, and nervously racking his coat buttons, he had drifted out scolding and swearing. It had not pleased herself either, wordperfect as she was. Over-anxious, strained, artificially ineffective," she knew that, unless she recovered herself, the dreaded night would ftffectually set back all the hot desire and ambition that had sustained her through many and many a year of stubborn aspiration, daunted God only knew how- often. For tonight, she had told herself, was the ■great opportunity dreamed of over and over again ; tho . glorious chance of her upliftment. Would she fail? In her soul she was confident tbat in the ordinary course of affairs, her art, a wellspring of inspiration, fostered and^ perfected by close observation and assiduous practico, was .all-sufficient to lift' her well above . the ruck of the stragglers and. .strugglers against the wall, or, perhaps, to that plane whereon dwell for ever the magic queens of the greenroom. To prove herself ! . How often, how long she had, prayed!, in tho hopeless days for.' an occasion such as before her to-night. , ' And how, with the opportunity looming near, her brain reeled 'a little, 'her heart thumped restlessly. Surely they would not fail her in this, ' her crisis ! She" remembered' again — and her hands behind '.her clenched at the thought — > tho. dreamlike' vision of the first act"; her hysterics in lieu' of a deep, quiet sorrow, her woodenness, her extravagant pestures ; and " with the curtain, the deadly silence of an audience disinterested, disappointed. Despair dragged at her feet a 6 she went to her dressing-room,-and her heart was full of bitterness. And the &mal' fat manager, frantic and profane, almost shook her as he adjured her, in strange uncouth phrases, to let herself out, to act! act! or break down and put nim out of his misery. In his worst /iolent phase she had pushed him firmly to the door, and slammed it between them. And then a flood of strength — come whence she knew aot — hacl driven the bitterness from her heart, and the fear from her soul. Her spirit re-asserted itself. After ten years of struggle, with fame awaiting her -before tho curtain — was she to lose her chance through a subtle stage-fright? A great confidence had swelled within her, her balance rushed back, and all the passon of her art drove her forwaid resistlessl y. Heedless of the staring faces above, below her, careless of aught save the tragedy that swung round her, a central impassioned figure full of sorrow, full of wrong, presenting s orave woman's" antagonism, 'to such birds of mischance, she "let herself out,'.' acting with all her soul, and all her art's capacity. And as surely as she Knew her failure in the first act, so surely sho knew her victory when the orchestra drummed the rustling murmuring crowd out under the cold sky, and the breathless .manager ambled round with blessings and congratulations, and an invitation to. supper. At peace with the. world, the victory to her hand, the critics appraising her in a wonderful unanimity, led captive by, the new "star"' that had swum so unexpectedly into their ken, the late understudy lounged cosily, experiencing to the full the sublimity of the conqueror who has. overcome once and for all time a. nightmare of an adversary. No more doubts, no moro. heart breaks, no moro heart-anguish for the future ! £he reminded "herself, 'ooking back on flis long grey years of her probation, that in ,the face of despair, and despite she had been brave, self-reliant always, always unsparing of effort, .sworn ever to attain her ideal, and as unselfish as she could be. Ten long, long years ! She warmed with joy to guess at what ten years ahead might mean for her : all she had ever dreamed of, or hoped for. Yes, ten years- would content her; ten years of honour, of acclamation. She had no one dependent on her ; no orotfter or sister. Her heart remembered an ill-kept mound in a dear old churchyard away among tho storm-bit-ten northern hills, baneath which slept the parents her childhood had never known. And her friends? They could be counted on the fingers of one hand, those worthy. With keen perception she counted no women among them. As she knew, and had known them, her own sex lacked absolutely any ailinity for her, 'arked .self-reliance — amounting in herself almost to manliness— so much a part of herself, and so much her admiration in others. She hacl pro\ed them pelfish, and dangerous as confidants. And then shot up before her the iace oi him who had strengthened her with good counsel in the dark days, whose optimism had silver-lined for her many a cloud — generous-hearted Glaude Ba.rre.". An sho sighed in think how t.he close companionship had. on the man's side, glowed into 3 clean passion; of the repeated protestation of love, and the freatle- repeated refusals Hut hurt

pver the resultant issue might threaten, she would not go down without 3 struggle. Meanwhile Ihe sun was about her on every side, and she tiod the path before her hi stainless isolation and high purpose, never permitting her faith to waver at the turn in the lanp, Iho dark corner leading whither sho might uot oven guess. So to the last stage of her preconceived term of felicity, of fame; to the fulfilment of the trust the gods had bestowed upon her. And, latterly, she was conscious that her will-summoned surge of passion whoso flood bore her so tumultuously through her most tiementions scenes, came not fo impetuously to her bidding. Gradually, very gradually, her abandon lost its verve, her tragic flights became slower, and more laborious. Evidently the fire, was burning lower, tho well-spring of inspiration failing. Xo efforts of her could mitigate these symptoms of her declination ; could effectually defy these forerunners of dethronement. "Every succeeding trial impressed her wuh the inevitable isyae awaiting her not far off; convinced her it was useless to attempt moro thau a brave resistance — to go dowa but fighting. It hurt her n little when the critics hummed in unde-rtones of the signs of a decline, suggesting honourable retirement ere the evil day. But she did not blamo thorn, upbraid them, even to herself. The decreasing acclamation, tho diminishing '"houses" informed her the tide whirh had risen so swiftly was setting oack. And here she asked if it was not more, commendable to .leave the Fcenes of so many triumphs with tho glamour of hers golden prime still softening about her. than to be coaxed off, stripped of the purple, a discomfited, unhappy artist who had outlived her usefulness. Tn the matter of friendships sho had been through all as in the dark dayn — isolate, and girt with an impenetrable reserve. Now the thought c truck through her, with the calamity before her : who should tend her coming long loneliness when the curtain had fallen for her" for the last time, and the flame of her being loft her dull and cold? Her mistress, her comforter, her mainstay — Art — departed, whence might she turn? There was ono way — a man ; not a friend, so far as she knew. Perhaps ho would be grateful. She sent to him, and wondered curiously if ho would come. At his footstep she experienced a strange feeling of exhilaration which warmed as he bowed before her, a well-groomed man, with a strife-beaten face, and a perceptible stoop. "Sit down," she said. "I was half afraid you had not forgotten, you would refuse to come." '"I have- not forgotten, and th.pref.ore I am here. You are Ln trouble — the critics?" "ln the wakes of affliction, with no hand lo aid mo; and my sun is sinking. Oh, for a Joshua to uphold him !" Then sho asked him slraightly what she should do in this final crisis, and ho advised her as she hoped he would. This settled, she felt more at rest, and her confidence came back. "A many things ha\;e happened since a memorable day nigh on ten years ago," r-hc said, speaking easily; "a many things. Since we last parted, 1 havo conquered the world, and you — you. have conquered yourself. George jjarres, you havo played tho mau. As I know you would, "' eho added, smiling across to him. "For bis sake." ho answered, and looking her steadily in tho face, "and yours." fc'hc avoided the personality. "He was a bravo man, and sleeps well, I doubt not. I like to ' think that he, whe"re he is, may know and share that fame ho believed so faithfully I should achieve. And I tell myself that now the world has no further use- for 1110 perhaps ho shall comfort mo in somo mystic way., Gcorgo Barres." sho broke forth impetuously, "will you take back the slander you gave me, now you have become once more a man?" 1 "'Since, I have become a man again, I have token back a thousand times, cursing myself for that miserable clay and its mad work. The humiliation has been a nightmare I could not exorcise. Can you forgive me? I bring my grey head as witness for my Gethsemanc and tho awful penance." ."Since you havo ■ become a man, I have forgiven you fully. , If you could know my admiration for your marvellous resurrection you would not doubt mo. Ah!" she sighed, "thank God for brave men !" In that moment the man saw and knew her for what she was, what she had ever been, and the memory of his past indignity, his cowardly assault, burned within him like fire. • His voice shook with agony. "Your mercy breaks me, overwhelms me!" he cried. "But I would prove myself worthy your mighty compassion." On a sudden he knelt before her, his eyes misty. "Prove me,' try me," he pleaded, "even unto death," and caught her hand. "I mind me of a time you refused that same hand, even though I offered it you, and hero you take it without permission. What would you, George Barres?" she asked him, cunningly, foreseeing all. "I would and might watch over you for ever, spending my life for you." Steadily she told him : "You would wed with a friendless woman, and soon be old." "I shall soon be old, also,' was all his reply. "My sun is sinking fast." "I shall uphold it till the great eclipse," ho replied. Her vanity gloried in his fervour. "I am a, cast-off, a reject of""the world." "Therein is my hope," he said ; '"the greater need for my love to shelter you." ■ "I can spare- you but little love/ my store is so small." His answer satisfied her. "So matter how little it be, God knows I do not deserve it." Then she stood up straight and tall, lifted the man to his feet, and kissed his brow with her lips. "Ar your bravo mother would have done," she told him.