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lighthouse； her pony； of his own accord； from force of habit；
turned smartly into the wood road。 And again from force of habit；
before he reached the spot that overlooked the sea； he came to a
full stop。 There was no need to make him fast。 For hours；
stretching over many summer days； he had stood under those same
branches patiently waiting。
On foot； her heart beating tremulously； stepping reverently； as
one enters the aisle of some dim cathedral； Helen advanced into
the sacred circle。 And then she stood quite still。 What she had
expected to find there she could not have told； but it was gone。
The place was unknown to her。 She saw an opening among gloomy
pines； empty； silent； unreal。 No haunted house； no barren moor；
no neglected graveyard ever spoke more poignantly； more
mournfully； with such utter hopelessness。 There was no sign of
his or of her former presence。 Across the open space something
had passed its hand； and it had changed。 What had been a
trysting…place； a bower； a nest； had become a tomb。 A tomb； she
felt； for something that once had been brave； fine； and
beautiful； but which now was dead。 She had but one desire； to
escape from the place； to put it away from her forever； to
remember it； not as she now found it； but as first she had
remembered it； and as now she must always remember It。 She turned
softly on tiptoe as one who has intruded on a shrine。
But before she could escape there came from the sea a sudden gust
of wind that caught her by the skirts and drew her back； that set
the branches tossing and swept the dead leaves racing about her
ankles。 And at the same instant from just above her head there
beat upon the air a violent； joyous tattooa sound that was
neither of the sea nor of the woods； a creaking； swiftly repeated
sound； like the flutter of caged wings。
Helen turned in alarm and raised her eyesand beheld the
sailorman。
Tossing his arms in a delirious welcome； waltzing in a frenzy of
joy； calling her back to him with wild beckonings； she saw him
smiling down at her with the same radiant； beseeching；
worshipping smile。 In Helen's ears Latimer's commands to the
sailorman rang as clearly as though Latimer stood before her and
had just spoken。 Only now they were no longer a jest； they were a
vow； a promise； an oath of allegiance that brought to her peace；
and pride； and happiness。
〃So long as I love this beautiful lady；〃 had been his foolish
words； 〃you will guard this place。 It is a life sentence！〃
With one hand Helen Page dragged down the branch on which the
sailorman stood； with the other she snatched him from his post of
duty。 With a joyous laugh that was a sob； she clutched the
sailorman in both her hands and kissed the beseeching；
worshipping smile。
An hour later her car； on its way to Boston； passed through Fair
Harbor at a rate of speed that caused her chauffeur to pray
between his chattering teeth that the first policeman would save
their lives by landing them in jail。
At the wheel； her shoulders thrown forward； her eyes searching
the dark places beyond the reach of the leaping head…lights Helen
Page raced against time； against the minions of the law； against
sudden death； to beat the midnight train out of Boston； to assure
the man she loved of the one thing that could make his life worth
living。
And close against her heart； buttoned tight beneath her
great…coat； the sailorman smiled in the darkness； his long watch
over； his soul at peace； his duty well performed。
Chapter 6。 THE MIND READER
When Philip Endicott was at Harvard； he wrote stories of
undergraduate life suggested by things that had happened to
himself and to men he knew。 Under the title of 〃Tales of the
Yard〃 they were collected in book form； and sold surprisingly
well。 After he was graduated and became a reporter on the New
York Republic； he wrote more stories； in each of which a reporter
was the hero； and in which his failure or success in gathering
news supplied the plot。 These appeared first in the magazines；
and later in a book under the title of 〃Tales of the Streets。〃
They also were well received。
Then came to him the literary editor of the Republic； and said：
〃There are two kinds of men who succeed in writing fictionmen
of genius and reporters。 A reporter can describe a thing he has
seen in such a way that he can make the reader see it； too。 A man
of genius can describe something he has never seen； or any one
else for that matter； in such a way that the reader will exclaim：
'I have never committed a murder； but if I had； that's just the
way I'd feel about it。' For instance； Kipling tells us how a
Greek pirate； chained to the oar of a trireme； suffers； how a
mother rejoices when her baby crawls across her breast。 Kipling
has never been a mother or a pirate； but he convinces you he
knows how each of them feels。 He can do that because he is a
genius； you cannot do it because you are not。 At college you
wrote only of what you saw at college； and now that you are in
the newspaper business all your tales are only of newspaper work。
You merely report what you see。 So； if you are doomed to write
only of what you see； then the best thing for you to do is to see
as many things as possible。 You must see all kinds of life。 You
must progress。 You must leave New York； and you had better go to
London。〃
〃But on the Republic；〃 Endicott pointed out； 〃I get a salary。 And
in London I should have to sweep a crossing。〃
〃Then；〃 said the literary editor； 〃you could write a story about
a man who swept a crossing。〃
It was not alone the literary editor's words of wisdom that had
driven Philip to London。 Helen Carey was in London； visiting the
daughter of the American Ambassador； and； though Philip had known
her only one winter； he loved her dearly。 The great trouble was
that he had no money； and that she possessed so much of it that；
unless he could show some unusual quality of mind or character；
his asking her to marry him； from his own point of view at least；
was quite impossible。 Of course； he knew that no one could love
her as he did； that no one so truly wished for her happiness； or
would try so devotedly to make her happy。 But to him it did not
seem possible that a girl could be happy with a man who was not
able to pay for her home； or her clothes； or her food； who would
have to borrow her purse if he wanted a new pair of gloves or a
hair…cut。 For Philip Endicott； while rich in birth and education
and charm of manner； had no money at all。 When； in May； he came
from New York to lay siege to London and to the heart of Helen
Carey he had with him； all told； fifteen hundred dollars。 That
was all he possessed in the world； and unless the magazines
bought his stories there was no prospect of his getting any more。
Friends who knew London told him that； if you knew London well；
it was easy to live comfortably there and to go about and even to
entertain modestly on three sovereigns a day。 So； at that rate；
Philip calculated he could stay three months。 But he found that
to know London well enough to be able to live there on three
sovereigns a day you had first to spend so many five…pound notes
in getting acqu