The Key to Yesterday

n his chair, the South American letter hanging in limp fingers and the coal-oil lamp on the table throwing its circle of light on the foreign postmark and stamp of

f a general who encounters an aggressive enemy bef

ue sense of realization that, if he spoke at all, he must tell the whole story. He had not done so, and now came a new question: Had he the right to tell the story until, in so far as possible, he had probed its mystery? Suppose his worst fears proved themselves. The certainty would be little harder to confess than

lder logic contended there might have been to his present Dr. Jekyll a Mr. Hyde of the past. The letter he held in his hand of course meant nothing more than that Ribero had talked to some one. It might be merely the fault of some idle gossip in a Latin-American café, when the claret flowed too freely. The writer, this unknown "H. S. R.

rmant memory to the stimulus of place and sights and sounds and smells. When he stood at the spot where Carter had faced his executioners, surely, if he were Carter, he would awaken to self-recognition. He would slip away on some pretext, and try out the issue, and then, when he spoke to Duska, he could

He was willing to try himself-to be his own prosecutor, but, if the thing spell

e again whispered seducti

ld he not have the right to feel certain that his memory, so stimulated and still inactive, was not only sleeping, but dead? Would he not be justified in dismissing the fear of a f

his side, not only in the old intimacy, but in the new and more wonderful intimacy that had come of her acknowledged love. He would fini

an out to a jutting promontory of rock. It was a cape in the dim sea of night mist which hung upon, and shrouded, the flats below. Beyond the reaches of silver gray, the more distant hills rose i

ed from the club-house and the bright patches of col

e who gives but once, and gives all without stint or reserve. It was as though she had presented him unconditio

ting her gift with half-confidence and deception. What he did with himself now, he did with her property. He was not at

eeze, the miniature glare fell on her delicately chiseled lips and nose and chin. Her expression made him hesitate. She was very young, very innocently childlike and very happy. To tell her

nce return to the cabin. He wanted the open skies

n was sinking, and the shadows of the garden wall and trees and shrubs fell in long, fantastic angles across the silvered earth. The house itself was dark excep

e thought that his imagination had projected her there. Since she had left him at the stairs, the pictu

her voic

ind sir?" she laughed, happily. "I believe

forward, and s

e said. "What are

ht, or that I can always expect times like these? You know," she taunted, "it was so hard to get you to admit that you

s arms with neither

you. In five minutes, you will probably not even let me speak to you.

She only looked into

epeated, in a bewildered

avowed. "You know it. Your own

losophy, "you had a right to say so-be

e the right. You must forget it. You must forget

ring in her words. "Do you think that I could forget-or that, if I

ing note of a small owl, and across the fields float

. It was only his own voice that seemed to him muffled in a confusion of roa

other failure in the telling of it. He must plunge in after his old

ld be the blow that would free her from the thraldom of the love he had unfairly stolen.

mself, but it was only his eagerness of wish that had kept clamoring concerning the possibility of a favorable solution. All the while, his reason had convicted him. Now, as he spoke, he felt sure, as sure as though he could really remember, and he felt also his unw

course I

you catch the covert innuendoes as he talked-the fact that h

nightmare. She stood so unsteadily that the man took her arm, and led her to the bench against the wall. There, she sank down with her face in her hands. It seemed a century, but

o one did except the two of us-the unmasker and the unmasked. Later, he

ey were icy in his hot clasp, as he

quel was a lie!" She imperiously commanded, yet th

d. "He seemed to know

in his evening clothes was an axis of black and w

s incredulou

epeated, slowly. "You d

d door between himself and the other years. He had presented himself only on

the case step by step as a prosecutor might have done, adding bit of testimony after bit of testimony, and ending with the sentence from the letter, which told him that he had gone West. He had played the coward long enough. Now, he did not even m

t I vaguely feared has come forward. The only thing that

ce as she sat steadily, almost hy

the moment forsaken her, leaving her a shape of slender distress. She rose buoyantly and laughed! W

her arms al

ommanded, har

question

touch Carter. I can't let Carter touch you." He was hol

said, confidently. "They lied abo

er upturned eyes were

is skilfully woven into conviction. They have hanged men on that sort of evidence, but here there is a court of appeals. I know nothing about it. I have only my woma

reme bench, that, for a moment, the ghosts of hope began to rise and gather in

ly, and she had seen only the force of what he had left unsaid. If that could be possible, it might be po

uld speak no word of love to you until I was no longer anon

her hair brushing his face as though she would hold him

you are not, you are no more responsible for that dead life than for

her personality-don't you see? Neither you nor I, dearest, can compromise with d

her head in st

n't let you-and, if you do-" she paused, then added with a smile on her lips that seemed to settle ma