Oswald Langdon | Page 4

earth. Personal prowess, resistless in
the whirlwind of the charge, is of little avail against modern artillery or
long-range ordnance. The destructive power of modern military
equipment will make adjustment of international differences by
arbitration imperative."
He hedges at this point with the suggestion:
"Still, some crazy autocrat or frenzied people at any time may bring on
far-reaching conflicts, and barbarous hordes will become menaces to
civilization if taught the art of modern warfare."
After a few minutes' further conversation of a general character, Sir
Donald bids Oswald good-night.
Being weary, Oswald soon after retired.
On the waters of a beautiful lake, under a cloudless sky, Oswald is
swiftly sailing. The breeze seconding his own skill, the boat seems
instinct with life. From the wooded bank, around a distant curve,
emerges a small sail with two persons aboard. Nearing the middle of
the lake, he sees a struggle, a splash, then a female form sinking in the
water. With its remaining occupant the boat speeds swiftly away,
disappearing beyond a jutting wooded point. Oswald's sail reaches the
spot, and he rescues the insensible form of a young woman. She revives
and becomes his loving friend. Soon a hateful, sinister face haunts them.
Many snares they unconsciously escape. There is a tangle in the web of
events. They stand upon the banks of a river, near a large city. The girl
clings to him despairingly. Their foe appears, and both are struck from

the bank into the river. Regaining the shore, Oswald flees. Through
terrible mazes he is driven over the earth, with the face of the drowned
girl before his eyes, the shadow of the gallows looming grim and black
at every turn.
With a groan Oswald awakes. The pain in his side and breast is severe,
but the dream seems much more real. He can not easily believe it to be
simply a chimera of an overwrought brain.
CHAPTER III
OSWALD MEETS ESTHER
Late on the following morning a servant called with breakfast. In about
an hour Sir Donald paid Oswald a visit.
Replying to a question as to his night's rest, he complained of severe
pains across his lungs. Sir Donald suggested that a physician be called,
but Oswald declined medical assistance.
After some pleasant talk, Sir Donald informed him that the servant
would be at his command until evening; that in the afternoon Esther
would return from London, and expected her father at the station,
adding: "These little girls must be carefully attended."
Oswald felt a shade of disappointment at this fatherly allusion to little
Esther. Having pictured a graceful young woman of faultless face, form,
and manner, how strong his protest against the displacement of this
ideal, by a rollicking little "tot," full of spoiled temper and domineering
caprice.
Oswald now sees in Sir Donald Randolph less to admire. Mentally
arraigning this aristocrat for his poor taste, he blames the silly father for
having such a daughter. Finally, deciding not to be unduly harsh in his
judgment, as there might have been mitigating circumstances, he is
feeling a sense of self-approval, when voices are heard.
Looking from the window, he sees that pictured ideal coming up the

graveled walk, clasping the hand of Sir Donald, talking as though time
were covenant essence, with forfeiture imminent.
At once all resentment vanishes. This noble father is promptly
reinstated.
Oswald now feels an impulse to apologize for his former verdict and
judgment, but decides, as neither had been announced, to suppress
both.
His pleased fancy pictures pleasant moon-*light strolls, long rides on
horseback, frequent sails upon a wooded lake, numerous tête-à-têtes in
secluded bowers, a sweet girl's tender, wistful smiles, a whispered
proposal, with happy, conditional acceptance, soon followed by a grand
marriage ceremony.
For nearly an hour little matters kept Sir Donald from visiting his guest.
Oswald chafed under this prolonged neglect. Why should he, Oswald
Langdon, with assured honors waiting acceptance, receive such shabby
treatment? To leave promptly would be showing proper spirit.
However, there is little hazard of such commendable spiritual
manifestation.
Strange, Miss Randolph has no more curiosity and shows so little
interest.
Soon Sir Donald called, and asked if Oswald felt able to go downstairs.
"Fully, thank you!" is the animated response.
Leaning on Sir Donald's arm, the young man descends, and enters the
family sitting-room, where he is presented to Esther Randolph.
Habitually at ease in exchange of formal social greetings, Oswald feels
a slight tremor of embarrassment upon his presentation to this beautiful
blushing girl. Such mixture of childish curiosity, impulsive girlish
candor, and unconscious grace, with hesitating modesty, womanly

dignity, and restraints of good breeding, all modulated by eye and
accent, blending with expressive facial lights and shades, is to Oswald
a new creation.
The look of questioning admiration is mutual, each evidently seeing