a
flood of passionate tears.

CHAPTER IX

DESPAIR

To the very dawn of Nan's wedding day Stuart had refused to give up
hope.

The little financier had sent him an invitation, and worst of all had
called to ask that he act as his best man. He refused so curtly that
Bivens was deeply wounded. He hastened to soothe his feelings with a
plausible explanation.

"The fact is, Bivens, I've always hated church funerals and
weddings--of the two I prefer funerals----"

"Nonsense!"

"I assure you I'm not joking. Those long hideous veils and white
shroud-like dresses to me always symbolize Death. The pallor of the
bride's face perhaps adds to my delusion--but it's painfully real. I
never go to a church wedding. The apparition haunts me for days."

Bivens smiled wanly.

"But what will you do when your time comes, old man? You can't run away
then."

"That's just what I will do--run away and take my girl with me. We'll
elope and be married in street clothes. It's more human."

While he spoke, Stuart's eyes suddenly sparkled with the thought that
his words, spoken in jest, might be a prophecy of what could really
happen. It had happened again and again. The miracle might happen to
him.

"But I say, Jim, that's all rot. I want you to stand by me. I've always
taken as much of your friendship as you would give and been grateful
for it. I don't make new friends easily. I want you, and you've just
got to do it."

Stuart shook his head and firmly set his jaws. A grim temptation
flashed through his imagination. If he should accept, it might be the
one thing which would prevent Nan's betrayal of her love at the altar.
Might he not by the power of his personality, the hypnotic force of his
yearning passion and will, stop the ceremony? In the moment of
deathlike silence which should follow the minister's words asking if
there were any cause known why these two should not be made one, might
not a single movement of his body at that moment, a groan of pain, a
sob, a cry of agony in a supreme act of his will, cause the white
figure to reel and fall at his feet? It was possible.

But it would be too cheap. It would be a worthless victory, a victory
of the flesh without the spirit--and he refused to take the body
without the soul.

With a frown he turned to Bivens:

"It's no use talking, Cal, I've made up my mind. I won't do it."

"Well, if you won't, you won't," the little man said with a sigh. "At
least you'll come