bjective which for the moment gave him rest
from useless speculation. But even while walking to the library he
felt a new and growing passion within him: bitterness towards the man
who was responsible for taking her away from him. That Sorez' claim
of being able to find the girl's father was merely to cover a selfish
object was of course obvious. He was playing upon her fancy and
sympathy. How the girl must love this father to be lured from home by
the chance phantom in a crystal picture--to be willing to follow a
stranger half around the globe, perhaps, because of his promise and a
dream. Yet, it was so he knew that her nature must love--it was so he
would have her love. It was this capacity for fanatical devotion which
struck a responsive chord in his own heart. Her love would not allow
her to have her father dead even though the report came. Her love
admitted no barriers of land or sea. If so she was inspired by calm,
filial love, what would she not do for love of her mate? If this
mysterious stranger had but died--he clenched his teeth. That was
scarcely a humane or decent thing to wish.

He found a chair in one corner of the reading room and borrowed the
most powerful reading glass used in the library. It was only by
showing his manuscript that he was able to secure it. Even then they
looked at him a bit askance, and made him conscious once more that his
head was still bandaged. He had forgotten all about this, and in
another minute he had forgotten all about it once again.

One of the manuscripts which he spread out upon the desk before him
contained but little writing. A crudely drawn map filled almost the
entire space. A drawing in the upper left-hand corner represented a
blazing sun, and in the lower left-hand corner another gave the points
of the compass. This doubtless served to illustrate the contents of
the other manuscript.

The parchment had been rolled so long and so tightly that it was
almost impossible to straighten it out. He worked carefully for fear
of cracking it. It was a matter requiring some patience, and consumed
the best part of half an hour. He found that the writing had been
preserved wonderfully well although, as he learned later, many of the
words were so misspelled or poorly written as to be undecipherable.
The writing itself was painfully minute and labored--as though each
letter had been formed with the greatest effort and considerable
uncertainty. It was as though the author were th