At that moment a deep organ note sounded far away upon the
stillness, and King took a step inside, looking cautiously about him.
The figure he pursued had vanished, and after a moment more he crossed
the vestibule and stood, hat in hand, gazing into the dim depths beyond.
For a little, coming as he had from the strong light of the September
afternoon, he could see absolutely nothing; but as his vision cleared he
was able to make out a small group of people far toward the front of the
spacious interior, and the form of the organist himself before his
manuals low at the right of the choir. But he had to look for some time
before he could descry at the farthermost side of the church a solitary
head bent upon the rail before it. Toward this point the young man
slowly made his way, his heart hammering a most unwonted tattoo within
his broad breast.
Several pews behind and to one side of the kneeling figure he took his
place, his gaze fastened upon it. He looked his fill, secure in his own
position, which was in the shadow of a great stone pillar, where the
dim light from the sombre-toned windows did not touch him. And, as he
looked, the conviction he had had since his first meeting with this girl
deepened and strengthened into resolution. He would not lose her again,
no matter what it might cost to hold her. He would not believe a man
could be mistaken in that face, in that exquisite and arresting
personality.
Pages:
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167