Motion Picture Magazine (Aug 1914-Jan 1915)

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60 MOTION PICTURE MAGAZINE shoulder; but she fired surely, and Richmond fell to the ground, unconscious. Feverishly, life high in the ascendant, Kate searched for the warrant, and she trembled between weakness and eager joy when she discovered it. The wound, slight in itself, was telling on her, and her work was not yet over. The warrant had to be destroyed — its dread import rendered forever negligible to man. A swift glance showed her that Richmond was little more wounded than herself, and, dizzy with relieved joy and increasing faintness, she mounted and rode over to a spot not far distant, where the burning of the warrant was done in seclusion and in thoroness. After that nothing seemed to matter but succumbing to the earth, that spun around her in ever-increasing revolutions, and the tired head drooped back against a tree, knocking off the jaunty, close-cropped wig and disclosing against the green of the grass a sheaf of golden hair. It was so that Harry Richmond found her when, his wound dressed by the innkeeper near-by, he was resuming the road to Edinburgh. He stood a moment looking at her, reconciling the slim youth with the fragile, spirited girl, and somehow the reconciliation was surprisingly easy and perilously dear. He forgot, for the instant, the danger she had placed him in : forgot that his life might be forfeit for the prank that she had played ; forgot all else but that the winsome lad, the gallant robber of the road, was a lovely, wounded woman. Deftly he bandaged the soft, torn flesh of her shoulder, using the lining of his own coat ; then, as she revived, he stood over her, smiling grimly. "Odds! Master Carthew," he mocked, ' ' you play high stakes to suit your passing whim ! " Kate winced. Death-warrants were not whims, God knows — and neither was the wounding — and possible killing— of the one man who had raised that sweet unquiet in her blood. "You speak of what is beyond you, Sir Harry Richmond," she said, rising and facing him haughtily. "lam Lady Katherine Clanronald, and I despoiled you to save my father's life. One does not play for a dear life to gratify a whim, Sir Harry. ' ' Harry Richmond was a man first, and the King's Own second. He did not care for the Earl of Clanronald 's life — a life more or less is not of great moment to a soldier; he did care for the father of Lady Kate. He cared unwarrantably for the stress that showed itself in faint lines about the sweet mouth and in shadows darkening the clear blue of her eyes. "You must come with me, Lady Katherine," he said to her gravely. "I can take you home by post-chaise on my way to Edinburgh. The King will be in Durham tomorrow night. You must make haste and prepare to journey there to see him. There is no time to be lost." Traveling swiftly over the road, Kate told the baronet the entire story : the conspiracy of the Duke of Monmouth, into which her father had reluctantly been dragged; the discovery; the warrants of execution, and the carrying out of the warrant concerning the unfortunate Duke of Monmouth. "He is not overanxious to have your father put to the death," Richmond told her. "In fact, had it not been for my Lord Chief Justice Jeffries and a few of that unworthy 's followers, methinks His Majesty would have canceled the warrant." "What has my Lord Chief Justice against my poor old father?" demanded Lady Kate, indignantly. "Nothing, personally," said Richmond; "only that Protestantism that is the bugbe r of the Catholic James and the weak fact that your father and his ilk might stand between His Majesty and absolute monarchy." ' ' Ah me!" Lady Kate leaned back wearily against the cushions. "Why must men waste this fleeting breath called life in conspiracies and discontents? Why must they go each for the other's throat? There is plenty for all — and God is omnipotent, after all." Richmond pressed the nervous