The City of Fire - Page 37/221

A slight lifting of the chin, a trifle of steel in the kind eyes, a

shade of coolness in the voice, as the clear comprehension of heaven

had sifted the visitor, and the minister said, almost sternly: "Oh, I see," and disappeared through a swinging door into the pantry.

It was about this time that Lynn Severn awoke to near consciousness and

wondered what kind of a queer noisy guest her father had now.

The minister was gone sometime and the guest grew impatient, stamping

up and down the piazza and kicking a porch rocker out of his path. He

looked at his watch and frowned, wondering how near he was to the end

of his detour, and then he started in pursuit of his man, tramping

through the Severn house as if it were a public garage, and almost

running into the minister as he swung the door open. Severn was

approaching with a lighted lantern in one hand and a plate of brown

bread and butter, with a cup of steaming coffee in his other hand.

Laurence Shafton stopped abruptly, a curse on his lips, but something,

either the genial face of the minister, or the aroma of the coffee,

silenced him. And indeed there was something about Graham Severn that

was worth looking at. Tall and well built, with a face at once strong

and sweet, and with a certain luminousness about it that almost seemed

like transparency to let the spirit shine through, although there was

nothing frail about his well cut features.

Laurence Shafton, looking into the frank kind eyes of the minister

suddenly became aware that this man had taken a great deal of trouble

for him. He hadn't brought any liquor, probably because he did not know

enough of the world to understand what it was he wanted, or because he

was playing a joke. As he looked into those eyes and noted with his

half befuddled senses the twinkle playing at the corners he was not

quite sure but the joke was on himself. But however it was the coffee

smelled good and he took it and blundered out a brief "Thanks."

Eating his brown bread and butter, the like of which had never entered

his pampered lips before, and taking great swoops of the hot strong

coffee he followed this strange new kind of a man out to the car in the

moonlight, paying little heed to the careful examination that ensued,

being so accustomed to ordering all his needs supplied and finding them

forthcoming without delay.

Finally the minister straightened up: "I'm afraid you won't go many miles to-night. You've burned out your

bearings!"