Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 193, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 August 1912 — Page 2

The PHANTOM OF THE OPEPA

ROSE SEELYE-MILLER

-AutfiOT' o/° THE • MYSTERY •OP • THE • YtLLOW ROOMand TrtE-PEREUME Of THE-LADY- IN-bLACIV Illujbv Af-GHe fr. t:n exCopyright /g// £>y 77? e £o£>£xs Merr/// Company

14 SYNOPSIS. Consternation Is caused on the last Wight that the opera Is managed by Debienne and Pollgny because of the appearance of a ghost,, said to have been In evidence on several previous occasions. Christine Daae, a member of the opera company, Is called upon to fill a very Important part and scores a great success. Count de Chagny and his brother Raoul are among those who applaud the singer. Raoul tries to see Christine In the dressing room, but Is unable to do so and later discovers that some one Is making love to her. She emerges alone, and upon entering the room he finds it empty. While the farewell ceremony for the retiring managers Is going on, the Opera Ghost appears and Informs the new managers that Box No. 5 Is reserved for him. Box No. 5 is sold with disastrous results. The managers receive a letter from the Opera Ghost calling attention to the error. Christine Daae writes Raoul that ■he has gone to visit the grave of her father. ~ He goes also, and in the night follows her to the church. Wonderful violin music Is heard. Raoul visits a graveyard. Raoul is found next morning almost frozen. Moncharmin and Richard Investigate Box No. 5 and decide to see the performance of "Faust” from front Beats of that box. Carlotta, who sings the leading part In ".Faust," is warned to give the part to ’•Christine. Carlotta, refusing, loses her voice In the middle of a song and the main chandelier crashes down, killing a woman and wounding many. Raoul searches for Christine, who has disappeared. He sees her at last, but does not speak, and later ■ note Is received frdm her making an appointment for a masked ball. Raoul meets Christine at the ball. He sees a person in the disguise of Red Death. He hears her conversing with some one whom she calls Erik. Raoul visits Christine and tells her he knows the name of the unseen man whom she calls the Angel of Music. Christine and Raoul become secretly engaged prior to a polar expedition that Raoul is to make. Christine relates a strange adventure with the unseen Erik and promises to run away with Raoul. Raoul-announces his intention of marrying Christine, which dia-, pleases Philippe. In the midst of a performance the stage is enveloped in darkness and Christine disappears. .CHAPTER XIII. (Continued.) They were giving, Faust, as it happened, before a splendid house. The Faubourg was magnificently represented; and the paragraph in that morning’s Epoque had already proits effect, for all eyes were turned to the box in which Count Philippe sat alone, apparently in a very indifferent -and oareiess frame of mind. The feminine element in the brilliant audience seemed curiously puzzled; and the viscount’s absence gave rise to any amount of whispering behind the fans. Christine Daae met with a rather cold reception. That special audience could not forgive her for aiming so high. The singer noticed this unfavorable attitude of a portion of the house and was confused by It. The regular frequenters of the opera, who pretended to know the truth about the viscount's lo.ye-story, exchanged significant smiles at certain passages in Margarita’s part; and they made a show of turning and looking at Phlllppe.de Chagny’s box when Christine sang v t wish I could but know who was he That addressed me. It he was noble, or, at least, what his f name is. \ The count sat with his chin on his hand and seemed to pay no attention to these manifestations. He kept his eyes fixed on the stage; but his thoughts appeared to be far away. Christine lost her self-assurance more and more. She trembled/- She felt on the verge of a breakdown. . . . Carolus Fonta wondered If she was 111, If she could keep the stage until the end of the Garden Act. In the front of the house, people remembered the catastrophe that had befallen Carlotta at the end of that act and the historic “co-ack” which had .momentarily interrupted her career In Paris Just then, Carlotta made her entrance In a box facing the stage, a sensational entrance. Poor Christine raised her eyes upon this fresh subject of excitement. She recognized her rival. She thought she saw a sneer on her lips. That saved her. - She forgot everything, in order to triumph once more. From that moment the prlma donna sang with alf her heart and soul. She tried to surpass all that she had done till then; and she succeeded. In the last act when she began the Invocation to the angels, she made all the members of the audience feel as though they too had wings. In the center of the amphitheater a man stood up and remained standing, facing the singer. It was Raoul. Holy angel, in heaven blessed . . . And Christine, her arms outstretched, her throat filled with music, the glory of her hair falling over her bare shoulders, uttered the divine cry: lily spirit longs with thee to rest!" ' It waß at that moment that the stage was suddenly plunged In darkness. It happened so quickly that the spectators hardly had time to utter a sound of stupefaction, for the gas at once lit up the stage again. But Christine Daae wan no longer there! What had become of her? What was that miracle? All, exchanged glances without understanding, and the excitement at once reached ita height. Nor was the tension any leas

great on the stage itself. Men rushed from the wings to the spot where Christine had been singing that very insfant. The performance was inter 1 rupted amid the greatest disorder. Where had Christine gone? What witchcraft had snatched her away before the eyes of thousands of en thusiastic onlookers and from the arms of Carolus Fonta himself? It was as though the angels had really carried her up “to rest." *. Raoul, still standing up In the am phitheater, had uttered a cry. Count Philippe had sprung to his feet In his box. People looked at the stage, at the count, at Raoul, and wondered It this curious event was connected In any way with the paragraph In that morning’s paper. But Raoul hurried ly left his seat, the count disappeared from his box and, while the curtatn was lowered, the subscribers rushed to the door that led behind the scenes. The rest of the audience waited amid an indescribable hubbub. Every one spoke at once. Every one trled to suggest an explanation of the extraordinary Incident. At last, the curtain rose slowly and £arolus Fonta stepped to the conductor’s desk and, in a sad and serious voice, said: "Ladies and gentlemen, an unprecedented event has taken place and thrown us Into a state of the greatest alarm. Our sister-artist, Christine Daae, has disappeared before our eyes and nobody can tell us how!”

CHAPTER XIV. The Singular Attitude of a Safety-Pin. Behind the curtain there was an indescribable crowd. Artists, sceneshifters, dancers, supers, choristers, subscribers were all asking questions, shouting and hustling one another. “What became of her?” “She’s run away/’ “With the Vicomte de Chagny, of course!” ■ ? “No. with the count!” "Ah, here’s Carlotta! Carlotta did the trick!” . “No, it was the ghost!” And a few laughed, especially as a careful examination of the trap-doors and boards had put the idea of an accident out of the question. Amid this noisy throng, three men stood talking In a low voice and with despairing gestures. They were Ga-

briel, the chorus-master; Mercler, the acting-manager; and Remy, the secretary. They retired to a corner of the lobby by which the stage communicates with the wide passage leading to the foyer of the ballet. Here they stood and argued behind some enormous “properties.” “I knocked at the door,” said Remy. “They did not answer. Pertiaps they are not In the office. In any case, 4t’s Impossible to find out. for they took the keys with them.” “They” were obviously the managers, who had given orders, during the last entr’acte, that they were not

“My Spiri[?] nee to Rest!”

to be disturbed on any pretext whatever. They were not In to anybody. "All the same," exclaimed Gabriel, “a singer Isn’t run away with, from the middle of the stage, every day!" "Did you shout that to them?" asked Mercler, Impatiently. “I’ll go back again," said Remy, and disappeared at a run. —— Thereupon the stage-manager arrived . “Well, M. Mercler, are you coming? What are you two doing here? You’re wanted, Mr. Acting-Manager." “I refuse to know or to do anything before the commissary arrives," declared Mercler. “1 have sent for Mlfroid. We shall see when he comes!" • * * "And I tell you that you ought to go down to the organ at once." ZZ “Not before the commissary comes." self already." * “Ah! And what did you see?" “Well, I saw nobody! Do you hear —nobody!" “What do you want me to go down there for?" "you’re right!’’ said the stage-man-ager, frantically pushing his bands through his rebellious hair. “You’re right! But there might be some one at the organ who could tell us how the stage came to be suddenly darkened. Now Mauclalr Is nowhere to be found. Do you lnderstand that?” Mauclalr was the gas-man, who dispensed day and night at will on the stage of the opera. . "Mauclalr Is not to be found!" repeated Mercler, taken aback. “Well, what about his assistants?” “There’s no Mauclalr and no assistants! No one at the lights, I tell you! You can imagine,” roared the stage-manager, “that that little girl must have been- carried off by somebody else; she didn’t run away by herself! It was a calculated stroke and we have to find out about it. . . And what are the managers doing all this time? ... I gave orders that no one was to go down to the lights and 1 posted a fireman In front of the gas-man’s box beside the organ. Wasn’t that right?” “Yes, yes, quite right, quite right. And now let’s wait for the commissary.” The stage-manager walked away, shrugging his shoulders, fuming, muttering Insults at those milksops who remained quietly squatting in a corner while the whole theater was topsyturvy. Gabriel and Mercler were not so quiet as all that. Only they had received an order that paralyzed them. The managers were not to be disturbed on any- account. Remy had violated that order and met with no success. At that moment he returned from his new expedition, wearing a curiously startled air. “Well, have you seen them?” asked Mercier. —“Moncharmin opened the door at last. His eyes were starting out of his head. .1 thought he meant to strike me. I could not get a word in; and what do you think he shouted at me? ’Have you a safety-pin?’ ‘No!’ ’Well, then, clear out!’ I tried to tell him that an unheard-of thing had happened on the stage, but he roared, ’A safety-pin! Give me a safety-pin at once!’ A boy heard him—he was bellowing like a bull —ran up with a

safety-pin and gave it to him, whereupon Moncharmin slammed the door In my face, and there you are!” “And couldn’t you have said. ’Christine Daae?’ ” “I should like to have seen you In my place. He was foaming at the mouth. He thought of nothing but hla safety-pin. I believe, If they hadn't brought him one on the spot, he would have fallen do wn in a fit! . . . Oh, all this isn’t natural; and our managers are going mad! . . . Besides, It can’t go on like this! I’m not used to being treated In that fashion!” ~ Suddenly Gabriel whispered:

"It’s another trick of O. Q/s." fyemy gave a grin, Mercler a sigh and seemed about to speak . . but, meeting Gabriel’s eye, said nothing. However, Mercler felt his responsibility Increased as the minutes passed without the managers’ appearing; and, at last, he could stand It no longer. '•—- "Look here, I’ll go and hunt them out myself!” -- - Gabriel, turning • very gloomy and serious, stopped him. "Be careful what you’re doing, Mercler! If they're staying In their office, It’s probably they have to! O. G. has more than one trick In his bag!” But Mercier shook his head. “That’s their lookout! I’m going!. If people had listened to me, the police would have known everything long ago!” And be went. “What’s everything?” asked Remy. “What was there to tell the police? Why don’t you answer, Gabriel? . . Ah, so you know something! Well, you would do better to tell me, too. It you don’t want me to shout out that you are all going mad! . . . Yes, that’s what you are: mad!" Gabriel put on a stupid look and pretended not to understand 'the private secretary’s unseemly outburst. “What ‘something* am I supposed to know?” he said. "I don't know what you mean.” _ Remy began to lose his temper. “This evening, Richard and Moncharmin were behaving like lunatics, here, between the acts.” “I never noticed It,” growled Gabriel, very much annoyed. “Then you’re the only one! . . . Do you think that I didn’t see them? . . . And that M. Parablse, the manager of the Credit Central, noticed nothing? . . .. And that M. de La Borderle, the ambassador, has no eyes to see with? . . . Why, all the subscribers were pointing at our managers!’’ “But what Were our managers doing?” asked Gabriel, putting on his most Innocent air. “What were they doing? You know better than any one what they were doing! —.—You were there! And you were watching them, you and Mercier! . . . And you were the only two who didn’t laugh. . . ." “I don’t understand!” Gabriel raised his arms and dropped them to his sides again, which gesture was meant to convey that the question did not Interest him in the least. Remy continued; “What is the sense of this new mania of theirs? Why won’t they have any one come near them now?” “What? Won’t they have any one come near them?” “And they won’t let any one touch them! ” "Really? Have you noticed that they won’t let any one touch them? That Is certainly odd!” “Oh, so you admit it.! And high time, too! And then, they walk backward!” “Backward! You have _ seen our managers walk backward? Why, I thought that only crabs walked backward!” “Don’t laugh, Gabriel; don’t laugh!’’ “I’m not laughing,” protested Gabriel, looking as solemn as a Judge. “Perhaps you can tell me this,‘Gabriel, as you’re an Intimate friend of the management: When I went up to M. Richard, outside the foyer, during the Garden interval, with my hand out before me, why did M. Moncharmin hurriedly whisper to me. ‘Go away! Go away! Whatever you do, don’t touch M. le dlrecteur!’ Am 1 supposed to have an infectious disease?” “It’s incredible!” “And, a little later, when M. de La Borderle went up to M. Richard, didn’t you see M. Moncharmin fiing himself between them and hear him exclaim. ’M. l’ambassadeur, I entreat you not to touch M. le dlrecteur?’” “It’s terrible! . . And what was Richard doing meanwhile?” “What was he doing? Why, you saw him! He turned about, bowed in front of him, though there was nobody in front of him, and withdrew backward.” “Backward?” “And Moncharmin, behind Richard,

Under the Grand Old Flag

Woodsman, Accompanying Tenderfoot, • by No Means Actuated by Sentiment Alone. • Frank O’Malley, who hucksters wards to magazines, admitted the other day that last fall he made his first trip into the woods. Mr. O’Malley told about the pleasure he took In outfitting for the trip—that pleasure being added to by the assumption of friendly relations, with the manager of a downtown sporting goods store. “I had known him by sight for a long time," said Mr. O'Malley, “for I have a little office immediately above the .store he manages. But I had never gotten acquainted with him. He seemed an unapproachable and stand-offish sort of man. Then I made a week-end trip to Atlantic City, and forgot to turn of the tap in my stationary washstand In my little office on the floor Immediately above the sporting goods store. “So,” says Mr. O’Malley, “when*! came back from Atlantic City, that’s bow I got acquainted with the manager.” In the Maine woods Hr. O'Malley acquired a guide named Fred. The guide watched with some apprehension as Mr. (TMalley took lengths pf gun barrel end jointed them together, and prepared for his tour through the woods in search of big game. When they were finally ready to penetrate the forest depths, the guide came .out with

also turned about; that to, ha da* scribed a semi-circle behind Richard and also walked backward! . . . And they went like that to the staircase leading to the managers’ office: backward, backward, backward! Well, If they are not mad, will you explain what It means?” "Perhaps they were practicing a figure in the ballet,” suggested Gabriel, without much conviction in hla voice. The secretary was furious at this wretched Joke, made at so dramatic a moment. He knit his brows and contracted his lips. Then he put his mouth to Gabriel’s ear: "Don’t be so sly, Gabriel. There are things going on for which you and Mercier are partly responsible.” . ”What do you mean?" asked Gabriel. “Christine Daae to not the only one who suddenly disappeared tonight/* “Oh, nonsense!” ‘There's ho nonsense about It. Perhaps you can tell me why, when Mother Glry came down to the foyer just now, Mercler took her by the hand and hurried her away with him?" “Really?" said Gabriel, “1 never saw It” "You did see it Gabriel, for you went with Mercier and Mother Glry to Mercier’s office. Since then, you and Mercler have been seen, but no one has seen Mother Glry." “Do you think we’ve eaten her?" “No, but you’ve locked her up In the office; and any one passing the office can hear her yelling, ‘Oh, the scoundrels! Oh, the scoundrels!’ " At this point of this singular conversation, Mercler arrived, all out of breath. “There!” he said, In a gloomy voice. “It's worse than ever! ... 1 shouted, ‘lt’s a serious matter! 'Open the door! It’s I, Mercler/ 1 heard footsteps. The door opened and Moncharmin appeared. He was very pale. He said, ‘What do you want?’ I answered, ’Some one has run away with Christine Daae/ What do you think he said? ‘And a good job, too!’ And he shut the door, after putting this in my hand.” Mercier opened hffi hand; Remy and Gabriel looked. “The safety-pin!" cried Remy. “Strange! Strange!” muttered Gabriel, who could not help shivering. Suddenly a voice made them ail three turn round. “I beg pardon, gentlemen. Could, you tell me where Christine Daae Is?” In spite of the seriousness of th« circumstances, the ' absurdity of the question would have made them roai with laughter, If they had not caughl sight of a face so sorrow-stricken that they were at once seized with pity. 1’ was the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny.

CHAPTER XV. Chrlstlnel Chrlstinel Raoul’s first thought, after Christina Daae’s fantastic disappearance, wai to accuse Erik. He no longer doubt ed the almost supernatural powers ol the Angel of Music, In this domain ol the opera in which he bad set up bit empire. And Raoul rushed on th« stage, in a mad fft'of love and despair. “Christine! .Christine!’’ he moaned, calling to her as he felt that she must be calling to him from the depths ol that dark pit to which the monster had carried her. “Christine! Christine!” And be seemed to bear the girl’s screams through the frail boards that separated him from her. He bent forward, he listened, ... he wandered over the stage like a madman. Ah, to descend, to descend Into that pit of darkness every entrance to which was closed to him, . . . for the stairs that led below the stage were forbidden to one and all that night! “Christine! Christine! . , .” People pushed him aside, laughing. They made fun of him. They thought the poor lover’s brain was gone! By what mad road, through what passages of mystery and darkness known to him alone had Erik dragged that pure-souled child to the awful haunt, with the Louls-Philippe room, opening out on the lake? “Christine! Christine! . . Why don*t you answer? . . . Are you alive? ...” (TO BE CONTINUED.)

an American flag lashed to the barrel of his rifle. “Wha* are you carrying that flag for?" asked Mr. O’Malley. “Weii," said the guide, “you wouldn’t fire on the grand old stars and stripes, would you?”—Herbert Corey*in the Cincinnati Times-Star.

Great Plague of London.

Medical authorities agree that the epidemic which prevailed In London In 1665 was what we now call bubonic plague. It is well known that this “Black Death” was prevalent In various -parts of the world In ancient times. The outbreaks were peculiarly violent then by reason of the conditions of poverty and the almost total absence of sanitation. It was the ancient medical writers who gave it the name of the plague. The mortality In London in 1666 was appalling. Thousands were swept away by the dread malady, and there .was a great .exodus from the strickih. city. Some of the medical authorities thought it had been brought into London In bales of merchandise coming from Holland, which originally came from the Levant; others contended that It was brought In by Dutch prisoners of war. The longest life to but an elementary school.—Ledy Warwick. ,

WILDI® D.NESBIT t iii a j|ji iii ■ "irsAor "Tis not the heat that makes us hot. That makes us moan and murmur. That makes each collar that we’ve got Each instant grow less firmer; Blame not the heat for rolling you And blighting your placidity, The cause of language densely blue Is nothing but humidity. ’Tis not the heat that makes you growl And mop your perspiration And hunt the shade and sit and scowl And talk about cremation; ’Tis not the heat that makes you think Of winter with avidity And hunt for sundry things to drink— Be calm; 'tis but humidity. ■ .’Tis not the heat—in sober fact, You do not suffer from it; Be cool in word and thought and act And you will overcome It, For, though think that you are hot You’ll cool oft with rapidity And find each place a pleasant spot When you know, it’s humidity. Cease then this language whiclg. would make / Commotion ’midst the ladies! No more make mention of the lake That boils and bolls in hades. ’Tis not the heat, and you should have A sense of near-frigidity— This glad thought let your chafing salve: ’Tis naught but mild humidity.

More Attractive.

"This summer,” says the first woman, ‘‘we are going to a genuine backwoodsy place away out in the forest, where we can live in & log cabin dnd not have to worry about dressing and dinners and all those things, * and wfcere the children may romp and play among the trees, and where Mr. Gooph and I may fish, or read, or lounge about and take naps And fancy! It will cost us absolutely nothing, ps it is in a deserted section of the country, and we get the use of the log cabin simply for occupying it.” “We,” sniffs Mrs. Hoops ter, “are going to do the same thing. But we have found a place of the same sort where wp will have to pay Just as much rent every week as though we were stopping at a mountain or seaside hotel. I think we will enjoy It greatly.”

Behind the Footlights.

“Let me sip the honey from your Ups,” murmured the matinee hero to the matinee heroine, while the spotlight did its duty and the orchestra played soulfully. The sentimental damsel in the front row gazed with tearful eyes while he sipped the aforesaid honey, but gasped for breath when his stage whisper floated out to them: “For heaven’s sake, woman, what kind of-grease paint are you using today? Mutton tallow?”

Said the Observant Foreigner.

“I have noticed,” said the Observ* ant Foreigner, who was not writing a book about America, “that, according to your newspapers, your best Citizens are always to be found in large numbers at just three places.” “Where?” we asked, being mildly curious. ' “At political rallies, prize fights and lynching bees.” *

Says Mr. Sourdropp.

“Actors are funny people,” observed Mr. Sourdropp. “They repeat the lines of the play to show the audience what a smart man the author was, ana- then they come out and make curtain speeches to show the difference. M ' .

Unreasonable Man.

"John is so unreasonable,” said Mrs. Muehwedd. “Why, would you bellere it? He talked just dreadfully because I wanted to give a little party in celebration of the fifth anniversary of my first divorce."

A Catastrophe.

Tigg— Bigg’s automobile was hopelessly Wrecked this morning. Migg—That so? Hit a locomotive? Tigg—No. Ban into a football team. •