Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 225, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 September 1914 — The PLACE Of HONEYMOOND [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The PLACE Of HONEYMOOND

MOONS by HAROLD MAC GRATH

Pictures I & « | CD. JJ PHODK

SYNOPSIS. Eleanora de Toscana was" singing in Paris, which, perhaps, accounted for Edward Courtlandt’s appearance there. Multimillionaire, he wandered about where fancy dictated. He might be in Paris one day and Kamchatka the next. Following the opera he goes to a case, and is accosted by a pretty young woman. She gives him* the address of Flora Desimone, vocal rival of Toscana, and Flora gives him. the address of Eleanora. whom hfe is determined to see. Courtlandl enters Eleanora’s apartments. She orders him out and shoots at him. The next day Paris is shocked by the mysterious disappearance of the prima donna. Realizing that he may be suspected of the abduction of Eleanora Courtlandt arranges for an alibi. CHAPTER V—Continued. Nora, a® she stood la the full morning sunlight, like to gladden the eyes of all mankind. She was beautiful, and all adjectives applicable would bu't serve to confuse rather than to embellieh her physical excellence. She was as beautiful as a garden rose is, needing no defense, no ramparts of cloying phrases. The day of poets is gone, otherwise she would have been sung in cantos. She was tall, shapely, deep-bosomed, fine-skinned. Critics, In praising her charms, delved into mythology and folk-lore for comparisons, until there wasn’t a goddess left on/Olympus or on Northland’s Icy capes; and when these images became a little shop-worn, referred to certain masterpieces of the old fellows who had left nothing more to be said in oils. Nora enjoyed it all. JShe had not been happy in the selection of her stage name; but she had

chosen Eleanora da Toscana because she believed there was good luck in it. Once, long before the world knew of her, ehe had returned home from Italy unexpectedly. “Molly, here’s Nora, from Tuscany!” her delighted father had cried; who at that time had a nebulous idea that Tuscany was somewhere in Ireland because it had a Celtic ring to it. Being filled with love of Italy, its tongue, its history, its physical beauty, she naively translated “Nora from Tuscany” into Italian, and declared that when she went upon the stage ehe would be known by that name. There had been some smiling over the pseudonym; but NOra was Irish enough to cling to it. By and by the great music-loving public ceased to concern itself about her name; it was her fresh beauty and her wonderful voice they craved to see and hear. Kings and queens, emperors and empresses, princes and princesses—what is called royalty and nobility in the newspapers freely gave her homage. Quite a rise in the world for a little girl who had once lived in a shabby apartment in New York and run barefooted on the wet asphalts, summer nights! But Nora was not recalling the happy scenes of her childhood; Indeed, no; she was still threatening Paris. Once there, Bhe would not lack for reprisals. To have played on her pity! To have made a lure of her tender concern tot the unfortunate! Never would she forgive such baseness. And only a little while ago she had been as happy as the nightingale to which they compared her. Never had she wronged anyone; she had been kindness and thoughtfulnesß to all with whom she had come in contact. But from now on! . . . Her fingers tightened round the bars. She might have posed as' Dido when she learned that the noble Aeneas was dead. War, war; woe to the moths who

fluttered abrfftt her head hereafter! Ah, but had she beten happy? Her hands slid down the bars. Her expression changed. The mouth drooped, the eagle-light iu her eyes dimmed. Prom out the bright morning, somewhere, had come weariness, and with this came weakness, and finally, tears. She heard the key turn in the lock. They had never come so early before. She was astonished td see that her jailer did not close the door as usual. He put down the tray on the table. There was tea and toast and fruit. "Mademoiselle, there has been a terrible mistake.” said the man humbly. "Ah! So you have found that out?" she CTied. “ * "Yds. r You are not the person for whom this room was intended.” Which was half a truth and perfectly true, paradoxical as « may seem. “Eat your breakfast in peace. You are free, mademoiselle.” / , “Free? You will Sot hinder me if I walk through that door?” “No, mademoiselle. On the contrary, I shall be very glad, and so will my brother, who, guards you at night. 1 repeat, there has been, a frightful mistake. Monsieur Champeaux . . ” “Monsieur Champeaux?” Nora was bewildered. She had never heard this name before

‘‘He calls himself that,” was the diplomatic'answer. ' ; • ' All Nora’s suspicions took firm ground again. “Will you describe this Monsieur Champeaux to me?” asked the actress coming into life, -Cl - "He is short, dark, and old, mademoiselle.” “Rather is he not Tall, blond and young?” ironically. The jailer concealed what annoyance he felt In his way he was just as capable an actor as she was. The accuracy of her description startled him; for the affair had bCen carried out so adroitly that he had been positive that until her real captor appeared she would be totally in the dark regarding his identity. And here she had hit it off in less than a, dozen words. Oh, well; it did not matter now. She might try to make it unpleasant for his employer, but he doubted the ultimate success of jber attempts. However, the matter was at an end as far as he was concerned. "Have you thought what this means? It is abduction. It is a crime you have committed, punishable by long impris-

onment.” “I have been mademoiselle’s jailer, not her abductor. And when one is poor and in need of money!” He shrugged. “I will give you a thousand francs for the name and address of the man who instigated this outrage.” Ah, he thought; then she wasn’t so sure? “I told you the name, mademoiselle. As for his address, I dare not give It, not for ten thousand francs. Besides, I have said that there has been a mistake,” "For whom have I been mistaken ?.” “Who but Monsieur Cbampeaux’s wife, mademoiselle, who is not In her right mind ?” with inimitable sadness. “Very well,” said Nora. “You say that I am free. That is all I want, freedom.” "In twenty minutes the electric tram leaves for Paris. You will recall, mademoiselle,” humbly, “that we have taken nothing belonging to you. You have your purse and hat and cloak. The- struggle was most unfortunate. But, think, mademoiselle, think; _we thought you to be insane!” “Permit me to doubt that! And you are not afraid to let me go?” “Not in the least, mademoiselle. A mistake has been made, and in telling you to go at once, we do our best to rectify this mistake. It is only five minutes to the tram. A carriage is at the door. Will mademoiselle be pleased to remember that we have treated her with the utmost courtesy?” “I shall remember everything,” ominously. “Very good, mademoiselle. You will be In Paris before nine.” With this he bowed and backed out of the room as though Nora had suddenly made a distinct asceneion in the scale of importance. “Wait!” she called. His face appeared in the doorway again. “Do you know who I am ?” “‘Since this morning, mademoiselle.” “That is all.” Free! Her veins tingled with strange exultation. He had lost his courage and had become afraid of the consequences. Free! Monsieur Champeaux indeed! Cowardice was a new development in his character. He had been afraid to come. She drank the tea, but did not touch the toast or fruit There would be time enough for breakfast when she arrived in Paris. Her hands trembled violently as she pinned on her hat, and she was not greatly concerned as to the angle. She snatched up her purse and cloak, and sped out into the street. A phaeton awaited her. “The tram,” she said. “Yes, mademoiselle.” “And go quickly.” She would not feel safe until she in the tram. A‘ face appeared at one of the windows. As the vehicle turned the corner, the face vanished; and perhaps that particular visage disappeared forever. A gray wig came off, the little gray side whiskers, the bushy gray eyebrows, revealing a clever face, not more than thirty, cunning, but humorously cunning and anything but scoundrelly. The ipalnted scar aslant the nose was also obliterated. With haste the man thrust the evidences of disguise into a traveling bag, ran here and there through the rooms, all bare and unfurnished save the one with the bars and the kitchen, which contained two cots and.some cooking utensils. Nothing of importance had been left behind. He locked the door and ran all the way to tbe Place d’Armes, catching the tram to Paris by a fraction of a minute. AH very well done. She would be In Paris before the police made any definite move. The one thing that disturbed him was tbe thought of the blockhead of a chauffeur, who had got drunk before his return from Versailles. If he talked; well, he could say nothing beyond the fact that he had deposited the singer at the house as directed. He knew positively nothing. The man laughed softly. A thousand francs apiece for him and Antoine, and no possible chance of being discovered. Let the police find the house* in Versailles; let them trace whatever paths they found; the agent would tell them, and honestly, that an aged man had rented the house fqr a month and had paid him in advance. What more could the agent say? Only one hit of puzzlement; why hadn't the blond stranger appeared? Who was he. in truth, and what had been his game? All this waiting and wondering, and then a curt telegram of the night before, saying, “Release her.” So much the better. What his employer’s motives were did not interest him half so much as the fact that he had a thousand francs in his pocket, and that aU element of danger had been done away with. True, the singei herself would move

heaven and earth to find out who had been back of the abduction. Let her make her accusations. * He .was out of it. "Mademoiselle,” said the great policeman soberly, “this is a grave accusation to make.” "I make it, nevertheless,” replied Nora. She sat stiffly In her chair, her face colorless, dark circles under her eyes. She never looked toward Courtlandt “But Monsieur Courtlandt has offered an alibi such as we cannot ignore. More than that, his integrity is vouched for by the gentleman at his side, whom doubtless mademoiselle recognizes.” Nora eyed the great man doubtfully. “What is the gentleman to you?” she was interrogated. “Absolutely nothing,” contemptuously. 3 The minister inspected his rings. “He has annoyed me at various times,” continued Nora; “thht is all. And his actions on Friday night warrant every suspicion I have entertained against him/’ The chief of police turned toward the bandaged chauffeur. “You recognize the gentleman?” “No, monsieur, I never saw him before. It was an old man who engaged me.” “Go on.” “He said that mademoiselle’s old teacher was very ill and asked fpr assistance. I left mademoiselle at the house and drove away. I was hired from the garage. That is the truth, monsieur.”

Nora smiled disbelievingly. Doubtless he had been paid well for that lie. “And you?” asked the chief of Nora’s chauffeur. "He is certainly the gentleman, monsieur, who attempted to bribe me.” "That is true,” said Courtlandt with utmost calmness. “Mademoiselle, if Monsieur Courtlandt wished, he could accuse you of attempting to shoot him.” "It was an accident. His sudden appearance in my apartment frightened me. Besides, I believe a woman who lives comparatively alone has a legal and moral right to protect herself from such unwarrantable intrusions. I wish him no physical injury, but I am determined to be annoyed by him no longer.” The minister’s eyes sought Courtlandt’s face obliquely. Strange young man, he thought. From the expression of his face he might have been a spectator rather than the person most vitally concerned in this little scene. And what a pair they made! “Monsieur Courtlandt, you will give me your word of honor not to annoy mademoiselle again?” “I promise never to annoy her again.” . For the briefest moment the blazing blue eyes clashed with the calm brown ones. The latter were first to deviate from the line. It was not agreeable to look into a pair of eyes burning with the hate of one’s self. Perhaps this conflagration was intensified by the placidity of his gaze. If only there had been some signi of anger, of contempt, anything but this incredible tranquillity against which she ldnged to cry out! She was too wrathful to notice the quickening throb of the veins on his temples. “Mademoiselle, I find nay case against Monsieur Courtlandt, unless you wish to appear against him for his forcible entrance to your apartment.” Nora shook her head. The chief of police stroked his mustache to hide the fleeting smile. A* peculiar case, the like of which had never before come under ,his scrutiny! “Circumstantial evidence, we know, points to him; but we have also an alibi whiqh is incontestable. We must look elsewhere for your abductors. Think; have you not some enemy? Is there no one who might wish you worry and inconveniedce ? Are your associates all loyal to you? Is there any jealousy ?” (TO BE CONTINUED.)