Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 34, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 February 1915 — Page 2

CHAPTER VIII —Continued. “Tomorrow at dawn,” said the practical mother ot Charles. "'What you would sain In time you would lose In strength. Ton mast conserve your energies. Now we will have supper, and afterward we will discuss our plans.” 1 had stopped to purchase a map before returning, and after the meal we opened It and pored over It. My first course, on the morrow, we estimated, would pass through Troyes and end at Dijon, where I should replenish my gasoline tank and stay over night Sunday would see me through Lyon and along the Rhone' to Avignon. Thence, on the Monday, I should strike east over the Basses Alpea and the Alpes Marl times to Monaco; and on the Tuesday there would be the perilous sea flight of two hundred odd miles to Corsica, and along the coast for fifty miles to Soouto. At best I could reach Scouto by Tuesday eve* Ing; and. this would leave me but a single day of four and twenty hours in which to persuade Zeuxis to return with me. That night I went out to the shed in which the monoplane rested and looked at her. For one moment as I gased, a terrible fear overcame me. Next moment something of the brave spirit of the machine entered into my heart and Inspired me with Its own power. There she floated, as ft almost seemed, so strong and yet so graceful, with her enormous spread of wings outstretched tionnsth the roof of the hangar. I took my seat and at once the memory of her control came back to me. I placed my hands upon the levers, and to each slightest touch the mechanism responded. I tested the motor; it worked admirably. After I was satisfied I descended and bade the ancient servant fill the tank with gasoline. There was nothing to do now until the morning. A letter had come for me from Canada, having been forwarded from London. I glanced at the superscription without enthusiasm and tore open the envelope. It was from Mary Jenner, and dated from Winnipeg three weeks before. The weather had been stifling, she wrote, but. thank heaven, the school term was ended. A party of the teachers was going to Europe, including herself and Mr. Spratt, whom she characterised as an -odious little persecutor.” Mary intimated that he had transferred his volatile affections from myself to her, and that she detested him. She hoped that I had met my kinsmen and had gone to visit them at the chateau, and hoped to see me soon—perhaps sooner than I expected, were the words she used! But Mary Jenner, with whom I had cooked so many midnight sappers in our tiny apartment, and sworn undying friendship, wus. the least of my thoughts just now.

CHAPTER IX. The Flight to Corsica. On which I ride the monoplane asr&in, with dlvera adventures by the way.) To fly from Paris to an Island off the coast of Corsica, there search for an unwilling witness, and bring him home with me within ten days, was not an adventure that could be regarded lightly. It Is small wonder, then, that ray sleep on that eventful Friday night was a troubled one. In the brief intervals of unconsciousness v that I enjoyed I seemed to be perpetually riding through the air. like a witch on a broomstick, while behind me thundered legions of the damned, shrieking in the zest of the chase. And one demon, with the head and leering features of Leopold Magniff. headed me off, forced me out of my course, while below I saw Charles writhing in bonds, crying to me appealingly—and always helplessly. When I awoke for the last time toward dawn it was to find Charles’ mother standing beside me in her dressing robe. “It is time to prepare for your journey, dear,” she whispered. I dressed hastily and joined her and the old Comte below. None of us had much appetite for breakfast. It was an eerie sensation, sitting there in the first rays of the rising sun, in the perfect stillness of a Normandy morning, knowing that the lives of Charles and oar grandfather and the future of our historic house hung upon so slender and desperate a chance as that which 1 was to undertake. After breakfast we went out to the hanger. The faithful old servant, assisted by the valet, had wheeled the great monoplane out upon the dewy lawn. Charles’ mother had prepared a email package containing some food In case of emergency, and I had a handbag with' a few of the essentials of a journey. These were stowed away HiHm» the seat The tank was already filled with gasoline and the motor, when tested, responded admirably. AH was in readiness. My grandfather and Charles’ mother embraced me quietly; the undertaking was too serious a one for the display of any surface emotion. I kissed th—* And entering the in&Citilo6 took

ANNE IVES MASCOT

H.M. EGBERT

* ILLUSTRATION* BY O.IRWIN MYERS

my seat. I looked back. The old chateau, gray and ghostly In the early morning, seemed replete with history, and every single window was. In my Imagination, filled with the form# of earlier owners; greet lords and fair ladles who had played each his or her part In foe history of Cllchy and left the scene. Something of the sense of this continuity made my surroundings singularly unreal. The Comte and Charles* mother seemed now hardly more than phantoms upon a ghostly stage In a mysterious setting. But such fancies were morbid. I turned my face resolutely away and started the motor. I felt the wheelß revolve and take the soft sod under me; there was a moment of Bwift gliding, and the ground shot from beneath me. I pressed the lever that controlled the rudder and flew upward. Now I was cool and calm as though this were foe flight of an experienced aeronaut. I waa, in thought, again flying with Charles In thd English aviation meeting. Right and left the monoplane turned at my insistence, skimming the soft sire lightly as a swallow. I rose above the topa of the old elms and circled the grounds. Once, twice I made this course, and then, rising to two hundred feet, shot straight as a bee eastward toward Parisi Towns and villages unrolled themselves beneath me as I sped over the fair panorama of northern France. I kept an altitude of about four hundred • feet; in this manner I was enabled to travel by the .bright ribbons of the railway line, clearly perceptible below me, and, at the same time, to escape any too intimate contact with the denisens of the district; for above all things I wished to avoid awakening curiosity as to my Identity and destination. Several times a railroad train, unrolling like a caterpillar out of the ground, swept past me; twice, too, I outraced trains Paris bound. The machine seemed like a sentient thing. I no longer wondered that we had beaten all our competitors in London, for we seemed so to harmonize that we were no longer twain; I was an aerial centaur, and this mechanism of steel and aluminum was part of me. After an hour and a half a dark blur beginning to spread over the horizon told me that I was approaching Paris. I had resolved not to fly over the capital lest some too adventurous newspaper Bhould send out Its aeroplane correspondent In search of me. One thing 1 longed for greatly—a newspaper, that I might lbarn how Charles fared, what was the latest news of the trial, and whether the flight that I was to make had yet become public knowledge. But I overcame my longing and, wheeling in a southeasterly direction, mounted to an altitude of a thousand feet and shot over the green tracery of the Bois, which from thatheight appeared exactly like a field of corn in tassel, set on an indistinguishable brown background. At this height, though It was July, the air was crisp and keen, the wind sang past my ears, every sense tingled with exuberance. I must save Charles! Now it was impossible no longer; no longer dangerous even. I flashed over the poplar-lined roads of the environs, and, gradually descending to a height of four hundred feet again, made my way along the highway in the direction of Troyes, where I descended at noon in a large field to lunch and to inspect my motor.

Everything was satisfactory. I stepped out, a little cramped, and, lying upon a bank of softest turf, snatched a few morsels of bread and cheese, washing them down with a drqft of clearest spring water from a rill near by. The eight of the great bird had already aroused the interest of the neighborhood, and I knew that my sojourn must be a brief one. In fact, hardly had I rinsed my bands after my meal when the advance guard of the rustic population came running in the shape of a farmer’s boy, who, seeing me, threw up his hands in dumfounded amazement, stuttering: “It’s a woman! Holy Virgin, a woman!” Seeing that a little group was moving over the brow of the hill, and not wishing to communicate anything of my purpose or identity, I entered the machine again and started the motor. As the wheels revolved they shouted and ran forward threateningly, their first impulse, after fear, being hate — a phenomenon common everywhere among the unintelligent. For a moment I feared that the long grass would hold my flight; then, just as the first came panting up, the monoplane rose, almost sweeping him from his feet with a whir of its mighty wings. I heard cries of anger beneath me. I looked down and waved my hand. What were these boors to me when Charles’ honor and liberty were at stake! Charles! The wind sang his name through the steel stays, the motor hummed it I was high in air once more, sweeping along the great, white, dusty road toward Dijon. The sun sank lower, the air grew keener yet; clouds rolling up gave promise of a storm: T planned to pass -OMB tew* reat at -waysldh

»**» WG CHAPMAN)

THE EVENINO REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND.

village after dusk, leaving my aeroplane in charge of soma friendly farmer sufficiently removed from the center of news to prevent, foe disclosure of my identity. All these plans 1 carried out well. Night saw me some leagues in advance of Dijon, and resting In a field recently mown, surrounded by gaping but not malignant rustics. A liberal sum sealed the mountains of their perpetual questioning, and by the promise of further reward in the morning 1 induced my host to drive into the town and bring me back a fresh supply of gasoline, without arousing curiosity. Then I sapped, and. turning into a bed of softest down, slept like a log till daybreak. Sunday was a repetition of the (toy before. Long before noon I had crossed Lyon and was following the broad valley of the Rhone. Avignon was to be my destination; but here my plans miscarried. For, as I approached the city at a height of thfpe hundred feet, well before dusk, a few misses of my motor warned me that It was clogging. Just as it had done In England, and I volplaned swiftly to the ground to avoid misfortune, landing In the exact center of a populous residential square, where In no time I was surrounded by a dense crowd of Provencals, cheering and'mobbing me and acclaiming me by name. They climbed Into the monoplane, they thrust out their hands toward me, and one held up before my eyes the latest copy of the Petit Journal. There, covering a whole page, I saw an atrociously drawn presentation of myself In the monoplane, and underneath. Id large letters of black, the words; "The Woman Spy, Flying Over Dijon.” As 1 was growing desperate a couple of gendarmes forced their way through the crowd to me. "Mademoiselle,” said one, respectfully, “you may not proceed further. We have orders from the Minister of the Interior to detain you.” For a moment I was stunned with horror. Then an Idea came to me. 1 made no answer, but set to work with all speed in the adjueting of my motor. Whatever might happen, It was essential that the monoplane Bhould be in order, ready for action. "The instructions are," the gendarme continued, “that mademoiselle shall remain at liberty In Avignon pending further orders. The aeroplane—” “Yes, monsieur?” I answered carelessly, while my heart throbbed horribly. It seemed too terrible to be true. But at any cost I must appear to acquiesce. “Understand, mademoiselle, you are not under arrest,” he continued. “It is merely that the Minister of the Interior has issued an order forbidding ladies to fly, owing to the dangers.” “You spoke of the monoplane," I answered smiling. “What is to be done with It. For myself,” I added, “I am really tired of flying. I shall not continue my journey to Marseilles.” “To Marseilles?” cried the gendarme, scratching his head. “Why mademoiselle, the Petit Journal says—” he hesitated. “That you are bn your way to join your lover in Italy, there to be married in the clouds," put in the other. I breathed more freely. Evidently the real purpose of my journey was not yet known. “The aeroplane—” I persisted. “Peste! What are we to do with the aeroplane?" said his companion. “There were no instructions." “Let me make a suggestion," I answered suavely. "Suppose I take it

“Mademoiselle, You May Not Proceed Further."

to pieces here and have it conveyed to the police station.” “Excellent,” answered the second gendarme heartily. “But,” he added, as I climbed into the seat, “You will not fly away, mademoiselle?" I laughed. “What an idea!" I exclaimed. "But first I must fill up the t»nir With gasoline; otherwise it would be liable to explode. The conflict between centripetal and centrifugal force, caused by the expansion of gases, would annihilate the m,echanism and cause serious tangental paribo las,” I continued gravely. The gendarme scratched his head. “Undoubtedly, mademoiselle,” he answered. “There is a motor-car repair shop across the square. Certainly gasoline can be procured there.” A in the crowd volunteered to obtain it and disappeared, shortly returning with a companion, both bearing two huge tanks, with which my oufn was-speedily repleted. I took my seat in the machine. i “Now. gentlemen/* I said, “pray mnV« room while I unscrew the sustaining bar of the wings.” They cleared a space of several yards around me, these good Avignonese. I touched the lever and the motor hammed and throbbed. I pressed the flight indicator. The wheels turned, spun, lifted — A gasp of astonishment broke from the crowd as I soared over tjjenvjind they ducked and ran in all directions

to escape Injury. My coarse was wild ; I missed the steeple of an old church by several inches, scraped against the pediment of an ancient Roman edifice, and sped up to the sky. I looked back as I cleared the housetops. The two gendarmes were waving their hands at me Imploringly. I hated to leave them, but the memory of my mission came to me to spur me on. and I flew like the wind. Boon Avignon was hut a blot in the distance. That night I slept under a tree In the wild mountain region of the Bassee-Alpes. .At dawn I continued my course directly eastward. Now no sign of human habitation was to be seen. There was nothing but ranges of lofty mountains. The cold became Intense an(| the air currents treacherous. Time and again I was caught In gusts of icy wind, beaten, bufTeted out of my path. Over me the sky was of intensest blue; round and beneath me lay the icy summits of the Alps. My teeth chattered and my hands grew so cold that I could scarcely feel the levers. , Nothing but the intehslty of my purpose could have enabled me to face that bitter wind. At last, toward afternoon, just as I began to think that I had missed my path, when I felt that I could hold out no longer, I perceived, very far southward, a long, blue, monotonous line on the horizon. My heart leaped, a new and feverish determination entered into me. It wae the sea, the blue water of the Mediterranean, that lay before my eyes. Now the last stage was approaching. So far, I had conquered ! I wheeled southward and began to descend the long valleys of the Maritime Alps. The air grew warmer, the descent more precipitous; I glided downward on the rushing winds exultingly, and ever nearer I saw the distant sea, until the narrowing horizon shut it once more from view. But when I left the last of the snow-capped ranges behind me the eun suddenly sank and I entered a region of twilight. It had been dark for an hour upon the lowlands while I was battling in the sunlight. The night was moonless; I must alight before it grew entirely dark or run the risk of falling into the sea. Out of the mountainside I saw the white road, the great highway between France and Italy, centuries old, debouched upon its way to Nice, whence it wound through the Principality of Monaco. Clearly I must descend there, where French laws did not run, and where the Minister of the Interior, actuated, I did not doubt, by interests inimical to mine, could not arrest my journey. In the falling light I saw of a sudden the little Square topped building of the French customs house on the Monaco border, and the Monaco customs, not a dozen meters distant. I made for the latter, shut off my motor and careened earthward. As I descended, like a great soaring eaglet I saw men run from either building, shouting and waving their arms at me —their cries reached me with surprising clearness. I dropped to earth, hit the ground on the French side of the line, and rolled half into Monaco, to tumble exhausted from my aeroplane. It was easy to see that I was squarely upon the international boundary. But my apprehensions were groundless, for nothing could have exceeded the kindness with which I was treated by the officials from either customs. Their first surprise over, they placed the quarters of the French officer at my disposal, and thither I adjourned for a hasty toilet, leaving the monoplane the center of Interest. Seeing my weariness, they scarcely pressed a question upon me, and when, thinking always of the future, I pointed out the deficiency in the gasoline, the French officials promptly filled the tank with Confiscated petrol from their contraband stores. Afterward I was the guest at an informal supper, to which the men from either side of the border invited themselves. “Without doubt mademoiselle is on her way to Turin to compete in the international meeting there," suggested the French official. -> I acknowledged the false presumption with a bow. "Mademoiselle will remain here and rest tomorrow?” he continued hopefully. “It is not often that ladies honor us with their presence, and those few which we see here are, unfortunately, much prejudiced against us." “Against you, monsieur?” I asked. “Impossible!” He smiled and twirled his mustache jauntily. “Unfortunately,” he murmured, “it is too often our painful duty to detain their baggage.” “They show poor taste,” I answered. “But now, monsieur, I shall withdraw, having traveled all the way from Avignon, since morning.” He started and stared at me in unbelief. “From Avignon?” he exclaimed. “Then mademoiselle must have crossed the Alps in her machine No, no, impossible. None but Chaves has done it —and his fate was horrible!” * I saw at once the falseness of the move I had made in mentioning Avignon. If he should send a telegram to city my cause was lost. Mortified, I muttered some excuses and withdrew to toss uneasily upon my bed for hours until I slep£ heavily from exhaustion. When I awoke in the morning a presentiment of evil to come oppressed my spirits. From the window of my room I glanced out upon the surrounding country. The guardhouse was placed on a high hill, though It had appeared a level plain to me the night before, in comparison with those mountainous heights. Far under me I could see the fertile, thickly populated valleys of the coast; in the distance gleamed the magnificent building of the Monte Carto gambling hall; in front of it, beating against a curbing

shore, were the sky-blue waters of the Mediterranean. Seeing It I took courage sg» ln Let me but once get free, as I had freed myself from greater dangers, and nothing could stop me till I reached Corsica. Yet the presentiment ,of evil remained with me and sprang into new life when, after a hasty breakfast, consisting of coffee and rolls, which was brought to me by the wife of one of the men, I met the- French officer, looking glum and fluttering a telegraphic dispatch in his hand. “Mademoiselle d'Yves,” he began, after the moat formal greeting, ‘1 regret tb Bay that I have reoelved Instructions from the minister of the interior to detain —” I did not wait for him to conclude his speech, but skipped lightly across the Monaco boundary line, two meters

He Smiled and Twirled His Mustache Jauntily.

away. Tbe Monaco officials came out of their buildings and clapped their hands enthusiastically. It was evident that they had heard the news and looked for a pretty comedy, in which their part would be the rescue of a distressed maiden. “Yes, monsieur?” I continued demurely. “To detain your monoplane,” he continued, indicating the great bird, lying prostrate beside the road, as though it would never rise again. “On what charge?" I asked icily. “There is no charge,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders. "It is the order." “Hm!” I said. “Monsieur le capitaine, I begin to understand why the ladies dislike you.” "But what can I do?” he demanded, coming toward me with a deprecating action of the hands. “Why, monsieur, being In Monaco, I demand the protection of this gentleman,” I said, pointing to the other captain, who advanced instinctively,* his arm outspread as though to ward from me some threatening violence. “But you are not threatened, mademoiselle,” said the French captain. “It is merely a temporary detention of the aeroplane. A little adjustment, if you like. I do not know what motive influences the minister. IFyou had denied your name —” That touched my pride. He winced under the words that flowed spontaneously from my tongue, derogatory as they were toward the gallantry of the French nation. “And in any event,” I added, "the monoplane, being half In the territory of Monaco, does not come under your supervision.” “ The mask of politeness fell from his manner. He answered roughly: '“That part that is here stays, mademoiselle.” “And your part?” I said, turning to the Monaco officer. “It goes, mademoiselle,” he answered readily. “In that case,” I said, “you will permit me to take my seat on the part of the mechanism which is in your country?" “By all means, mademoiselle,” be answered. “You cannot divide an aeroplane,” cried the Frenchman rudely. "If you do, it shall be with an axe." "If you will permit one of your men to draw a line between the two boundary pillars—” I hazarded to the Monaco captain. He caught at the idea. He ran forward and, with his toe, drew a fairly straight line In the dust. “The machine lies more than half across the border," he cried. “And the motor wholly,” I whispered.

He was intelligent, this Monaco officer. He fairly beamed on me as I seated myself. The French captain, beside himself with anger, ran forward and placed his hands firmly around the girders that covered French territory. “Stir at your peril!” he shouted. “O, .monsieur," I said reproachfully, “this is an unpleasant ending to your hospitality. And after what you said last night!" “Pray descend, mademoiselle,” he entreated.<- “It is an order. Do not hold me responsible.” I started the motor and the wheels shot forward. Next moment the Frenchman was rolling down the steep bank of the ditch, while his confreres held their sides, helpless with laughter. Another instant and I was rising, hovering—and over French territory. I circled the guardhouse, and then, with a sudden access of speed, shot forward. 1 turned and waved my hand, narrowly escaping a somersault through the air as I did so. “Adieu, mademoiselle,” shouted the Mnn»«n officer, and then I saw the Frenchman rise painfully from the ditch and heard him give utterance to the most exuberantly free flow of language that I have ever heard upon a Frenchman’s Ups. Positively I could not stay to listen to it. So I turned on the speed-to -the full extent, shot like an arrow upirsrd. spun over the gambling hills, to the Intense astonishment

of ttm pigmies beneath me, and a moment later heard the splash at tho Mediterranean billows upon the rocky shore of Monte Carlo. Straight out to sea I flew, guiding my course by the new eastern sun, until the land was only a low line behind me. And presently even that tailed. Now nothing was visible but the broad expanse of the ocean. Here and there, riaing and falling ilka a cork upon the waters, I saw a tiny steamship, no bigger »h*n a toy boat. And even these disappeared at last, leaving me alone with the snn and the sea and the wheeling gulls. Hour after hour went by- Upon a favoring wind I sped, ever southward, while behind me the busy motor hummed arid sang. “Charles! Charles!” That was its refrain. I thought of the incredible dangers that I had passed. Now the journey was almost ended, and there was little more to overcome. I swooped lower, until I almost skimmed the surface of the waters, taking sheer pleasure In, the splash of the epray and the undulating waves that rose and fell as far as the eye could stretch hi every direction. As the Bun neared the zenith I changed my course, little by little, until I flew immediately toward it. In the midst of my exultation,. however, suddenly an awful thought occurred to me. “What if I should miss Corsica!” It sobered me. Heaven help me then, for I should fly straight southward until I reached Africa, or fell into the sea. And after night a straight, an even comparatively straight, course would be impossible. The sun crossed the zenith and blazed in the west. Now I changed my course little by little, until the sun was on my right hand. By four o’clock I should have sighted Corsica*; by six I must reach Sconto, for twilight would then be approaching. Tbe sun began perceptibly to decline It was half w’ay down in the sky. And still no sight of land! Another thought now came to mind for the first time and added to my fears. What if Zeuxis should, after all, refuse to return with me? And, further, what If the added weight impeded the aeroplane! But I forced these thoughts from me and strove desperately forward, as though by sheer effort of mentality I could add to the speed of the insensate mechanism. It must be four o’clock. Another half hour passed—an hour. The sea was changing from blue to black; In the northeast heavy thunderclouds were looming up. I did not dare think now. My brain whirled, the heavens appeared to spin; the sun, like a fiery Cyclopean eye, drew near to tjie horizon. That eye would close; and then —good night to life and all my hopes for Charles.

For my own life I cared nothing, but tbe thought of what would befall him was a torment. It sent the blood coursing furiously through my veins and my heart hammered like a hammer of doom. Six o'clock! —for the sun dipped and Its fiery edge touched the water-line. There, immeasurably expanded In apparent size, it hid itself behind the murky clouds and seemed to leer horribly at me on its passage into the depths of ocean. I was hopelessly lost now. I could only shape my course mechanically southward. But where was I? I stared out over the pitch-black waters, stirring restlessly beneath the rising wind. One hoar more, perhaps a little longer, and then — My hands ached, my body ached, and an Insurmountable lassitude weighed down my eyelids. Involuntarily I closed them for an instant. Then opening them, I cried out with Joy. For far In the distance I saw the tiniest blur of brown upon the face of the sea. It was so far to port that, had I not closed my eyes and bo relieved them from the strain of gazing over the sea, I should never have seen It But as the sun’s rim dipped under the sea I coursed over a high and rock-bound shore toward a white little town set on a hilL I dropped into the market square, and from the houses men came running up, shouting In some unintelligible speech. When the machine rested they ventured near and formed a circle round me at a respectful distance, crossing themselves and staring in amazement “Where am I?" I demanded in almost all that I knew of Italian. One hero strutted toward me, tossing back his long cloak, and answered: “Scouto." I had flown all along the coast of Corsica, to land, by some most fortunate coincidence of fate, at the precise locality of my destination! He knew me too, and began trembthnn that alone. For, as I stared into the man’s face I recognized—Zeuxis! But the coincidence was greater ling at the knees. Then, with a wild cry, he fell face down upon the stones. Small wonder when, deeming himself secure, he eaw me swoop out of the skies to drag him from his living* plane.' (TO BE CONTINUED.)

Crop Was Lasting Well.

The discovery of a carpenter, whan father, grandfather and great-grand-father practised the same craft has been commented upon in several newspapers, and at Lamberhurst, in Kent, there is a family who have been innkeepers for four centuries. In countries where the caste system prevails such a record would be thought utterly insignificant, says the London Chronicle. Grant Duff notes in his dlttry the answer made by a punkahpuller In Madras to an English lady who suggested that he might improve hi* position. “Mem-sahib, my father polled a punkah, my grandfather pulled a pukkah, all my ancestors for fear million ages pulled punkahs; and before that the god who <*ff casta p2toff a punkah for Vlahna.*