Hope Republican, Volume 2, Number 5, Hope, Bartholomew County, 25 May 1893 — Page 3

nil YELLOW MASK BY WILKIE COLLINS. I’art Third, CHAPTER III.— Continued. Iu spite of himself ho trembled at her touch, but still retained presence of mind enough to sign to the girl to make her escape. With a look of eager inquiry in the direction of the Mask, and a half-sup-pressed exclamation of terror, she obeyed him and hastened away to the ball-room. ‘We are alone, ” said Fabio, confronting the gleaming black eyes, and reaching out his hand resolutely toward the Yellow Mask. “Tell me who you are, and why you follow me, or I will uncover your face and solve the mystery for myself." The woman pushed his hand aside, and drew back a few paces, but never spoke a word. He followed her. There was not an instant to be lost, for just then the sound of footsteps hastily approaching the corridor became audible. “Now or never,” he whispered to himself, and snatched at the mask. His arm was again thrust aside; but this time the woman raised her disengaged hand at the same moment, and removed the yellow mask. The lamps shed their soft light full on her face. It was the face of his dead wife.

CHAPTER IV. Signor Andrea d’Arbino, searching vainly through the various rooms in the palace for Count Fabio d’Ascoli, and trying as a last resource, the corridor leading to the ball room and grand staircase, discovered his friend lying on the floor in a swoon, without any living creature near him. Determined to avoid alarming the guests if possible, D’Arbino first sought help in the antechamber. He found the Marquis’s valet assisting the Cavaliere Finello (who was just taking his departure) to put on his cloak. While Finello and his friend carried Fabio to an open window in the antechamber the valet procured some iced water. This simple remedy and the change of atmosphere proved enough to restore the fainting man to his senses, but hardly—as it seemed to his friends —to his former self. They noticed a change to blankness and stillness in his face, and when he spoke an indescribable alteration in the tone of his voice. “I found you in a room in the corridor,” said D’Arbino. “What made you faint? Don’t, you remember? Was it the heat?” Fabio waited for a moment painfully collecting his ideas. He looked at the valet and Finello signed to the man to withdraw. “Was it the heat?” repeated D'Arbino. “No,” answered Fabio in strangely hushed, steady tones. “I have seen the face that was behind the yellow mask.” “Well?” “It was the face of my dead wife.” “Your dead wife!” “When the mask was removed I saw her face. Not as I remember it in the pride of her youth and beauty —not even as I remember her on her sick bed —but as I remember her in her coffin ” “Count! for God’s sake rouse yourself! Collect your thoughts—remember where you are and free your mind of its horrible delusion.” “Sparc rnc all remonstrances; I am not fit to bear them. My life has only one object now—the pursuing of this mystery to the 'end. Will you help mo? I am scarcely fit to act for myself.” He still spoke in the same unnaturally hushed, deliberate tones. D’Arbino and Finello exchanged glances behind him as he rose from the sofa on which he had been lying. “W T e will help you in everything,” said D’Arbino, soothingly. “Trust in us to the end. What do you wish to do first?”

“The figure must have gone through this room. Let us descend the staircase and ask the servants if they have seen it pass. ” (Both D’Arbino and Finello remarked that he did not say her.) They inquired down to the courtyard. Not one of the servants had seen the Yellow Mask. The last resource was the porter at the outer gate. They applied to him; and in answer to their questions he asserted that he had most certainly seen a lady in a yellow domino and mask drive away, about half an hour before, in a hired coach. “Should you remember the coachman again?” asked D’Arbino. “Perfectly; he is an old friend of mine.” “And you know where he lives?” “Yes; as well as I know where I do.” V “Any reward you like, if you can 'get somebody to mind your lodge, and can take us to that house.” ; in a few minutes they were following the porter through the dark, si.leut streets. “We had better try

the stables first,” said the man. “My friend the coachman will hardly have had time to do more than set the lady down. We shall most likely catch him just putting up his horses.” The porter turned out to be right. On entering the stable-yard, they found that the empty coach had just driven into it. “You have been taking home a lady in a yellow domino from the masquerade?” said D’Arbino, putting some money into the coachman’s hand.

“Yes, sir; I was engaged by that lady for the evening—engaged to drive her to the ball as well as to drive her home.” “Where did you take her from?” “From a very extraordinary place—from the gate of the Campo Santo buriaUground.” During this colloquy Finello and D’Arbino had been standing with Fabio between them, each giving | him an arm. The instant the last i answer was given, he reeled back | with a cry of horror. “Where have you taken her to now?” asked D’Arbino. He looked about him nervously as he put the question, and spoke for the first time in a whisper. “To the Campo Santo again," said the coachman. Fabio suddenly drew his arms out of the arms of his friends,and sank to his knees on the ground, hiding his face. From some broken ejaculations which escaped him, it seemed as if he dreaded that his senses were leaving him, and that he was praying to be preserved in his right mind. “Why is he so violently agitated?” said Finello eagerly to his friend. “Hush!” returned the other. “You heard him say that when he saw the face behind the yellow mask, it was the face of his dead wife?” “Yes. But what then?” “His wife was buried in the Campo Santo.” CHAPTER V. Of all the persons who had been present, in any capacity, at the Marquis Mclani’s ball, the earliest riser on the morning after it was Nanina. The agitation produced by the strange events in which she had been concerned destroyed the very idea of sleep. Through the hours of darkness she could not even close her eyes; and, as soon as the new day broke, she rose to breathe the early morning air at her window, and to think in perfect tranquility over all that had passed since she entered the Melani Palace to wait on the guests at the masquerade. On reaching home the previous night, all her other sensations had been absorbed in a vague feeling of mingled dread and curiosity, produced by the sight of the weird figure in the yellow mask, which she had left standing alone with Fabio in the palace corridor. The morning light, however, suggestedhew ideas. She now opened the note which the young nobleman had pressed into her hand, and read over and over again the pencil lines scrawled on the paper. Could there be any harm, any forgetfulness of her own duty, in using the key inclosed in the note, and keeping her appointment in the Ascoli gardens at 10 o’clock? Surely not—surely the last sentence he had written, “Believe in my truth and honor, Nanina, for I believe implicitly in yours,” was enough to satisfy her this time that she could not be doing wrong in listening for once to the pleadings of her own heart. And besides, there in her lap lay the key of the wicket gate. It was absolutely necessary to use that, if only for the purpose of giving it back safely into the hand of its owner. As this last thought was flitting through her mind, and plausibly overcoming any faint doubts and diff ulties which she might still have left, she - was startled by a knocking at the street door; and, looking out of the window immediately, saw a man in liver}- standing in the street, anxiously peering up at the house to see if his knocking had aroused anybody. “Does Marti Angrasina, the sicknurse, live here?” inquired the man, as soon as Nanina showed herself at the window. “Yes,” she answered. “Must I call her up? Is there some person ill?” “Call her up directly,” said the servant; “she is wanted at the Ascoli Palace. My master, Count Fabio—” Nanina waited to hear no more. She flew to the room in which the sick-nurse slept, and awoke her, almost roughly, in an instant. “He. is ill I” she cried breathlessly. “Oh, make haste! make haste! He is ill, and he has sent for you!” Marta inquired who had sent for her, and on being informed, promised to lose no time. Nanina ran down stairs to tell the servant that the sick nurse was getting on her clothes. The man’s serious expression, when she came close to him, terrified him. All her usual selfdistrust vanished; and she entreated him, without attempting to conceal her anxiety, to tell her particularly what his master’s illness was,

and how it had affected him so suddenly after the ball. “I know nothing about it,” answered the man, noticing Nanina’s manner as she put her question with some surprise, “except that my master was brought home by two gentlemen, friends of his, about a couple of hours ago, in a very sad state —half out of his mind, as it seemed to me. I gathered from what was said that he had got a dreadful shock from seeing some woman take off her mask, and show her face to him at the ball. How that could be I don’t in the least understand; but I know that when the doctor was sent for, he looked very serious, and talked about fearing brain-fever.”

Here the servant stopped; for, to his astonishment, he saw Nanina suddenly turn away from him, and then heard her crying bitterly as she went back into the house. Marta Angrisani had huddled on her clothes, and was looking at herself in the glass to see that she was sufficiently presentable to appear at the palace, when she felt two arms flung round her neck; and before she could say a word, found Nanina sobbing on her bosom. “He is ill—he is in danger!” cried the girl. “I must go with 3'ou to help him. You have always been kind to me, Marta —be kinder than ever now. Take me with you—take me with you to the palace!” “You, child!” exclaimed the nurse, gently unclasping her arms. “Yes—yes! if it is only for an hour,” pleaded Nanina—“if it is only for one little hour every day. You have only to say that I am your helper, and they would let me in. Marta! I shall break my heart if I can’t see him, and help him to get well again.” The nurse still hesitated. Nanina clasped her round the neck once more, and laid her cheek —burning hot now, though the tears had been streaming down it but an instant before —close to the good woman’s face. “I love him, Marta; great as he is, I love him with all my heart and soul and strength,” she went on, in quick, eager, whispering tones; “and he loves me. He would have married me, if I had not gone away to save him from it. I could keep my love for him a secret while he was well; I could stifle it, and crush it down, and, wither it up by absence. But now he is ill, it gets beyond me; I can’t master it. Oh, Marta! don’t break my heart by denying me! I have suffered so much for his sake, that I have earned the right to nurse him!” Ma’’ta was not proof against this last appeal. She had one great and rare merit for a middle-aged woman —she had not forgotten her own youth. “Come, child,” said she soothingly; “I won’t attempt to deny you. Dry your eyes, put on your mantilla; and, when we get face to face with the doctor, try to look as old and ugly as you can, if you want to be let into the sick room alone with me. ” The ordeal of medical scrutiny was passed more easily than Marta Angrisana had anticipated. It was of great importance, in the doctor’s opinion, that the sick man should see familiar faces at his bedside. Nanina had only, therefore, to state that he knew her well, and tnat she had sat to him as a model in the days when he was learning the art of sculpture, to be immediately accepted as Marta’s privileged assistant in the sick room. The worst apprehensions felt by the doctor for the patient were soon realized. The fever flew to his brain. For nearly six weeks he lay prostrate, at the mercy of death; now raging with the wild strength of delirium, and now sunk in the speechless, motionless, sleepless exhaustion which was his only repose At last the blessed day came when he enjoyed his first sleep, and when the doctor began, for the first time, to talk of the future with hope. Even then, however, the same terrible peculiarity marked his light dreams which had previously shown itself in his fierce delirum. From the faintly uttered, broken phrases which dropped from him when he slept, as from the wild words which burst from him when his senses were deranged, the one sad discovery inevitably resulted—that his mind was still haunted, day and night, hour after hour, by the figure in the yellow mask. As his bodily health improved, the doctor in attendance on him grew more and more anxious as to the state of his mind. There was no appearance of any positive derangement of intellect, but there was a mental depression—an unaltering, invincible prostration, produced by his absolute belief in the reality of the dreadful vision that he had seen at the masked ball —which suggested to the physician the gravest doubts about the case. He saw with dismay that the patient showed no anxiety, as he got stronger; except on one subject. He was eagerly desirous of seeing Nanina every day by his bedside; but as soon as he was assured that his wish should' be

faithfully complied with, he seemed to care for nothing more. Even when they proposed, in the hope of I’ousing him to an exihibition of something like pleasure, that the girl should read to him for an hour every day out of one of his favorite books, he only showed a languid satisfaction. Weekspassedaway,and still, do what they would, they could not make him do so much as smile. One day Nanina had begun to read to him as usual, but had not proceeded far before Marta Angrisani informed her that he had fallen into a doze. She ceased with a sigh and sat looking at him sadly as Tie lay near her, faint and pale and mournful in his sleep—miserably altered from what he was when she first knew him. It had been a hard trial to watch by his bedside in the terrible time of his delirium, but it was a harder trial to look at him now and to feel less and less hopeful with each succeeding dav. While her eyes and thoughts were still compassionately fixed on him the door of the bed room opened and the doctor came in, followed by Andrea d’Arbino, whose share in the strange adventure with the Yellow Mask caused him to feel a special interest in Fabio’s progress toward recovery. (to be continued.) RUBBER FROM CRUDE OIL. Recent Important Discovery Which Has Been Kept a Secret. Baltimore Manufacturers’ Record. A most unique manufacturing establishment, the only one of its kind in the world, has been in successful operation for some months at Savannah, Ga. Here cottonseed oil is manufactured by a secret process into rubber—not a substitute, but bona fide rubber; such, at least, some of the best experts have pronounced the product of the factory to be. Nobody knows anything about what is going on inside of the factory with the exception of a few ignorant workmen. Nobody is admitted. The bare facts alone are known that crude cotton-seed oil from the oil mill, costing about 50 cents a gallon, or about $135 per ton, is carted in in five ton lots, and that tons of rubber worth about $1 per pound or $2,000 per ton, are carted out and shipped to a very prominent rubber dealer and manufacturer of Boston. In a recent interview the discoverer of the process, who is an artist of some prominence, states that while experimenting with cottonseed oil to produce a varnish for paintings he obtained a product entirely foreign to his expectation—not a way to make varn : sh, but rubber. He claims that his process is so simple that it is riot patentable; hence his only safeguard is in the secrecy of the process. The only information he gives is that he uses only 15 per cent, of genuine rubber to produce an article which cannot be distinguishable from the crude India rubber. As soon as his discovery was made he went at once to Boston, where a number of rubber experts pronounced the product genuine rubber, and would not believe that such an article could be produced by artificial means. A prominent rubber manufacturer of Boston recognized at once the value of the discovery and took a different view from the rest and purchased an interest in the process and placed $30,000 at the command of the discoverer for the purpose of erecting the necessary plant. The existence and availability of the rubber trees is limited and it is doubtful if much higher prices than the present quotations would have the effect of causing a corresponding increase in the production. Artificially planted rubber trees would require many years before they could be made to yield and the present rubber forest is deteriorating fast. Any discoveries in the line of a quick and cheap process for the manufacture of artificial rubber are likely, therefore, to possess great commercial value and importance.

Facts About Glycerine. Glycerine is one of the most useful and misunderstood of everyday assistants. It must not be applied to the skin undiluted, or it will cause it to become red and hard, but if rubbed well into the skin while wet it has a softening and whitening effect. It will prevent and cure chapped hands; two or three drops will often stop the baby’s stomach ache. It will allay the thirst of a fever patient and soothe an irritable cough by moistening the dryness of the throat. Equal parts of bay rum and glycerine applied to the face after shaving makes a man rise up and call the woman who provided it blessed. Applied,to shoes glycerine is a great preservative of the leather, and effectually keeps out water and prevents damp feet. A few drops of glycerine put in the fruit jars the last thing before sealing them helps to keep the preserves from molding on top. For flatulency there is no better remedy than a teaspoonful of glycerine after each meal.

INDIANA ODD FELLOWS. Sixty-First Semi-Annual Session of the Grand Lodge. Present Condition* Shown lly Report* of the Grand Officers—A Prosperous Half Year. The sixty-first semi-annual meeting of the Grand Lodge of Odd Fellows, of Indiana, convened Wednesday morning in the Grand Lodge hall, at Washington and Pennsylvania streets, Indianapolis, and heard the reports of the grand officers. Grand Master Enoch G. Hogate in his report, says ho believes that in no six months of the existence of the order have so many evidences of increased prosperity been apparent as in the six months Just closed. Dispensations have been granted to three lodges and charters to fifteen Eobekah degree lodges issued. Grand Secretary B. F. Foster in his report says: Our net increase in membership for the term is 1,035, which is above the average for the December term. If to this is added the net increase for the term ending Juno 30,1893, we have the grand total of 3,231 as the net gain for the year. Our relief report for the term may be summed up as follows: Two thousand,two hundred and seventy brothers, and 189 widowed families have been relieved. The sum of 149,850.03 lias been paid for the relief of brothers; $3,148.00 for the relief of widowed families; 8186.49 for the education of orphans; 811,700.75 for burying the dead, and $4,589.33 for other charitable purposes, making the total amount of relief $68,475.11, If wo add this to the sum reported for June 30, 1893, wo have the sum of $163,255.21 as the relief for tho year 1892. The report of Grand Treasurer Theo. P. Hanghey shows that during the year $10,347.28 has been received into the general fund, which had a balance of $17,748.89. From tho same fund $6,024.03 has been paid out for various expenses. Of tho assets $18,473.07 is in cash and $22,800 in Grand Lodge Hall stock, making a total of $41,273.07. Of this $3,585.50 is due to the Odd Fellows’ Homo, and $1,410 to defunct lodges. The report of the grand trustees shows that an aggregate of $5,032.52 has been received, which, added to tho balance of $6,893.55, makes a total of $11,925.07. The disbursements amounted to $5,081.90. Dividends amounting to $3,486.25 have been paid since last report, and $166.25 in dividends remain on hand uncalled for. At Thursday's session legislative subjects were discussed. Among them was that of doing away with the visiting card. Thenomination of officers forelection next November was made, and a contest developed for the grand wardenship. Following are the nominations: Grand Master—W. H. Talbott, of Orleans. Deputy Grand Master—M. A. Chipman, of Anderson. Grand Warden—H. L. Williamson, of Ft. Wayne; A. C. Beecher, of Lagrange; D. M. Bell, of Dunkirk; R. L. Higginbotham, of Delphi; E. J. Loveland, of Peru; J. A. Hendman, of Hartford City; S. C. Hinnes, of Muncie; C. F. Northern, of Greensburg, W. B. McDonald, of Augusta; C. C. Frey, of Seymour; Edwin Farrer, of Rushvillo; J. E. Edmondson, of Bloomington; George Shirts, of Noblesville. Grand Secretary—B. F. Foster, of Indianapolis. Grand Treasurer—T. P.- Haughey, of Indianapolis. Grand Representative—E. G. Hogate, of Indianapolis. Trustees—George Shirts, of Noblesville; G. P. Anderson, J. A. Ferguson and J. F. Wallick, of Indianapolis. The session adjourned Thursday afternoon.

DAUGHTERS OF REBEKAH. Kigiith Annual Convention at Indianapolis. The eighth annual convention of the Daughters of Rebekah, which was the largest ever held in Indianapolis by abojit two hundred delegates, elected officers, Tuesday, as follows: President —Mrs. L. M. Lefever, Union City. Vice President—Mrs. Roxey S. Hathaway, Aurora. Secretary—Mrs. Mary Syreapey, New Albany. Treasurer—Mrs. Emma Reed, Sullivan. Chaplain—Mrs. Pothes, Terre Haute. The convention also elected delegates to the national convention of the Daughters of Rebekah, to be held in Chicago in September. The following are the delegates elected: Anna I. Henderson, of South Bend; Bello Tracster, of Aurora; Mary McAlpine, of Evansville; Sallie G.'Jackson, of Jeffersonville. The alternates were: Miss Alice McQuiddy, Indianapolis; Mary L. Mayer, of Thorntown; Sadie Carter, of Camden; Mrs. Pothes, of Terre Haute. Ex-President Harrison and ox-Postmas-ter General VVanamaker attended Saturday’s session of the International Y. M. C. A. convention at Indianapolis. Both made brief addresses and were given a cordial and enthusiastic reception. Patents were granted Indiana inventors for the week ending Tuesday as follows: J. B. Deeds and A. Mack, Terre Haute, grinding machine; A. Delatter, Goshen, vehicle seat; F. Farmer, Richmond, pawl and ratchet mechanism; J. M. Harter and S. E. Harsh, Wabash, gag swivel; D. Hay, North Manchester, flue thimble; Z. Lassar, assignor of two-thirds to C. C. Dunn and A. Conner, Stilesvillc, stone channeling machine; W. B. Martindalo, Rochester, automatic time stamp; J. W. Turner, Van Wert, O., assignor of half to T. Clapper. Hartford City, saw swage; E. Walker, New Albany, device for chalking lines; J. A. Ward, Greenwood, lathing harness; J. 6. Whittier, Attica, d~or check. Trade Marks—South Bend Medicine Company, South Bend, Ind., and Chicago, 111., cosmetic. At a meeting recently held at Cleveland, O., the Clearing House Association decided to use only standard time in all of the banks, which will take effect some time next month.