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bf IOUIS JOS H VAN(
COPYRIC 19o9 5g SEPH V
A still and sultry dusk had fallen,
closing an oppressive, wearing day:
one of those days whose sole function
seems to reside in rendering us irri
tably conscious of our too-close cas
Ings of too-solid flesh; whose humid
and inert atmosphere, sodden with
tepid moisture, clings palpably to the
-body, causing men to feel as if they
crawled, half-suffocated, at the bot
tom, of a sea of r&refled water.
The hour may have been eight; it
may have been not quite that, but it
was almost dark. The windows were
oblonks, blck 's night in the yellow
walls of O'Rourke's bedchamber in the
Hotel d'Orlent, Monte Carlo.
I have the honor to make known
to you the O'Rourke of Castle
Rourke in the county. of Galway,
Ireland; otherwise and more widely
known as Colonel Terence O'Rourke;
a chevalier of the Legion of Honor of
France; sometime an officer in the
Foreign Legion in Algiers; a wander
er, spendthrift, free-lance, cosmopol
fte-a gentleman-adventurer, he's been
He was dressing for dinner. The
glare of half a dozen electric bulbs dis
covered him all but ready for public
appearance-not, however, quite ready.
In his shirt sleeves he faced a cheval
glass, pluckily (If with the haggard
eye of exasperation) endeavoring to
outmaneuver a demon of inanimate
perversity which had entered into his
dress tie, inciting it to refuse to as
sume, for all his coaxing and his strat
agems, that effect of nonchalant per
fection so much sought after, so sel
Patently was the thing possessed
by a devil; O'Rourke made no manner
of doubt of that. Though for minutes
at a time he fumbled, fidgeted, fumed,
it was without avail. ,
His room itself was in a state of
considerable disorder-something due
mainly to O'Rourke's characteristic ef
forts to find just what he might hap
pen to desire at any given time with
out troubling to think where It ought
properly to be.
Something of this confusion, mir
rored in the glass, was likewise re
fiected in O'Rourke's eyes, what time
he paused for breath and profanity.
"Faith, 'tis worse than a daw's nest,
the place," he adr.nitted, scandalized.
"How ever did I-one lone man-do
all that, will ye be telling me?" He
flung out two helpless baffled hands,
and let them fall. After a meditative
pause he added: "Damn that . Alsa
tian! "-with reference to his latest
ad least competent valet, who had
but recently been discharged with a
flea In his ear and a month's unearn
ed wage in his pocket. "For knowing
me ways," sighed O'Rourke, "there
>was never anyone the like of Danny."
For as many as three livelong days
+this man had been reduced to the ne
cessity of dressing himself with his
own fair hands-and that at least~
kthrice daily, who did nothing by
halves. And, somehow, mysteriously,
his discarded garments had for the
most part remained where he had
thrown them, despite the earnest ef
forts of the femme de chambre to re
store something resembling order from
- this man-made chaos. For servants
all liked well the O'Rourke, improvi
dent soul that he was, freehanded
to a fault.
You are invited to picture to your
gelf O'Rourke as invariably he was
in one of his not infrequent but ever
transient phases of affluence: that is,
a very magnificent figure indeed.
Standing a bit ,over six feet, deep of
chest and lean of flank, with his long,
straight legs he looked what he had
been meant to be, a man of arms and
action. His head was shapely, its
'dark hair curling the least in the
world; and, incredibly stained, a trans
parent brown, his features were lean,
eager, and rendered very attractive
y quick boyish eyes in whose warm
lue-gray depths humor twinkled
ore often than not, though those
ame eyes were not seldom thought
u1, a trace wistful, perhaps, with
e look of one 'who recalls dear mem
ries, old friends and sweethearts
oed and lost . . . For he had
egun to live early in ~life and had
uch to look back upon, though for
all that it's doubtful if he were more
~than thirty at the time he became in
volved in the fortunes of the Pool
For the rest of him, barring the re
fractory tie, the man was strikingly
-well groomed, while his surroundings
spoke for comfortable circumstances.
On the authority of the absent and re
'retted Danny, who had long served
the O'Rourke in the intimate capaci
ties of body-servant, confidant and
chancel:a of the exchequer (this last,
of course, VM.mer tgere happened
to be any 'exc.eo1er to require a chan
cellor), there was never anyone at all
who coulk s3l nor,ey or wear
lothes like hinail, meaning the nas
te-:. And at tLis U'tne O'Rourke was
ostensib1y 4n fuLds and cons.equently
aped to advantage. His play was a
wonder of the Casino; for the mattex
of that, his high-handed and extrava
gant ways had made the entire Prin
cipality of Monaco conscious of his
presence in the land. And you fail
in the least to understand the nature
of the man if you think for a moment
that it irked him to be admired, point
ed out, courted, pursued. He was, in
deed, never so splendid as whem
aware that he occupied the public eye.
In short, he was just an Irishman,
, . . So, then, it's nothing wonder
ul that he should seem a thought fini
cal about the set of his tie.
Now as he stood scowling at him
Image, and wishing from the bottom
of his heart .he had never been fool
enough to let Danny leave him, and
calling fervent blessings down upon
the head of the fiend who first design
ed modern evening-dress for men-he
found himself suddenly with a mind
divested of any care whatever and at
tentive alone to a sound which came
to him faintly, borne upon the heavy
wings of the sluggish evening air.
[t was nothing more nor less than a
woman singing softly to herself (hum
ming would probably be the more ac
curate term), and it was merely the
tune that caught his fancy; a bit of
an old song he himself had once
been wont to sing, upon a time when
he had been a happier man. It seem
ed strange to hear !t there, stranger
still that the woman's voice, indistinct
as it was, should have such a familiar
ring in his memory. He frowned in
wonder and shook his head. "The age
of miracles is past." he muttered;
I "'twould never be herself. I've had
me chance-and forfeited it. 'Twil
not come to me a second time. .
The singing ceased. Of a sudden
O'Rourke swore with needless heat,
and, plucking away the offending tie,
cast it savagely from him. "The div
vle fly away with ye!" he said. "Is it
bent on driving me mad ye are? I'd
give me fortune to have Danny back!
...Me fortune-faith!" He laugh
ed the word to bitter soorn. "'Tis
meself that never had the least of any
thing like that without 'twas feminine
-with a 'mis-' tacked onto the front
of it!" And he strc-le away to the
window to cool off.
It was like him to forget his exas
peration in the twinkling of an eye;
another mood entirel.y swayed him by
the time he found himself gazing out
Into the vague, velvety dusk that mo
mentarily was closing down upon the
fairy-like panorama of terraced gar
dens and sullen, silken sea. His
thoughts had winged bac.k to that
dear woman of. whoni that fragment
of melody had put him in mind; and
he was sighing and heavy of heart
with longing for the sight of her and
the touch of her hand.
Even as he watched, stark night fell,
black as a pocket beneath a porten
tous pall of cloud. .. . Far out
upon the swelling bosom of the Med
Iterranean a cluster of dim lights be
trayed a stealthy coasting steamer,
O'oukeCagh is Brah-Sund
sRape Caghty his studedth ned
low stars. Ashore, endless festoons of
colored lamps draped the gloom of the
terraces; the facade of the Casino
stood out lurid against the darkness;
the hotels shone with reflected bril
liance, the palace of the Prince de
Monaco loomed high upon the penin
sula, its elevations picked out with
lines of soft fire.
The O'Rourke shook his head, con.
demning it all. "'Tis beautiful," he
said; "faith, yes! 'tis all of that. But
I'm thinking 'tis too beautiful to be
good for one-like some women I'ne
known in me time. 'Tis not good for
Terence-that's sure; 'tis the
O'Rourke that's going stale and soft
wth all this easy living. . . . Me
that. ha.3 more than many another to
live for and hope for and strive for!
...And I'm lingering here In the
very lap of lixury stuffing meself with
--'e fond, befuddling mieself with
-~ wr.. -'fme that has rougU a
)f that on nothing and a glass o
nuddy water!-risking me money a
if there was no end to it, throwing I
away in scandalous tips like an
1runken sailor! And all for the scan
satisfaction of behaving like a fool o
an Irishman. . . 'Tis sickening-die
gusting; naught less. . . 'r
thinking this night ends it, though
:ome the morning ill be pulling u:
-takes and striking out for a healthiel
simpler place, where' there's somE
thing afoot a man can take an intei
est in without losing his self-respeci
. . . I'll do just that, I will!"
This he meant, firmly, and was gla,
of it, with a heart immeasurably lighi
ened by the strength of his good rei
olution. He began to hum the 01
tune that the unknown woman's voic
had set buzzing in his brain, an
broke off to snap his fingers defiani
ly at the Casino. "That for ye!" h
flouted it-"sitting there with you
painted smile and your cold eyes, lik
the brazen huzzy ye are-Goddess c
Chance, indeed!-thinking ye hav
but to bide your time for all men t
come and render up their souls to ye
Here's once ye lose, madam; after thi
night I'm done with ye; not a sou c
mine will ever again cross your t
bles. I'll have ye to understand th
O'Rourke's a reformed character fror
the morning on!"
He laughed softly, in high feathe
vrith his conceit; and, thinking cheel
fully of the days of movement an<
cnange that were .to follow, the son;
n his heart shaped itself in word
ipon his lips.
"I'm Paddy Whack
Not long ago turned soldier-0
At grand attack,
Or storm or sack,
None than I will prove bolder-O!"
His voice was by way\ of being
tenor of tolerable quality and volum(
but untrained-nothing wonderful. I
was just the way he trolled out th
rollicking stanza that rendered it it
fectious, irresistible. For as h
i paused the voice of the woman tha
had reminded him of the song cappe
the verse neatly.
"An' whin We get the route
Wid a shout,
How they pout!
Wid a ready right-about
Goes the bould soldier-boy!"
O'Rourke caught his breath, stai
tied, stunned. "It can't be-" h
whispered. For if at first her voic(
subdued in distance, had stirred hi
memory with a touch as vague an
thrilling as the caress of a woman
hand in darkness, now that he hear
the full strength of that soprano, bel
'clear and spirited, he was sure h
knew the singer. He told himself tha
there could be no two women in th
world with voices just like that; no
another than her he knew could hay
rendered the words with so true:
spirit, so rare a brogue-tinged a
Ithat had been with the faintesi
quaintest exotic inflection imagir
But she had stopped with th<
verse half sung. His pulses quicker
ing, O'Rourke leaned forth from th
window and carried it on:
"0, 'tis thin the ladies fair
Tear their hair!
But-' 'Tis divvle a bit I care!'
Cries the bould soldier-boy!"
There fell a' pause. He listene<
with his heart in his mouth, but hear'
nothing. And it seemed impossible ti
surmise whence, from which one of a2
the rooms with windows opening upo:
that side of the hotel, had come th<
voice of the woman. She might al
well have been above as below hin
or on either side: he could not guess
But he was determined.
Now there was beneath his windo,
a balcony with a floor of wood and
rail of iron-filigree-a long balcony
extending from one corner of the h(
tel to the other. At intervals it wa
splashed with light from the window
of chambers still occupied by. guest
belated or busy, like himself, with th
task of dressing for the evening. Th
window to his left was alight; tha
on his right, dark. With hall' his hod:
on the balcony, his legs dangling with
in the room, O'Rourke watched the
opening on his left with jealous
breathless expectancy. Not a soun<
came therefrom. He hesitated.
"If that weren't her room, I'd hea
somebody moving about," he reasoned
"'Tis frightened she is-not suspect
In 'tis me. . . .But how do I knov
'tis herself? . .. Faith! could m<
ears deceive me?"
With that he took heart of hope an<
broko manfully into the chorus, sing
ing directly to the lighted window
singing the first line with ardor an<
fervor, with confidence and with hope
singing persuasively, pleadingly, an~
"For the worrld is all befo-ore us--"
he sang and then 11aused. He hear<
no echo. And again he essayed, witl
that In his tone to melt a heart a
"For the worrld is all befo-ore us--"
Andl now he triumphed and was
lifted out of himself with sheer de
light; for from the adjoining .roon
came the next line:
"And landladies ado-ore us-"
Unable to contain himself, h<
chimed in, and in duet they sang i
out to the rousing finale:
"Th y be'er rayfuse to sco-ore us,
Bu+ chltus up wid joy
We t:at her tap, we tear her cap
'O, that's the chap
For me.' cri:.s she
I n't ?.e Lhe darlint, the bould soldier
f d rheaj raint
5fies. "'Tis herself," he declared in
t an agony of anticipation-"herself and
7 none other! And I'm thinking she'll
t be coming to the window now-"
f He was right. Abruptly he discov
ered her by the reflected glow fr9m
a the illumination behind him. He was
conscious of the pallid oval of her
face, of a sleek white sheen of arms
, and shoulders, of a dark mass of hair,
but more than all else of the glamour
of eyes that shone into his softly,
like limpid pools of darkness touched
by dim starlight.
Inflamed, he leaned toward her.
"Whist, darling!" he stammered.
"Whist! 'Tis mysel'f-'tis Terence-"
But she was gone. A low, stifled
e laugh was all his answer-that and
I the silken whisper of her skirts as she
scurried from the window. He flush
e ed crimson, waited an instant, then
r flung discretion to the winds, and
e found himself scrambling out upon the
f balcony. Heaven only knows to what
e lengths the man would have gone had
D not the slam of a door brought him up
standing; she had left her room!
s So she thought to escape him so
f easily! He swore between his teeth
L- with excitement and tumbled, back
e whence he had come. Regardless of
a the fact that he was still in his shirt
sleeves he rushed madly for the door.
r On the way a shooting-jacket on the
- door, perhaps in revenge for neglect
d and ill-treatment, maliciously wound it
"The Divvie!" He Said Beneath His
self around his feet and all but threw
him headlong; only a frantic clutch at!
e the footrail of the bed saved him.
t~ Kicking the thing savagely off he
e flung himself upon the door and threw
t it open. His jaw dropped.
e The lift shaft was directly opposite.
SBefore it, in morb or less patient wait-.
sng, stood a very young and beautiful
woman in a gown whose extreme can
dor was surpassed only by the perfec
tion of its design and appointment
both blatant of the Rue de la Paix;
a type as common to the cognoscenti
e of Monte Carlo as the Swiss hotel por-J
ters. But O'Rourke did not know her1
"The divvle!" said he beneath his
He was mistaken; but the young!
woman, at first startled by his uncer
emonious appearance, on instantan
eous second thought decided to per
Umit him to discover that twin Imps,
at least, resided in her eyes. And!
when his disappointment prevented
hLim Ironri recognizing them, her dawn
ing smile was swiftly erased and her;
'ascending eyebrows spoke eloquently
enough of her haughty displeasure.
Synchronously the lift hesitated at
that landing and the gate clanged
wide; the young woman wound her
skirt about her and showed him a
back which at any other time wouldI
have evoked his unstinted admiration.
Then the gate shot to with a rattle
l and bang, and the lift dropped out of
Ssight, leaving the man with mouth
agape and eyes as wide.
A beaming but elderly femme de.
chambre on duty in the corridor, re
marking O'Rourke's pause of stupefied:
chagrin, hoped and believed he need
ed her services. She bore down upori
I"M'sieu' is desirous of-?"
rHe came out of his trance. "Noth
ing," he told her with acid brevity.
"But, yes," he 'reconsidered with
haste. "That lady who but this mo
ment took the lif-her name ?"
"Her name, m'sieu'? Ma'm'selle Vol.
"Impossible!" he told himself aloud,
utterly unable to forge any connecting
link between the lady in the lift and
her whose voice had bewitched him.
"But assuredly, m'sieu'. Do I not~
know-I who have waited upon her
hand and foot these three days and to
whom she has not given as much as!
-that." The woman ticked a finger
nail -against her strong white
~teeth. "Ma'm'selle Victorine Vol
taire," she asserted stubbornly.
O'Rourke fumbled in his pocket and!
dering golden ten-franc piece, surren
deigit to the woman as heedlessly
as though it had been as many cen.
times. "I'll be leaving me room in fives
minutes, now. And do ye, for the love
of Heaven, me dear, try to set me
things the least trifle to rights. Will
ye ncw, like the best little girl in
The b>est little girl in the world,
who was~ forty-five if a day, promised
miracles-with a bob of a courtesy.
But so disgruntled was O'Rourke that
hie shut his door in her ince.
"'Tis meself thai.'s the tool," hec
said savagely encu- ' "tn- .* Mr a
- mnment that eve" #" T'"11
eyes on. her pretty " M^d" h1ess fit, I
-hrpp r n' mhTmn
I ' 4 walk:
- s,rve t,
e abody and
a :mosphe: . and comma
imp3ressed w;.th personality?"
HOw tO tHavo Eye, 1
BRIEF 0TATMENTG FR
Milam hasgiven me a great :pp 'te.rd
cleared and softened my skin. I. . Ii... -
don. Spray, N. C.
Milam has restored ry sig.t alnost c.
tirely. I was nearly blind when I started
its use. W. E. Griggs, Secy. 2nd Treas.
We.;tbrcoks Elevator Co., Danv ille, Va.
Milan cured me of eczenw ;.iter1 had
suffered with it 26 years and despaired of
relief. C. H. Williams, salesman for
Cluett, Peabody & Co., Troy, N. Y.
WHY NOT LOOK, FEEL
Ask your drugg;st for six bottles of
noney back if
.. .......... . .........,.~
The best part of the day is t1
gathered together around the lami
The old days of the smoky fireplace
place have come the convenient oil stove
Therie are to-day, in the United State
lamps, giving their clear, white light to m
Other lamps cost more, but you cann<
gives,~ It has become so popular we ma)
The Ray'o is made of solid brass, with'
Ask your dealer for aRayo lamp: or w
We have just.
S talk Cutter on
A special price
Complete line V
gies. Please call
We have the
line of firewor)
pends almost entirely upon heiath.
ng in the ruck? As itnan says
have eyes, blood, complexion clean
soul that when ycu enter a crowd,
id enters with you and every one is
lood and Comp:exion
M.1 RA~LE PCL.E:
I have suffered :Umy life with my cyes..
Snce taking ilm I can read very fine
*rnt ar, co em rcr o rk atnih
-.itbovt g s Miss Kate Mebane, R.
F. D. No. 2. Blanche, N. C.
I suffered with a dreadful skin disease
from which I could get no relief until I
tried Milam. This is the first spring and
summer I have enjoyed in three years.
Miss Winnifred Poston, 731 Patterso Ave..
and BE at Your Best?
rid bceing ad, eaegn oee.I hi
ud te idispnsale Ryo amp
...alone,.more . than 3,0,0 fteeRy
rec vd thfnipnal aoull in
lo ws or ha ,0,00o thesc ad
ows.a300,0 he bes
the taret reiadyam f h
>ndm Stck Fnshaomenting.es
ntaorsciecrul any uge-i
ows Te bes