OCR Interpretation

The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, January 24, 1903, Colored section, Image 17

Image and text provided by Minnesota Historical Society; Saint Paul, MN

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045366/1903-01-24/ed-1/seq-17/

What is OCR?

Thumbnail for

L. S. Buffington of the Art Commission, Evolves an Elaborate Plan to Beautify the Lower Business District of the City
L. S. Buffington. member of the city
art commission and architect of some of
the most prominent buildings of Minne
apolis, has evolved some architectural,
ideas which contemplate startling changes:
in the sky line of lower Hennepin and
Nicollet avenues. By the co-operation of
railroads and the city council he believes
it would be possible to acquire the prop
erty abutting on the Bridge square junc
tion of the avenues from the river up to:
First street, establish magnificent union -
depot facilities and replace the present:
structures with architecture of a strik
ing design, set off by contrast with
esplanades and columns commemorative.
of the city's growth.
Mr. Buffington's plan provides for two
handsome depots on either side of Bridge
square, of sufficient capacity to accom
modate the city until its population should
approximate a million.
The House.with the Courtyard.
"What are you going to do next?"
asked the girl, looking from Lady Drayton
to her father.
"Well," returned Sir Peter, "Waveriey
has been telling me about a drive that
one ought to take. One goes out into the
hills, and there's a view, and it's cool.
It takes about three or four hours to go
and come, but the day is young, and I
don't see that we could spend our after
noon in any better way."
A bright rose-pink burnt on. Eve's
cheeks, and her eyes were stars. It
seemed to her that fate was going out of
its way to befriend her. She wisely kept
her intentions to herself until the carriage
was ordered for the drive, and then said
that as her head ached a little (which
was quite true) she would prefer to stay
behind and rest. "We can keep on these
rooms," she suggested, "and I shall be
quite safe and happy till you come back
and pick me up." Of course there were
objections, especially from Waveriey,
whose whole afternoon would be spoilt by
Eve's absence but her father was in
clined to let the girl have her own way.
She really did look feverish, he thought
and as she had behaved very well about
his coup d'etat with Dick Knight, and
had besides been satisfactory in her treat
men of Lord Waveriey, he did not see why
she should not sleep instead of drive to
day if she chose.
They had lunched early, and by half
past two those who were going on the
excursion had driven away from the hotel
In an odd vehicle, protected from i:he
un with a white awning. Eve was left
She went Into the suite of rooms en
gaged for the afternoon, but she did not
lie down. Being a very human girl she
looked at herself in the mirror,, altered a
little straying curl or two on her fore-
head,' arranged her big white gauze hat
at a more becoming .angle, rejoiced that
her white muslin frock was to all ap
pearances as fresh as when-her-maid had
put her into it In the.morning, and was
glad that she had happened to choose a
drss which Dick had once admired- How
heavenly it would \ be to see him again,
and what heaps they would have to say
to each other, about'past,' present "arid
.future! . ' \
Presently, Swinging! her white sunshade
carelessly, she strolled out through one
of the long windows into the garden.
There she looked anxiously about, but no
body was in sight, not even the Moorish
servants, who with the deft-speed of thib
genie in the "Arabian Nights," had al
ready. removed tables, rugs and chairs,'.
As an excuse for being there Eve plucked
a white rose and'slipped it through her
belt, in case hidden eyes might be loos
ing. Then she wandered under the-olive
tEWMft* W if aimlessly, andstill without
Mr. Buffington also has his mind's eye
on a river front park. He suggests that
the river bank now occupied by the union
- station and the railroad yards be con
verted., into an embankment and park,
. like that which borders the Thames in.
London. At the intersection of Henne
pin and "Nicollet avenues he would erect
a tower of imposing design of sufficient
height to be seen for a mile up or down
the river, to commemorate the discover
ers of St. Anthony Falls and the explor
ers of the Mississippi river. The archi
tecture should be of-French and Spanish
designs to accord with the nationalities
of the discoverers who opened the new
world to civilized man. Surrounding the
tower, he would have four groups of stat
uary, the one facing the river to be in
memory of Father Hennepin, who named
the falls.
Mr. Buffington would replace th% old
Mmm ^
having met any onedarted finally into
the walled path which was a short cut to
the town. Now everything depended upon
Sidi Mahrez. If he had giyen up his mis
sion in despair, or if he had grown we.ary
of watching arid dropped into a noonday
nap, she would.be helpless, for she could
not possibly find the house of "Lola H.
M.." Dick Knight's kind friend, without a
- She walked a little way down the stony
path, growing more anxious with every
step she took, when suddenly she heard
a soft patter of naked feet behind her.
She turned quickly, and saw the old bell
dancer (carefully shorn of his bells now)
almost at her shoulder. Evidently he had
been hiding In the hotel garden, had seen
her start, and followed as soon as it
seemed. prudent.
He made a sign which warned the girl
to silence and caution when she opened
her lips to try if he .could understand a
little French or English and then, with a
certain dramatic grace, made Eve compre
hend by dumb show that they must not
be seen walking together. He slipped
ahead of her, In the narrow path, and in
dicated the distance which it was advis
able to put between them. At last, still
with swift and emphatic gesture, he as
sured the girl that she had only to keen
him in, sight from afar off, to be led in the
desired direction.
After'all, it appeared, they were not to
go down to the town. The old black man
whisked round the first turn they reached
and then began going up hill again. Ap
parently the house of Dick's friend lay
above the town, like the hotel which Eve
was leaving far behind.
This was the least busy time of the day
in Tangier. It was the hour for rest and
peace. It s,eemed to Bye that all the in
habitants who had 6fow(ded the narrow
streets and the wide, bare market place
must "be.asleep," for as . she went on she
met rio one, not even a boy wilh a donkey.
After a walk
the-bell .dahcer^-abbut *
front bf/Eve-pstppped ,at-.a.:.
white wall which surrounded a villa set in
a garden.. This must
then. The girl thought Vihat it
pretty ,arid her imagination began to pic
turea: liieetirig with Dick/'hi ki romantic
oriental "garden or'in . at7 shaded, room,
swept with roses. ,i,"-'.':V--.': : .''- -- . -
The gateposts were inlaid with quaint
tiles,'yellow and blue, set irito the glaring
White - plaster, and shining in the blaze of
the African sun. Sidi Mahrez rapg a
jifiglirtg bell, arid then, ."motioning to. Eve
to approach, he'movedraway, stopping at
a.distance as if,' to make sure, that she
was admitted. She had stood waiting for
a moment or two in a pool of blinding
light, when the gate was thrown open,
to show a cool vista of greenery under
plane trees that made an arbor over the
4 ^
m " *'- ~-^fl-i ''
: of perhajJs:
Jt "^
J 't
half an hour
Jn^tjre paceshigin gat lii a h
" house,
Defective- Page w
* '/
straight path which led to the house. The
person who opened the gate stood mod
estly behind it, keeping out of sight until
Eve had stepped in., She had half hoped
that Dick might have been watching for
her to come, and that now he would ap
pear from behind the gate and surprise
her. But it was only a servant who closed
it as she entered not a picturesque Moor
ish servant like those she had seen at the
hotel, but a little dark woman in Euro
pean dress who looked like an Italian
The girl's sole knowledge of the Italian
language had been acquired from her mu
sic teacher, and therefore she addressed
the woman in Frecnch:
"Madame, your mistress has Invited me
to come here this afternoon," announced
Eve. "Will you kindly let her know that
Miss Markham has arrived?"
The woman's only-answer was a bow.
She did not even smile, but having eyed
the lovely English girl with a stolid, ex
pressionless gaze, she turned to show the
way to the house. Now that Eve came to
see it, the garden in which she had pic
tured her meeting with Dick Knight was
rather dasolate and neglected, despite the
grateful shade of the crowding trees.
There was only one dilapidated seat to be
seen, and she began to hope that, after
all, "Lola" might give them a drawing
room to themselves.
The house was built partly in oriental
fashion, for, entering a doorway, they
crossed a large room or hall, entirely un
furnished, and came out on the other side
irito a square courtyard, with a path of
pink and yellow gravel running all round
it, and a melancholy fountain and a few
orarige trees, loaded with golden fruit, in
the middle. This courtyard they also
crossed, and entered the house again on
the opposite side. Here they passed
through room after, room, all much alike,
with their rugs and divans, ascended a
stone stairway with shallow steps, went
on through more dim : rooms, until at
length the servant paused at the foot of
three steps which led up to a room with
one large, deep-set, closely-barred win
dow opposite the door. Bowing, she mo
tioned Eve to enter, and the girl obeyed,
springing eagerly up the steps, expecting
to find "Lola" waiting to receive, her.
But no one was there and to all save
Eastern eyes the room must have ^.seemed
an odd one. In front of the window, which
was raised on a sort of platform above
the floor, rugs were spread on them many
beautifully embroidered cushions were
piled. In an alcove were more cushions
and more rugs, folded up. The window
was divided into two sashes, both of which
stood open, but the close iron bars on
the outside such as one sees in the win
dows of all harems-in Morocco, looked as
if made on purpose to prevent the occu
pants of the room from leaning out.
Eve sat' down on the cushions in the
window seat, and -looked away towards
the sea. From this window very little
of the town was visible , only the wide
expanse of water - - arid' sky. "Charmed,
magic caseinehts opening on the foam.
Of desolate seas, in fairylands forlorn,"-
she quoted to herself..:.Arid-a sense of
isolation and desolation settled down upon
the girl. She wished that Dick's friend
woulS coriie to welcome her,, or better still,
that Dick himself /, would appear., It
seemed a shariie.to waste even a moment,
when the time they two could, have to
gether was so precious yet many, many
moments-were 'being deliberately wasted.,
By-and-bye, it -really began to -appear
very strange thaj: she should be -left
alone so long.-': . - . . - - -
The girl ^brea-little. braceletrwatch on
her wrist. She had not thought to giahce
at it when she first came into the house,
but after sl\e had sat so long in the
room that she knew the pattern'of em
broidery and^spjangles^on every cushion,
and had hurt her eyes by continued star
ing at the glittering sea she grew very
impatient and restless, and remembered
the Watch. It was close upon jfour
o'clock, and a hasty calculation told her
that she must have been kept waiting
more than half-an-hour.
Perhaps she tried to console herself by
arguing "Lola" was the kind of woman
who took ages to dress heiself, and never
was ready for anything at the right time.
Perhaps it would be considered a ter
rible thing in this country if she and
Dick met without a chaperone. Lola's
letter had /made some suggestion about
chaperoning her.. Probably '- this horrid
delay would turn out to be something
idiotic-of that sort but really it was too
too bad. It had seemed so i providential
that this chance of a glorious , long aft
ernoon'with Dick had suddenly offered
itself, when she had hoped j at most to
steal an hour away, with a, frightful fuss
to pay for it afterwards. And "Lola"
could not possibly know that she had
several hours to spare. It was most in
Poor/ little Eye's. cheeks grew. pinker
and pinker .with vexation, and nobody
who had seen her fuming at the barred
window would have dreamt of the pretty
dimples which hid themselves for hap
pier hours.'. She. poked the cushions with
her sunshade, and even pushed them
viciously with, the pointed toe of a small
white shoe. She changed her place from
right to left, she sighed, and frowned re
proachfully at a softly tinted rug which
hung like a curtain over the door. Final
ly, when It was ten minutes .past four,
she could stand .the_ suspense no longer,
but sprang up, and as no bell was visible,
determined' to go bravely in search of a
servant, and demand* that madame should
be reminded of"her guest's existence: She
pulled aslde*the rug which hid the door
way, preparing-to - run down the other
side, Whehto her surprise she was con
fronted by a closed-door. .
It must have: been shut with precau
tion to make no.*noise, for she had not
heard a sound, and had supposed that
the door, behind' the curtain remained
wide open. , She tried it impatiently, but
it would not yield,- and for the first time^
a chill suspicion .that something was
wrongvery 'wrpng-^-crept shiverlngly
through .her .veins. -/ . - .
Suddenly Eve was afraldj though even
now she scarcely-knew of what.' There
was some .mistake ', yes, of coursei it could
only be "a mistake. it.could not be pos
sible that s,he had been deliberately locked
into the room. She tried the door several
times,.then beattttpbn it loudly, and more
loudly, until hier. little white suede -gloves
protested against.'her violence /by splitting
across the back. /%/ /',-/:.
Still, nobody'/came nobody .answered.
There was/riot a sound/in/ the house."' ..
. Eve^s hearjt 'was' beating' heavily. .She'
could heir/Hhe pounding pf the blood in/
her ears," arid.Tthe throbbing of?
: the veins
in.her temp^iiws^e h)gr he^d ah^, Wa
Lola a treacherous friend -to/Dick, after
all? Did shi/love hhh hejtjHjlf,: a hd had,
she hlddeh/^erce,"J!salousy utid'er/pretended
kindness^ like: thptigrYssh**me of wftom
one sbmetwpsSeesCd in /bboksT-Z 'H^td/she.
set a trap for t%e girl whom Diqk/ l0.ved,
and wasv she
i. t
"V /
mJ !**&>**{
S _ * - -- * ,
merit, .'telling
come?-' "' " "/-'?- Jj':
- Eve begah/tpj^rbe horribly frightened.
Everythihg-^seenwd so niuch more - secret
and mysterious/fiti.- the east thfinf irr/the.'
newer. contttrjes'ithat,'she. knew. --Ariythiijg
might b^i^^if^
pressed/hfr^tieirihlirig. body/against th'e
dobr"and' called "DickDtcfc--IjU!" at
the top off her gjrJLish -voice. * '
No answer- caihe. save a hollow echo, of
her own voice *rai$ering like,a,sad little
ghost through e npty rooms.. , _ _ ,
i , - ~ '
* tB PCTIV6.
'witht -him'the atlthis-vwould'
very/irio -
ht iglr l riot
. - * '- ,V*' ,
.'- " -"-- - '- - '-'-
.. * i., ,**- 5* sv*i
r ? I5vf%r*5*'C
The girl's knees shook under her, so
that she could scarcely stand, but again
and again she uttered her desolate cry.
Again and again it was echoed, wifh no
other following sound, except that the air
seemed to the girl to be full of mysteri
ous rustlings She looked this w?-.y and
that, half expecting to see a door in the
wall open, and a jealous, tiger-woman
spring out to stop her cries.
Once when E\ e Markham had been a
very little girl, a cruel nurse had locked
her into a dark wardrobe built into the
w&H of an old-fashioned house. There
she had been left for hours, until she had
nearly - died from fear - of the imaginary
horrors which her excited fancy had con
jured up. . Now she began to feel as she
had felttheri, as if she was stifling, dying.
She ran to the barred windows and
screamed for help until her voice broke,
and she burst into a passion of self-pity
ing: tears.
Out.there on the blue sea the Lily Maid '
lay at anchorthe pretty white yacht
which had been her home for weeks, and
Where she had been so happy with Dick.
There was her dear little stateroom wait
ing for her, and/ the kindly, middle-aged
maid who had been, with her ever since
she left school. Soon her dinner dress
would be laid out and her bath would be
got ready soothing warm water, scented
with eaude Cologne, to rest her after the
long, tiring day of sightseeing. Would
she ever go on board the dear Lily
Maid again? Would she ever see any of
the people she loved, and who cared for
her? Oh, where was Dick? How could
he/ how could he let such a horrible
thing happen to a poor child like her?
But, of course, it was not Dick's fault.
Perhaps it was all a trick from beginning
to end, and he was not even in Tangier.
Yet why/she asked herself desperately,
should anyone in the world wish to st al
her away from her father even if they
could have found out enough to make up
such a story as this which had trapped
her? She thought of many things, and
decided it was possible that she had been
kidnapped for. a ransom, as it might have
got abroad that her. father was a million
aire. It seemed-too dreadful, too strange
to be true, for, although one read of such
affairs in the east or in far southern
countries, they always happened to other
peoplethe kind of other people one never
knew but only read of in the newspapers.
She remembered how she had been
warned to destroy the letter, and would
have given much if she had disregarded
the warning, because if she had dropped
the crumpled ball of .paper in the hotel,
it would - be eomparatively easy for her
father'to trace her when lie returned from
the : - long drive and fo!und that she had
mysteriously disappeared. Suddenly she
choked- with "the fear that her father,
might fancy she:had .run away to join
Dick Knight. Oh, if he thought that he
would riot look :for. her at all in the town
he -might neyer: find her. The Lily Maid
might - saitc
behind albne in:
mercy of cruel people/ who had tricked
and: imprisoned: her here. She began to
hope .now, that she had been kidnapped
with ransom M-ah object, for then word
e kin would
she valuable'1asset.
-/ Tjijs ^4dear
-stopb-e:'d?,cryi.m^-And:''loqked at her watch'.
It w4s * half-p.as,t f)?e . Sir Peter and the
others, had' expected to finish their drive
aridrbe/back.at the,.hotel by six. In half
an^ourf nior'they/would know that slje
.was gone." .' Then-hut who could tell what
would happen then?
X J *
w *
and she
thi terrible place e
, thb y woul no dare to'mur-
xb*oiUife-'uhtii 'sne' was redeemed
As the girl asked herself this question
disconsolately she heard a sound at the
door. It was being unlocked. She sprang
city hall with a column and esplanade,
the column to commemorate the exploits
of the early settlers and builders of the
city before and as late as 1580, when the
town began to put on metropolitan airs.
But these are only, half of Mr. Buffing
ton's plans which are drawn with a view
not only to beautifying but-also to re
claiming, In a. commercial way, a section
of the.city fast falling Into, abandon and
decay.- - ' \'-
The need having been felt for years of a.
large hall or auditorium and. opera-house
centrally' located, and accessible by all
street cars, he says that no city in the
United States, if not the wor}d, has a
more suitable location for such a pur-
be.d sentt
to her
up,-her heart thumping, her eyes on the
* * * *
The drive occupied a rather longer time
than Lord Waveriey had told Sir Peter
Markham it would take, and it was nearer
seven- than six when their white.-awinged
carriage drew up as close ..to the hotel
as such vehicles could go. It was really
Lady Drayton's fault th^t they were so
late, for there was a quaint little inn
hidden away among the hills, where it was
amusing to stop for coffee or sherbet in
the afternoon, and she had been anxious
to show it to Sir Peter. Waveriey had
frowned at the proposal: and touched his
sister's foot disapprovingly, saying aloud
that it was too bad to leave Miss Mark
ham so long alone. But Lady Drayton
had been sure that Eve would not mind,
and as the scenery was charming Sir
Peter found the excursion an anodyne for
his private worries. Therefore they had
gone to the inn, and had drunk sherbet in
a. garden looking out over a marvelous
view and when they arrived again at
the hotel in Tangier Lady Drayton was
planning to be particularly sweet with a
view to disarming. Eve.
The air, which'had been burned'up by
the sun in the blazing May afternoon,
was exquisitely cool now, and they ex
pected to find Eve in the garden. Not
seeing her there Lady Drayton peeped
through one of the long French windows
of the sitting room. Lord Waveriey was
standing under a tree close behind, wait
ing with an expectant face, and his sis
ter smiled at him over her shoulder.
"No fair maiden here," she proclaimed.
"Can it be that she has been sleeping all
this time? I'll go and see."
She went through the sitting room to
the bed room, where the green straw
blinds were still down, making the room
so dim that Lady Drayton liad to go quite
close to the mosquito netting draped bed
before she Was sure that rio slim white
figure lay under the misty curtain. "Oh,
the child must be in the garden, after ajl,'
she thought/and stopped for a re-touch
ing of pink and white from tiny chamois
bags which she kept /in her pocket. Thus
rejuvenated she sailed out to rejoin the
men, who would, she supposed/by this
time have found the missing girl and be
ready to start for the yacht.
But Sir Peter and Waveriey stood to
gether, with an air of waiting. "Well,
Where's/Eve?" inquired Eve's father.
When Lady Drayton announced that the
girl was not indoors Sir'Peter began to
look serious. "I shall be extremely
vexed if she has gone down into the town
alone," he said. "She ought to have known
"I wish you had let me stay," remarked
Waveriey. "When she had had her rest
out I should have been, oh the sporto go
about with her." "
Sir Peter did not answer. He was al
ori his way to.the door of the hotel,
irritation showing even in the square-set
of his broad shoulders. He strode along
a'wide hall until he came to the bureaus,
and inquired of the "manager whom he
found there, what he could tell about the
movements of the young lady who had
stopped behind.
The man, who was French, appeared
surprised. Madamojselle h#d not been
seen. It was supposed that. she was in
the rooms which monsieur had taken for
the day. Servants were hastily sum
moned, but no/ one had any information
to give, until at last one of the men who
had waited upon the, party at lunch, was
able^tosay that hV thought he had seen
the young lady walking in the garden soon
after the carriage had driven away, but
he knew nothing of her after that.
Sir Pter was not yet really alarmed,
that Eve
: =
pose than the center blocks, bounded by
Washington, Hennepin, Nicollet and Sec
ond street. This triangular block Is to
Minneapolis what the famous '"fiat iron"
is to New York city.
The new auditorium which Mr. Buffing
ton has in mind, would be 155x200 feet.
It would be oval in form and would seat
5,000 people. The dimensions of the
opera-house would be 80x130 feet, with a
seating capacity of 1,800. Four broad
streets would afford ample exits and en
trances, two sides being for street car*,
one for carriages and one for the stage.
The idea of erecting such a building at
this point is not entirely new, but in
view of the other proposed improvements
it is of peculiar interest at this time.
but he was angry with his daughter. He
and Waveriey started immediately to walk
down to the town, and the girl's father
grumbled about, the inconsiderateness of
young persons who did not care whether
people's dinners" were spoilt or not. The
idea in hisniind was that the girl had
gone on a little private shopping expedi
tion among the bazaars, and had been
unable to tear herself away. Of course
she must be there/ since in all Tangier
there was rip other place which would
tempt a young English girl to wander
about alone.
But the two men went from shop to
shop, and nowhere were they rewarded by,
the sight of a slender little figure in while
with a big gauzy hat for a halo. At last
when they had come to an end of Tan
gier's attractions they began to ask ques
tions but the shopkeepers, who remem
bered the beautiful blonde young lady
from the morning, were certain that she
had riot passed this way since then. Now,
at last. Sir. Peter began, to be anxious.
and Waveriey looked pale and miserable.
He had not realized until now how wholly
he was wrapped, up in Eve Markham.
They were on their way to apply to the
police, and Waveriey had suggested a visit
to the English consul, whom he knew
very well, when the bell dancer, Sidi Mah
rez, suddenly appeared like a dark shad
ow, stealing out of a dim, narrow street
like a crack between two rows of little
shops and houses.
At sight of him Waveriey stopped, and
beckoning from his shop door a mer
chant who could act as interpreter, he
requested him to ask- the old man If he
had lately seen the young English lady for
whom he had danced in. the morning.
Sidi Mahrez listened solemnly, his old
eyes blinking then.gabbled rapidly to the
interpreter for a moment.
"He says," the merchant translated,
"that he met the young lady early in the
afternoon walking toward the quay with
an Englishman, who was also young. They
were walking quickly as if they were in
haste, and talking together with great
eagerness." /
"Tell him to describe the man," said
Sir Peter, brusquely.
The shopkeeper put the question, but
the bell dancer shook his head. The lady
was so, beautiful that he had not looked
long at - = her companion. He knew only
that, he was a young Englishman. And
this Sidi Mahrez sa}d with perfect grav
ity, looking sti*aight into Sir Peter's face.
Dick Qlves His Word.
Never had Dick Knight been in such a
cul-de-sac of difAcuity. He took the
paper which the man Brown had brought
to hirn and sat with his stylographic pen
hoverjng, ready to write out an answer
to Sir Peter Markham's telegram. He
knew that it was necessary to answer at
once he knew that' some one was wait
ing to take that answer back to shore.
But-rwhat to say?
He could not even be certain that the
message had really come froth Sir Peter.
The wholething might be a trick, yet it
would be'.well in wiring to Tangier to take
it for granted that Eve had actually disap
peared, and try to put a clue into her ^'5^
father's hands. If he did attempt to do ^j'-Jl
this, however, and Eve should suffer ia"^
consequence of his disregard of the warn- "^
ing, he could never forgive himself. Ha ^
felt physically ill with doubt and anxiety ^
as at last he wrote: "She is certainty
not here: Suspect plot, and-that abe has
been kidnapped in Tangier." This mes
sage he finally sent off, and once mere
was left alone with the woman," closely1
veiled again now, and ominously calm, afl
if she knew (and wished to assure hiat

xml | txt