Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1881-11-30
H NECKLACE.
BY A DETECTIVE.

One night the beauty and grace
OF the city filed almost to sutfocatlon
the theater. 1t was the occasion OF a
beneft-the recipient an actress OF be-
wildeTing beauty and acknowledged
talent. For weeks she had filled the
vast theater with an enthusiastic pop
ulace, who seemed eager to make her
fete an ovation. Again and again did
The curtain rise to their plaudits, and
the weird gaslight ofthe ~proscenium
fash on costly jewels and a form ra.
diant with beauty She had appeared
that night as Blanca" and the ltal-
ian bride of"Fazio" had received from
her an Interpretation grand in its
thrilling power, splendid in delinea-
ton. Passion, jealousy, Tenderness
had in turn swayed and moved an u
dience who accepted from the artist a
~portraiture OF emotions, vivid and
fifelike as reality. Catching the inspi-
ration which moved her, their feelings
we're her feelings, and when the cur
sain descended upon the tragic mimic
death scene, a shout Of horror, cries Of
distress, showed how perfectly death.
was counterfeited in the convulsive
struggle, the paliogcheek, the glazing
eye, the breaking heart.
Even as the words Of her dying
speech were fading from her lips, she
half raised up again, looking eagerly
into the audience, while her face grew
I, .astly and a cruel tremor shook her
frame. Then the white arms glis
tened for a single moment above her
head. The last words, MY heart
has broken" died on her lips, and
the senses fed as the lifeless form
sunk back on the floor.
There was a rush from the audience
= cry Of despair from the stage, and
the curtain rose rapidly. Before
them, white and CHASTITY, lay the
woman who an hour before, instinct
with life and beauty, had reigned
regally over all their hearts.
1t was long before the breath came
back to the body, warmth to the pal
lid cheeks and light to the eyes; then
with a cry she sprang to her feet.
Save her, save her, l entTeatI'
Save whOm?"
THE child yonder-she with the
coral necklace"
Even as she spoke a man leading a
child passed rapidly into the street.
In a few minutes | was sent for to
visit the actress at the hotel.
1t would be impossible to describe
the interview. The lady was mad
with terror and distress. She walked
the room like some wild animal bereft
other young, and her broken utterance
her sorrow and tears-made up a
scene rarely witnessed in a lifetime
But | learned that the child, whose
presence in the theater had so nearly
proven fatal to her life, wash be- daugh
ter, stolen from her years before. She
told, too, that her husband was an
English nOblemqn, who. in dying, had
~bequeathed to mis- child vast estates.
In case Of her decease (the childs),
they would pass TO a distant relative.
He had scarcely been dead a week
when the child disappeared. She had
searched the continent for her and
found no trace. Exhausted in means,
she had resumed the profession which
her husband had taken her from when
he married her. Coming 10 America,
she had never lost sight of the one
object to which she had dedicated her
life.
In the closing scene of Blanca her
eye caught the glitter Of curiously-
wrought, a Observation-Disclosures, coral
necklace on a child seated in the audi.
ence. Such a one the child had worn.
Time and distance had no power to
drive it fiom her memory. Even in
the crowded theater she knew it.
There might have been others like it,
worn, too, by children, not her own;
but still she knew, with an intuition
that could not deceive, that the wearer
was. her child.
1t was all the clew | had; but to
one accustomed to work out results
from threads more slender it was
enough.
1t is useless to relate the means en-
ployed. but before the day dawned the
child had been restored TO its mother.
1t had been stolen away in the interest
Of the relative, and but for the acct
deutal meeting ia tho theater would
never have been c again.
1t was the last night Of the lady's
professional career. Her child re-
covered, and with indisputable proofs
Of its identity, she fastened back to
regain its inheritance.