The semi-weekly miner. [volume] (Butte, Mont.) 1882-1886, 1885-07-22

sheets OF lightning Illuminated the DIV
groves, where the branches writhed hk
souls in pain. In the blotting shadow Q
the gardens, and above the tum lit OF tn
tempest, brooded a great fear.
II could not stand it another day" es
I claimed John. With the rising sun came n
lease. The Frenchman gathered a rose TO
his b%uttonhole: the Englishman strappe.
his bag. In the tents those IONS Of toll, tn
laborers, who wait for hire in the world
market-places. prepared to move on. Poo
Gennaro, Of Naples, and Beppo, from tn
Lucca hills, once more gathered up thel
bundles, while PiedmOntese AmadeO ha'
laid down the burthen forever, on tn
threshold.
Fertile Piau di Latte, madea prisoner be
tween purple hills and blue sea. where
Life, like a dome Of mauy,colorea glass,
In the train the Ergiishman said to job
Leggat: 1.-THE sister OF charity will be give
the place of honor in the cemetery. Yes
the cadets wal a Illuminating case, @
course"
81 wonder if Roger Hale still lives?'
thought John.
HIN CLOSE PURSUIT.
Escaping from the land quarantine JOIN
Leggat hastened to Genoa, where he learnet
that Roger Hale was in Milan. At Milal
ne was told the artist had sought the Turn
Exhibition. He tool the next train To-
Turin, but failed to lind the missing heir II
the Medieval Castle or the kermess Far
The hotel secretary was absolutely sure thu
object of inquiry had returned to Venice
Launching letters and kilograms, like q
shower OF arrows, in all directions, John
turned his face towards the Adriatic. A
fresh perplexity awaited him. Venice
gained, he lost trace OF Roger Hale alto.
gether. What had become of him? Piqued,
he sought banker, consul. hotels and lodg
ings in vain. A lady at the table dhote
stated that a party OF artists had gone to
Titian's country ten days before, and Roger
Hale was of the number. The lady changed
countenance slightly whens she learned that
the American had sped after the artists.
81 am almost sure that was one OF the
names," she unused, ''or was it Smith,
The artists cheered John. Roger was to
join them later, and if the lawyer remained
in their midst or hung about Venice Hale
was sure to turn up. The chief authority
recalled, all in sketching a fight OF steps,
that Hale had sought Florence to copy a
a head of Tetian's in the Ritti Gallery.
John journeyed to Florence, discovered a
canvas, on which a woman's face was out-
lined, and learned that Roger Hale had left
for Leghorn some weeks before. At Leg
horn the artist was said to have gone to
Sardinia with an Italian. A merchant
promised to telegraph to a certain person
at Rome for more accurate information.
John waited, Tuning with jmipatience, fast
verging to exaspeeation. The artist, ever
within reach; perpetually eluded him. How
easy it had seemed to find him! John be-
gan to fear Roger Hale was a myth-a will
O'-the-wisp.
Leghorn swarmed with life; groups of
girls gathered about the fountains; the air
was redolent of hot air ~frizzling on the do
nestle altar OF supper in narrow streets.
A funeral procession passed along a quay,
the candles OF the penitents fiaring a black
prison van, guarded by royal carbincers,
wearing cooked hats, crept behind the four
finland team of a Greek banker. The sun
set beyond the tranquil Mediterranean in
a fiery disk, dying the waves crimson and
gold. John strolled about the gardens of
the shore, and sought one of the piers.
On the right the serrated peaks OF the Car
rara mountains sloped to the brink Of the
gulf. All about him the people
laughed and talked in a babel of tongues.
A Sicicilian princess, with narrow, Spanish
face, enveloped in opaescent draperies like
the sea at sunset, drank coffee at the next
table. A piquant beauty, clad in maize
satin, claimed the homage ola bevy
of cavaliers. One by one little boats,
wreathed with swaying lanterns. became
detached from shore and fitted over the
to cluster about a yacht, gemmed
with lights in an arch ofgreen fire. A vene-
fete was ~transpiring, with song and
r~evelry. Suddenly a word, an exclamation,
"a cry wrought swift change to the fairy
spectacle. The beauty held a telegram in
her rigid hand, the princess had started to
her feet-the very walters paused to look
and listen. The cholera had reached and
Spezia. The eyes ofadjacent towns
to the boundary OF mountain in
OF the awful moment when the pesti-
lence should wing it's noiseless and fatal
way onward to strike them as well. Pan
The lights went out, and the null
titude surged inland to join the fugitives of
Spezia at Risa in a tumult of frenzied haste.
The princess journeyed, enthroned on her
own luggage in the begger van, rather than
be left behind.
At this suspicious moment John learned
Roger Hale was certainly at Naples.
"Let him stay there, then" he cried,
wrathfully.
SAVED FROM THE MOB.
Roger Hale had an idea. When he had
an idea he invariably put it into execu-
tien. Was he not his W master? His
visit to Sardinia had been brief. and gain
ing Rome by Gvita-Vecchiag he was medi-
tating IA return when the idea dawned on
him. A few hours of leisure decided
him to return to his relatives in
America. He bought some postage
at a tobacconist's, which the
wrapped up in Il bit OF news
paper. Outside, in the shadow of a temple
wall, the artist removed the paper, and
consigned the stamps to his vest pocket.
"They will think I've died Of cholera
long ago. he unused in dutiful a~llusion to
his anxious sisters. His quick eye noted a
paragraph on the morsel of paper, in
which the Queen expressed sorrow for the
misfortunes OF Naples, the smiling Parthe-
seated on her Incompatible bay.
Il nave it!' exclaimed Roger Hale.
"The Siren Parthenope was there cast
ashore, and Neapolis was the city OF Cam
pania. built on the Sinus Crater" He
took the next train southwark. A votary
at the shrine OF beauty, absorbed in his
art, the elusive ideal OF perfection now
before him On rainbow wings towards
Vesuvian Gulf. He had done nothing
Parthenope should redeem his years Of
and live on canvass, a vision Of
combining the golden tones OF
with the redundant c~oloring of
Rubens and the charm OF Hans Makart or
He was called color mad by his
artists.
Roger Hale was a short and stout man.
with flowing beard, nose turning up at the
and a pair of hazel eyes, seeing everp |
thing their owner wished to disceg'of re- !
shaded by a felt, When the pres
lost all shaR6hi assumed tbss which had
'na,rs, was I" III hard usage, now serving as
q plIlow and again protecting the owners
head from sun and rain. He took his
chances as they came, and life was as glo-
rious to him as to Ernest Renan. Hence
the charm OF the Siren Parthenope, IA study
signifying light, warmth, IL goddess bathed
in a luminous atmosphere, with shadow OF
lick, palm and orange groves cast athwart
her draperies, and the peaks OF Vesuvius
and Monte St. Angelo in the background.
The vision intoxicated him as he passed by
the acient Vra Latina through the Cam
pagna Felice, and thence inward to Naples.
He pressed forward eagerly to the goal.
Modern competition did not dismay, but
oh! he must learn if ancient art had traced
on marble and fresco OF temple and bath
the image he sought. He gained the mu-
scum, Oblivious to outward event, going
and coming in the cool halls. enriched with
Pompeiian urn, candelabra. bronze, the