The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1885-10-28

AT Milan he was told the artist had
sought the Turin exhibition, He took
the next train for Turin, but failed to
find the missing heir in the Medieval
castle or the Kermess fair. The hotel
secretary was absolutely sure the object
of inquiry had returned TO Venice.
Launching letters and kilograms, like a
shower of arrows, in all directions, John
turned his face toward the Adriatic A
fresh perplexity awaited him. Venice
gained, he lost trace of Roger Hale alto.
gether. What had become of him2
Piqued, he sought banker, consul, hotels,
ana lodgings in vain. A lady at the
table d'hote stated that party of artists
had gone to Titian's country ten days
before, and Roger Hale was of the num-
ber The lady changed countenance
slightly when she learned that the Ameri-
can had sped after the artists.
81 am almost sure that was one of the
names" she unused, 'or was was it
SMITH"
The artists cheered John. Roger was
to join them later, and If the lawyer re-
mained in their midst or hung about
Venice, Hale was sure to turn up. The
chief authority recalled, all in sketch
ing flight of steps that Hale had sought
Florence to copy head of Titian's in
Ritti gallery. John journeyed to Flor
ence, discovered canvas on which a
woman's face was outlined, 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
certain person at Rome for more accurate
information. John waited, fumed with
impatience, fast verging to evaporation.
The artist, ever within reach, perpetu-
ally eluded him. How easy it had
seemed to find himl John began to fear
Roger Hale was myth-a will o'-the-
wisp.
Leghorn swarmed with life; groups of
girls gathered about the fountains; the
air was redolent of hot oil frizzling on
the domestic altar of supper in narrow
streets. A funeral procession passed
along a quay, the candles of the peni-
tents flaring black prison-van, guard
ed by royal carbineers, wearing cooked
hats, crept behind the four-in hand of a
Greek banker The sun set behind the
tranquil Mediterranean in fiery disk,
dyeing 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 Spezian gulf. All about him the
people laughed and talked iu babel of
tongues, A Sicilian princess, with mar
row, Spanish face, enveloped in opales-
cent draperies like the sea at sunset
drank coffee at the next table. A pi-
quaint beauty, clad in maize colored
satin, claimed the homage of bevy of
cavaliers. One by one little boats.
wreathed with swaying lanterns, became
detached from shore and fitted over
the water to cluster about a yacht,
gemmed with lights in an arch of
green fire. A Venetian fete was
transpiring, with song and revelry.
Suddenly word, an exclamation, cry
wrought swift change to the fairy spec
tacle. The beauty held u telegram in
her rigid hand, the princess had started
to her feet-the very waters paused TO
look and listen. The cholera had reached
stricken Spezia. The eyes of adjacent
towns turned to the boundary of noun
tain IN dread of the awful moment when
the pestience should wing its noiseless
and fatal way onward to strike them as
well. Panic ensued. The lights went
out, and the multitude surged inland to
ioin the fugitives of Spezia at RIsa in a
tumult of frenZied haste. The princess
journeyed, enthroned on her own lug.
gage in the baggage van, rather than be
left behind.
At this auspicious moment John
learned that Roger Hale was certainly at
Naples.
"Let him stay there, them" he cried,
wrathfully.