Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1894-06-28


and no one had the heart to refer to
him in the presence of the young dra-
matiSt 1t was cruel and mistaken
kindness, fol Cyrl was a slave TO the
siren and believed her slightest word.
He had determined TO write a Dlay
and appear in the leading role. and
by putting his whole heart and soul
and strength of brain. and will. and
talent into it, he hoped to touch her.
and 10 win from her ruby lips a hope
that in the future she would be his.
SO he had toiled early and late. and
as he wrote, the part he intended play
ing became so. familiar to him that
tonight, with the play finally COM
pleted, he knew that ne was letter
perfect and could 20 upon the boards
tomorrow if need be in his new role.
He stood before the freless CRATE.
with>a hectic flush burning upon his
cheeks, and a feyerish sparkle in his
eyes, and he felt neither cold nor hun
ger. There were fiecks of blood upon
his lips, but he knew it not.
My darling" he murmured. ten
derby, my beautiful darling! Am l
worthy of herr
And Satan laughed as he listened.
The night for which he longed so
eagerly, feverishly, came at last He
was to make his first appearance be-
fore the public in a real theater," and
he was in a nervous tremOr. Miss
VavasOr was to appear in a proScen-
ium box with several of her fashion
able friends, among them Lord Clar-
ence Montford. the English nobleman.
1.-The other one" He was Miss Vava-
s0rs favored sutton, and to pique him
she had been kind to Cyril Keith. He
was really titled nObleman. To win
a title, Miss VavasOr would have borne
any sorrow, descended to any humility.
To that one glittering aim her heart
was anchored; to become Lady Mont.
ford she would have sold her best
friend into bondage. She had lured
Cyril Keith on, with the hope of incit-
ing the nObleman to a proposal. She
had done her best. Will she succeed?
Tonight she was fair as a dream
woman, in her robe of snowy silk
trimmed with gold, and a white plush
Opera-cloak. Her beautiful hair was
sparkling with diamonds; she was the
lOveliest woman in the great theater
which was literally packed until there
was not even standing room. The
story of the young writer had gotten
abroad in some way, and public inter
est was excited, public curiosity
aroused. The play began and pro-
crossed. Cyril Keith proved a revela-
ton to even those who knew him best
He was grand. Even the critics, who
came to condemn, could not refrain
from admiration. The curtain was
about to rise upon the last act-the
act in which the young poet was to be
rewarded by the hand of the woman
he loved so madly. and for whose
sake he had toiled and striven. Just
before the curtain rose, a note was
handed to Cyril Keith. He tore it
open and read these words:
Dear Friend Cyril know you will
be pleased at my good fortune; we
have been good friends, have we not?
SO | make bold to tell you that tonight
[ have promised to become the wife of
Lord Clarence Montford. Only think
of it-Lady Montford! [ am elated, I
must tell some one, and so [ tell you.
Congratulate me. Your Friend
Maude"
Once, twice, three time the pale lips
read it over, the perspiratiOn standing
in drops upon his white brow, his
hands clinching the brutal letter until
he lost all power to feel. The call
to the stage sounded in his ears; the
audience must not be kept waiting.
Some one touched his arm.
Good heavens! man, you are illr' a
voice said, which sounded far off like
distant thunder. But he drew away
from his interlocutor and passed out
upon the stage.
Slowly and falteringly he went
through the part until he came to
where the hero tells the heroine of
his mighty love.
II would have laid my life down for
you" so ran the words of the play.
Just then his eyes met the flashing, tri-
umphant orbs of Miss Vavasor in the
stage box, and at her side the portly
form Of the English nobleman, Lord
Clarence Montford.
Slowly the great blue eyes of the
actor dilated; he caught his breath
with a gasp; reeled unsteadily toward
the box where she sat in all her glow
ing beauty gazing cruelty down upon
him, like Mephistopheles gloating over
a lost soul Then, with a faint moan
he fell-fell, and the blood streaming
over his white lips crimsoned the
stage.
When they lifted the golden head
life was quite extinct. Cyril Keith
had made his first and last appearance
in the play which was destined to
bring him fame and fortune, now that
he no longer needed it, and send his
name ringing down the aisles of time
in posthumous glory.
So many Of us become famous-after
we are dead!
When the news was brought to
Maude Vavasor-the future Lady
Montford-in her lace-draped box-the
announcement of the young mans
tragic death, her beautiful face paled
slightly. she bit her red lips nerv-
ously.
'How very sad-and-and shockingw
she exclaimed.
DEATH TO MOTHS.