Santa Fe new Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1898-1951, 1899-09-13

his cry, had rushed into the studio, and
for the first and last time had laid hands
upon hlIn in anger, Selling him by the
shoulders and throwing him violently
across the room, so that he struck his head
against the easel with a blow that stunned
him.
He recalled his awakening sensations.
how he had found his father hanging over
his bed, with a white, scared face, wiring
ing his hands and crying: Il have killed
him! have killed my boy!"
Poor old governor! I'm afraid he was
a bit off his head" murmured Jack as he
wondered over these old memories. Il
wonder what he did with that picture?"
Then AMI a memory of a gliMpse
through a half opened door as be lay in
bed sick and dazed from the blow. His
father had the picture on the easel and
had painted quickly over it.
Jack rose and strobe over to a pile of
old sketches that lay against the wall.
One of these he selected without hesita-
ton, and taking his palette knife scraped
carefully.
There was a picture below the rough
landscape.
Stimulated by this discovery, Jack went
eagerly to work, and in the course of a
few hours he removed the upper painting
entirely.
"By Millais!" he gasped as the familiar
initial of the master appeared In the cor.
ner.
He gazed long and lovingly at the face.
He knew by its likeness to himself that
khio ~ hio ,,,ofhav <h;c Ioo,ksf,1 xpoyn.
an.
Hastily wrapping up the picture, he car.
ried it off to Mr.. Broadbean to seek his
advice as to the completion of its cleaning.
Mr.. Broadbean was In his shop. He
greeted Jack with a friendly nod.
II want you to look at a picture for
me, Mr.. Broadbean.'
"Chuck 1t upl' replied Mr.. Broadbean
affably.
Jack cut the string and threw back the
paper.
cts the missing Millais!" calculated
Mr.. Broadbean, starting back.
Excuse me" replied Jack politely; "it
is a portrait of my mother. Are you sure
1t is a Millais?"
"Why, I've been on the lookout for that
picture these 30 years. So has every pic
ture dealer in England" answered Mr..
Broadbean. "And you say it is your
mothers portraitp Then who was your
father?"
civilian Chatteris, landscape painter"
Mr.. B%roadbean raised his glasses with q
shaking hand. He looked at the picture,
then at Jack.
ga wonderful likeness!" he murmured.
"You say that your father was William
Chatteris, the landscape painter" he add
ed aloud.
eyes"
sis your mother still alive?"
"She died when I was a baby"
care you certain that this is her por.
traitP"
"Quite."
Mr.. Broadbean leaned his face in his
hands for some seconds; then he spoke.
"See here, Mr.. Chatteris," he said, II
do not wish to pry into any of your fam
lily affairs, but I will tell you the history
Of this portrait. 1t was painted 80 years
ago by Millais. The lady is the Duchess
of Wessex and Is still'--
"Alivep" gasped Jack.
eyes, still alive. The Duke Of Wessex,
II ia said, was an exceedingly eccentric
and jealous man, and the marriage wal
al unhappy one After a violent quarrel
he disappeared, together with his infant
son and this portrait Of his wife. The pc.
lice have had the case In hand for years,
and every picture dealer in the world has
been told to look out for the missing Mil
lais, as 1t is called in the profession. If
that lady is your mother, she will proba-