The Starkville news. (Starkville, Miss.) 1902-1960, 1903-07-24

life at stake in zissa play. Zis not ze
heart of re card, but ze womaR's
heart!"
Darling at me venomous look from
eyes that seemed to turn green like
cats. he lost himself in the crowd.
Well, to cut it short, one night the
old signor and the faithful Pietro
came to the theater for their Frances
ca, and she was gone. She was not
theirs any more. l heard afterward of
the awful row they raised. Pietro was
for everybody's blood, while the old
man sobbed and tore his hair, and
muttered vows of vengeance-but
they returned home alone.
1 thought I had been loved before
I met Francesca. Bah! One don't
know how deuced fiat claret is until
he sips champagne! Love once bios
somed to her was the breath of life; it
mixed with her blood, tingled in the
caress of her fingers, burned in the
touch of her lips.
1t was not many weeks after we
were established that l became aware
when down town / was being shad-
owed. Once 1 caught glimpse of
Pietro's menacing face as l suddenly
redoubled my tracks.
One afternoon Francesca and / were
returning from little expedition OF
our own. As the cab rounded the cor
ner to the entrance of our apartment
building, she joyously exclaimed: "Oh,
there is Pietro. I will tell him!"
But Pietro wasn't there when she
finished her sentence. He darted into
a nearby court, and was to be seen
no more Francesca was visibly an
noyed. That evening she pleaded with
me to remain at home, but / had
special engagement. AS l went out
/ cautioned the night porter to let no
one disturb her.
1 had previously ordered a carriage;
1t was waiting at the curb. I stepped
forward, and, STOPPING over, pulled
open the door. That instant pair OF
long, bony hands pushed through, the
aperture and clutched me by the
throat. With a strength that seemed
to be Herculean l was dragged inside,
bound hand and foot, and gagged.
"Maleditto!" exclaimed the one with
the fingers in a cultural snarl, and L
recognized the voice of the old signor.
The other was Pietro. The latterlslid
out. climbed to the box, and lashed
the horses into a gallop.
I tried to cry out, but with the gag
l was dumb. Fancy my state of
mind.
Finally we brought up before for
bidding-looking house in a narrow, de-
serted street, and I was lifted to the
curb. The horses were given their
heads. and as they wandered aimlessiy
away into the night l was roughly
seized, carried in through dark hall
way, down a narrow passage to a
squalid, dingy room, where | was de-
posted on the floor. Pietro locked the
door after us, then said something to
the signor in italian that made the old
man growl with fiendish approval. The
latter, turning to me with sardonlc
leer, muttered: 'Make happy ze mo-
ments; it ees few" Both went out
through another door, and heard the
bolt slide into place.
They were going to murder me, and
do it with diabolical inesse.
I was given the tortures of anticipa-
ton while they leisurely discussed the
method. Ny thoughts wouldn't come
cohesively. for my brain grew scggy
and obstinate and refused to compre-
hend.
All at once, as if struck with blow,
Francesca came into my head. Fran
hor af
in her dainty bed; her beautiful face
nestled softly against the pillow.