Los Angeles herald., 1906-04-08
I II 2

Daphne had many time pointed out your por-
trait to lre-and l thought all discovered
But | bafled you'll cluded you-how adroitly
you know Matteos house was my asylum. But
Matteo had not gone to London after all, and
discovered me in the very act of changing my
attire He wanted to know how ! had gained
access to the house, and why | masquerad-
ing in two different DISCUSSES. For a minute |
hesitated | thought of Draining him on the spot
1t would have been rare sport. But | ptied hlm
he had known me from childhood-and con
cocted some story that seemed to satisfy him at
the time Would now that ! had slain him there
and then, 1t would have saved me world OF
trouble He discovered it all!'
| was still tearing away fiercely at my bonds,
confident that if the artist continued his rawlings
for few more minutes my hands would be free.
The friction of the silk on the jagged edge OF
the pillar produced a sharp rustling noise, but
the artist noticed neither the sound nor my mo-
tions, 50 taken was he with the story OF his own
cleverness. He seemed to be Grating more for
his own satisfaction than for my information.
"Yes. he discovered it all, continued he. 81
had thought myself safe, for had | not efectual-
ly disposed of the body? Sleeping it in cheni-
Gals and wrapping it in asbestos, | had in the
dead of night in the secrecy of my cellar, COM
mitted it to the flames. TIo! no! A true clas-
steal funeral that, became the subject, for was
he not the pagan Caesar of my picture? Vulcan,
arise! Vasari claims thine aid All! what a
glorious night that was as I moved round the
funeral pyre. pouring on oil and chanting an
ode from Horace! What splendid picture it
would have made-'A Pagan Funeral! How !
regretted that | had not prepared my canvas for
the event. But it too late to think OF that
Then, one dark night, on some lonely common,
scattered the ashes to the four winds. Not
trace of my victim left, And yet, after all my
care and caution, that old dotard of Matteo
had discovered my secret discovered it by ac-
cdent. I was at Paris exhibiting my picture
to admiring thousands. Among those who
| thronged to gaze at my Caesar was a Colonel
Langworthy. but Just returned from India.
That face is very like my friend Willard, who
disappeared 50 strangely last Christmas he
cried I turned to the speaker, and whom should
! see at his elbow but old AIattco, with his great
ewes staring AT me. He had heard this chance
remark: he at once OWNED my secret J was
so nfuriated that next day, when the Colonel
was coming to take a second view OF my picture,
| ordered him to be thrust out-a mad act, tor
! il got into the newspapers, and confirmed Mat
teo's suspicious Thenceforward ] had no peace,
for no brbe would stop his mouth. He was
forever reproachng me. | had made him an ac-
cessory 10 a crime he said. His conscience trou-
bled him for having in a manner aided me to es-
cape on that Christmas morning ne could not
sleep at night Poor fool He could 60 no more
TO mass with such sin on his soul He fol
lowed me to Rivoli. He must-hc must confess
all to the priest Curse him! he did! That
was why Father Ignatius refused me the mass
that morning, and Daphne present, too, to wit,
ness nv humiliation 1t was that that caused
her to look with a different face on me, and to
turn from my love with scorn. | marvel now
that She is still living when ] recall my fury at
her refusal She was nearer to death then
nearer to her lost George-than she had been
since her bridal morning. My old nurse said
was mad that day; perhaps was. No matter
Let Daphne refuse me, hate me as she will, she
cannot recall her dead hero to life. There was
consolation in that thought. That night, as
was making preparations to depart from Rlvoll
I came across his grey cloak. l always carried it
with me- 1t was joy to gaze on 1t, to think
how I had won it. 1t was sign of my tri
umph-it was a proof that he would trouble me
no more with his rivalry. ] put it on, for
loved to act the scene over again, and sailed out
in it, I remember now with what glee climbed
crags and cliffs, singing and dancing along. Aha!
who is this in monkish garb that rises up be
fore me in the moonlight? Old Matteo, as
live! Matted Matteo the betrayer! He sees
me he turns, he fees HIa! hal what feeble
steps! hear him How he pants for breath
With one fierce leap | am on him. Ho! no! my
hand is on his old throat. How he struggles as
force him to the edge of the cliff! How he
clings to me! NIercyl mercy! he screams. Mer
, CIV? To him who had robbed me of my fair mod
ell? He could not tell any more tales after l haC
finished with him. From the cliff
The artist stopped abruptly, and assumed I