Ottumwa tri-weekly courier., 1908-05-05
BY WILLIAM LIE ouEux

and, tagged out by the journey, re-
tired early.
He tried to sleep, but could not. The
noise and clatter of the cafe below, the
weird strains of the gypsy music, the
rattle OF the cabs over the cobbles. all
combined to prevent slumber
And, over all, was the vivid recol-
lection Of that rather handsome girl
who had called herself Lorena, and
who had declared that the reason of
Statham's peril lay behind the door
which he always kept so carefully
secured.
The hours passed slowly. He
thought far more Of Maud Petrovitch
and of what Lorena had hold him,
than of the business he had to trans
act on the morrow. He was there,
in the city where Doctor Petrovitch
had been worshipped almost as a
demi-god, where the people cheered
Justify as he drove out, and where he
was called "The Servian Patriot"
Where was the statesman now? What
was the actual truth of that sudden
disappearance?
Why had not Maud written? Surely
! she might at least have trusted him
with her secret!
The noise below had died away, and
he knew that 1t must be two o'clock
in the morning, the hour when the
cafe closed. Presently there came a
rap at his door, and the night porter
handed him telegram. He tore 1t
open mechanically, expecting it to be
in cipher from old Sam, but instead
saw the signature MAX
Scanning 1t eagerly, he held his
breath. The news it contained stag
gered him. 1t stated that his sister
Marion had been discharged from Cum
nington's, and her whereabouts were
unknown.
Have seen Statham, but cannot dis
"cover where your sister has gone.
Can you suggest any friend she may
''have gone to visit? What shall l
do? Am distracted. Wire imme-
"diately."
Marion left Cunnington's! Dis
charged, the telegram said. Was it
possible, he thought, that old Sam
would allow her discharge. He was
certain he would not. He was his
sisters friend, as he was his own.
Max's telegram added further to the
burden of mystery upon him. What
could 1t all mean?
Marion has evidently left Cunning
toms and disappeared! He tried to
think to whom she wuold go in her dis
tress. There was her Aunt Anne at
Wimborne, her cousin Lucy who had
married the bank manager at Here
ford, and there was her old school
fellow Mary Craven who had only re-
Gently married Pelham, the manager
of an insurance company in Moorgate
Street.
Those three addresses he wrote on
a telegraph form, urging Max to make
inquiry and report progress. This he
despatched, and again threw himself
down, full of dark forebodings.
If Marion had really been dis
charged, she was in some disgrace.
What could it possibly be? That it
was something which she dared not
face was proved by the fact that she
had not confided in Max. She knew
Maud's place Of concealment, without
a doubt; therefore, what more natural
than she should have joined her?
The whole affair was a complete
enigma, rendered the more tantalfs.
| ing by the distance which now separa-
ted him from London.
Next morning he rose, took his
coffee, and went out along the broad
central boulevard, gay and lively in
the sunlight, thronged by well-dressed
ladies and smart officers in uniforms
on the Russian model-as bright and
pleasant scene as can be witnessed
anywhere outside Paris. Up the hill,
past the royal palace, he went. In
the royal garden, separated from the
roadway by high iron railings, the
band of the Guards were playing, and
over the palace hoated the royal stan
dard, showing that his Majesty was in
| residence
Adjoining the palace was large
| square castellated building, painted
white, and into this he turned, saluted
by the gendarmes on duty. Ascending
a broad flight of steps, he passed
| through the swing doors, presented his
card, and was shown into the large
antechamber of the President Of the
Council Of Ministers, the strongest
man in Servia. M. Nicholas Pashitch
The long windows commanded a