Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1909-04-17
CHAPTER /.
The Voice of the Foo.

Out of the unromantic night, out Of
the somber blurring January fog,
came voice lifted in song, a soprano,
rich, full and round, young yet ma
ttured, sweet and mysterious as a
night-bird's, haunting and elusive as
the murmur of the sea in shell; a
Tilt from La File de Madame Angot,
a light opera long since forgotten in
New York. Hillard, genuinely as
tonished, lowered his pipe and listen
ed. To sit dreaming by an open win
dow, even in this unlovely first month
Of the year, in that grim unhandsome
city which boasts of its riches and
still accepts with snug content It's
rows upon rows Of ugly architecture,
to sit dreaming then, of red-tiled roofs,
Of cloud caressed hills, of terraced
vineyards, of expresses in their dark
aloofness, Is not out of the natural
order Of things; but that into this idle
and pleasant dream there should en-
ter so divine a voice, living, feeling,
pulsing, this was not ordinary at all.
And billiard was glad that the room
was in darkness. He rose eagerly and
peered out But he saw no one.
Across the street the arc lamp burned
dimly, like an opal in the matriy,
while of architectural outlines not one
remained, the fog having kindly oh.
liberated them.
The voice rose and sank and scared
again, drawing nearer and nearer. 1t
was joyous and unrestrained, and
there was youth in it, the touch of
spring and the, breath of flowers. The
music was Lecocq's, that is to say,
French; but the tongue was Of a
country which Hillard knew to be the
garden of the world. Presently he OBJ
served shadow emerge from the yell
low mist, to come within the circle of
light, which, faint as it was, limned in
against the nothingness beyond the
form of woman. She walked direct
ly under his window.
AS the invisible comes suddenly ont
of the future to assume distinct pro-
portions which either make or mar us,
so did this unknown cantatrice come
out of the fog that night and enter in
to Hillard's life, to readjust its ambi-
tons, to divert It's aimless course, 20
give impetus to it, and directness
which hitherto it had not known.
"Ah!"
He leaned over the sill at a peril
Gus angle, the bright coal of his pipe
splitting comet-wise to the area-way be-
low. He was only subconsoious of
having spoken; but this syllable WAS
sufficient to spoil the enchant r,enr.
The voice ceased abruptly, with an
odd break. The singer looked up
Possibly her establishment surpassed
even that of her audience. For few
minutes she had forgotten that she
was in New York, where romance may
be found only in the book shops; she
had forgotten that 1t was night, A
damp and chill forlorn night; she had
forgotten the pain in her heart; there
had been only a great and Irresistible
longing to sing.
Though she raised her face, he could
distinguish no feature, for the light
was behind However, he was a man
who made up his mind quickly. Brn-
nette or blond, beautiful or otherwise,
1t needed but moment to find out.
Even as this decision was made he
was in the upper hall, taking the
stairs two at bound. He ran out
into the night, bareheaded. Up the
street he saw flying shadow. Plainly
she had anticipated his impulse and
the curiosity behind 1t. Even as he
gave chase the shadow melted in the
fog, as ice melts in running waters, az
flame dissolves in sunshine. She was
gone. He cupped his ear with his
hand; in vain, there came no sound
as of pattering feet; there was moth
ing but fog and silence.
well, If this doesn't beat the
Dutch!" he murmured.
He laughed disappointedly. 1t did
not matter that he was three and thir-
ty; he still retained youth enough to
feel chagrined at such a trivial de-
feat. Here had been something like
a. genuine adventure, and it had slip
ped like water through his clumsy
fingers.
Deuce take the fog! But for that
I'd have caught her.
But reason promptly asked him
what he should have done had he
caught the singer. Yes, supposing ne
had, what excuse would he have had
to offer? Denial on her part would
have been simple, and righteous in
dignation at being accosted on the
street simpler STILL He had not seen
of this fact. Thus, she would have
had all the weapons for defense and
he not one for attack But though
reason argued well, 1t did not dislodge
his longing. He would have been per-
fectly happy to have braved her in
dignation for single glance at her
face. He walked back, lighting his
pipe. Who could she be? What pc
culiar whimsical freak had sent her
singing past his window at one
o'clock Of the morning? A grand op-
era singer, returning home from a
late supper? But he dismissed this
opinion even as he advanced it. He
knew something about grand opera
singers. They attend late suppers, it
is true but they ride home in luxuri-
GUS carriages and never risk their
golden voices in this careless if ro-
mantle fashion. And in New York no.
body took the trouble to serenade any,
body else, unless paid in advance and
with police permit AS for
being comic opera star, he refused
to admit the possibility; and he rele-
gated this well-satisfied constellation
to the darks of limbo. He had heard
.