The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1913-10-20
CONTINUED from Page 81

the tropic night the faint, mellow
thr0b of the wooden drum timing a
barbaric chant far across the water
all were conducive to an access of
friendship, of affection and trust, that
might sweep away the last barriers Of
reserve. He struck a match on the
corsair's cannon. lit cigarette, and
with an appearance of some indecision
took few whiffs before he spoke.
1T is enough for you to know that
am ghost" he said oddly. Mort
means dead, and the fancy pleased me
TO take it for my name Before died
j was a person Of some Importance; of
sufficient importance, in fact-were my
existence here ever to be knownAfor
the news OF II to shake the world
Broughton, ask no promises, no
oaths. | simply tell you that my life,
my happiness. all that is dearest and
most precious to me. hang on your dis
erection. Easter issues are at stake
than you can dream of, and today
there are hundreds on my track. A
chance remark of yours, an unguarded
word the most innocent of condolences
and these. bloodhounds might seize
clew that would destroy me- Brough-
ton. rely on you to guard my secret"
II shall guard it, sir
"And you appreciate. even in this
half told way, its supreme, its vital I'M.
portance?"
II do, sir"
Then let us 20 back
In silence they walked up the path
to the broad veranda Of the house
the house that had taken three years
to build. whose massive walls were
tlmbered with whole trees a low, red
tiled, Spanish structure, in appearance
half fort and half monastery, with a
clustered court where a fountain play
ed. 1t had taken the North Star IA
dozen voyages to furnish it with a
splendor almost incredible, considering
the remoteneSs of the island and how
recently It's only inhabitants had been
crabs and seamews Noble pictures,
Venetian carvings and old brocades,
Flemish tapestry, exquisite furniture
still showing the faded gild Of medic
val italy nothing, so 1t seemed to
Matt, could vie in taste and luxury, in
grandeur delicately modernized. soft
ened and restrained this coral
palace that sheltered Mort in exile.
But of all the beautiful objects with
in its walls, none could compare with
its mistress, that radiant, girlish Mi
rovna, who shared John Morris for
tunes and engrossed his entire heart,
AS fair as he was dark with crisp
golden hair more red than yellow. with
captivating blue eyes and a mouth all
wantonness and dainty impudence, she
could hardly have been more than
twenty when Matt first remembered
her in Guadalcanaar. Who she was
or what she had been-actress, dancer
or exalted lady, Pole, Russian. Alba
Man or Magyar-all was mystery she
shared with her somber husband. Matt
knew nothing save that she was one
Of the most adorable Of women Her
caressing and pretty friendship meant
much to him, and he repaid 1t with
the profound regard Of man that had
no other woman in his life
But all that was over now. to melt
forever in the swirl Of receding years
He was probably seeing that familiar
room for the last time and those dear
er faces Of his friends Mats heart
was very full and he faltered under
Mirovna's questioning gaze.
II cannot persuade him." said Mort
with affected lightness, STOPPING to
kiss his wife's hand. the captain
abandonS us
There WAS no reproach in Mirovnas
face. rather concern and regret.