The Detroit times. [volume] (Detroit, Mich.) 1903-1920, 1913-10-02
CHAPTER I.
AZ the STAGE Door.

CORTLAND sat perfectly straight;
his ample shoulders did not touch
the back OF his chair: and his arms
were folded tightly across his chest.
TIE characteristic of his attitude
WAS tensensss. The nostrils were
wsli defined. a. I'm one who sets the
upper Jaw hard up on the neither.
His brown eyss-their gaze directed
t0Wasd tho stage whence came the
VOTE Of the prima donna~-epito-
'mdsed the tension, expressed the
weols - In . word.
Nast now the voice was patheti-
cally subdued. yet reached every
past Of the auditorium. kindling the
ear With it, angularly mellowins
swsstnes& To courtlandt II re-
sembled, a. no other sound. the note
OF q mufRed Burmese gong. struck In
the dim incensed cavern Of Q temple.
A Burmese gong: briefly and magi-
cally the stage. the audience, the
amazing CLEAN and sointillation Of
the Opera. faded. He heard only the
voice and saw only the purple shad-
owe In the temple at Rangoon. the
oriental sunset splashing the golden
dome, the wavering lights Of the
dripping candles, the dead flowers.
tho knseling devotees. the yellow
robed priest. the tatters OF gold-leaf,
fresh and old, upon the rows OF
placid grinning Buddhas. The Wis
Ion was Of short duration. The sigh.
which had been % long repressed.
escaped; his shoulders sank q little.
and the angle Of his chin became less
resolute: but only for moment.
Tension gave place to an ironical
grimness. The brows relaxed. but
the lips became firmer. He listened.
with this new expression unchang-
ing. TO the high note that scared
above all others The French horns
blared and the timpani crashed. The
curtain sank slowly. The audience
rustled. stood up. sought Its wraps.
and pressed toward the exits and the
grand staircase. II was all over.
Courtlandt took his leave in lei
sure. Here and there he saw ia
miliar faces. but these. after the
finding glance, he studiously avoid
ed. He wanted to be alone. For
while the music was still echoing
In his ears, In a subtone. his brain
unfortunately for the going forward
Of things. this mental state was d.
vided into SO many battalions. led
by SO many generals, indirectly and
indecisively, nowhere. This plan
had no beginning. that one had no
ending. and the other neither begin
ming or ending. Outside. he lighted
cigar, not because at that mo-
ment he possessed a craving for nico-
tine. but because. like all inveter-
ate smokers. he believed that tObac-
co conduced to clarity Of thought.
And mayhap 1t did. At least. there
presently followed a mental calm
that expelled all this confusion. The
goal waved and waned as he gazed
down the great avenue with its pre-
else rows of lamps. Far away he
could discern the outline Of the
brooding Louvre.
There was not the least hope In
his goal this night He realised this
clearly. now that he was face to face
with actualities. 1t required more
than the chaotic impulses that had
brought him back from the jungles
Of the Orient He must reason out
q plan that should be like a straight
line, the shortest distance between
two given points How then should
he pass the night, since none OF his
schemes could possibly be put into
operation? Return to his hotel
and smoke himself headachy?
Try to become interested In a
novel; Go to bed, to turn and
roll till dawn? A wild desire seized
him to make q night Of Maxim's,
the cabarets; riot and wine. Who
cared? But the desire burnt itself
out between two puffs Of his cigar.
Ten years ago, perhaps. this particu-
lar brand Of amusement might have
urged him successfully. But not
now; he was done with tomfool
nights. Indeed, his designations had
been whimsical rather than banal;
and retrospection never aroused q
furtive sense Of shame.