The St. Mary banner. (Franklin, Parish of St. Mary, La.) 1889-1931, 1914-09-05


| 1t had taken him week to discover
where she lived. His lodgings were
on the other side of the Seine. After
reaching them he gave crisp orders to
the driver, who set his machine off at
top speed. The man in the Bavarian
hat entered his room and lighted the
gas. The room was bare and cheaply
furnished. He took off his coat but
retained his hat, pulling it down still
farther over his eyes. His face was al
ways in shadow. A round chin, two
full red lips. scantily covered by a
seen. He began to walk the floor i'm
patiently, stopping and listening when
ever he heard a sound. He waited
less than an hour for the return of the
car. 1t brought two men. They were
well-dressed, smoothly-shaven, with
keen eyes and intelligent faces. Their
host, who had never seen either Of his
guests before, carelessly waved his
hand toward the table where there
were two chairs. He himself took his
stand by the window and looked out
as he talked. In another hour the room
was dark and the street deserted.
In the meantime the prima donna
gave a sigh of relief. She was home.
1t was nearly two o'clock. She would
sleep till noon, and Saturday and Sun
day would be hers. She went up the
stairs instead Of taking the lift, and
though the hall was dark, she knew
her way. She unlocked the door or
the apartment and entered, swinging
the door behind her. AS the act was
mechanical, her thoughts being other
wise engaged, she did not notice that
the lock failed to click. The. ferrule
Of cane had prevented that.
She flung her wraps on the divan
and put the roses in an empty bowl.
The door opened softly, without noise.
Next, she stopped before the mirror
over the mantel, touched her hair
lightly, detached the tiara of emeralds
and became as inanimate as
marble. She saw another face. She
never knew how long the interval OF
silence was. She turned slowly.
Yes, it is II" said the man.
Instantly she turned again to the
mantel and picked up a magazine re-
volver. She leveled it at him.
'Leave this room, or will shoot"
Courtlandt advanced toward her
slowly. do So" he said Il should
much prefer a bullet to that look"
Il am in earnest" She was very
white. but her hand was steady.
He continued to advance. There
followed crash. The smell of burn
ing powder filled the room. The Bur
mese gong changed shrilly and whirled
wildly. Courtlandt felt his hair stir in
terror.
You must hate me indeed" he said
quietly. as the sense of terror died
away. He folded his arms. TRY
again; there ought to be half dozen
bullets left. No? Then, good-by!"
He left the apartment without another
word or look, and as the door closed
behind him there was kind of finality
in the clicking of the latch.
The revolver clattered to the floor
and the woman who had fired it leaned
heavily against the mantel. covering
her eyes.
Mora, Moral" cried startled voice
from bedroom adjoining. What has
happened? Mon Dieu, what is it?" A
pretty, sleepy-eyed young woman, in
night-dress, rushed into the room
She flung her arms about the singer.
Mora, my dear, my dear!"
He forced his way in. thought
to brighten him. 1t went of accident.
ally. Oh. Celeste, Celeste, might
have killed him!"
The other drew her head down on
her shoulder, and listened. She could
hear voices in the lower hall, shout
OF warning. patter of steps; then the
hall door slammed. After that, silence,
save for the faint mellowing vibrations
of the Burmese gong.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)