Cut Bank pioneer press. [volume] (Cut Bank, Mont.) 1909-current, 1914-09-11
CHAPTER ~.
Captive or Runaway.

Captive or Runaway.
At the age of twenty-six Donald Alb
bolt had become a prosperous and dis
tinguished painter in water colors.
His work was individual, and at the
same time 1t was delicate and charm
ing. One saw his Italian landscapes
as through a flmy gauze; the almond
blossoms of Sicily, the rose-laden walls
Of Florence, the vineyards of Chianti,
the poppy-glowing Campagna out of
Rome. His Italian lakes had brought
him fame. He knew very little OF the
grind and hunger that attended the
careers of his whilom associates. His
father had left him some valuable pat
ents-wash-tubs, carpet-cleaners and
other ~labor-saving devices-an6 the
royalties from these were quite suf-
hcient to keep him pleasantly housed.
His earnings (not inconsiderable,
for tourists found much to admire in
both the pictures and the artist he
spent in gratifying his mild extrava-
gances. So there were no lines in his
handsome, boyish, beardless face; and
his eyes were unusually clear and
happy. Perhaps once or twice, since
his majority, he had returned to Amer
lea to prove that he was not an ex-
patriate, though certainly he was one,
the only tie existing between him and
his native land being the bankers who
regularly honored his drafts. And who
shall condemn him for preferring Italy
to the desolate center of New York
state, where good servants and good
weather are as rare as are fiawless
emeralds?
Half after three, on Wednesday aft
ernoon, Abbott stared modify at the
weather-tarnished group by Dalou in
the Luxembourg gardens-the Tri-
umph Of Silenus. His gaze was de.
ceptive, for the rollicking old bibulous
scoundrel had not stirred his critical
sense nor impressed the delicate films
of thought. He was looking through
the bronze, into the far-away things
He had arrived early that morning, al
the way from Como, to find a thunder
bolt driven in at his feet. Across hi'
knees f1uttered an open newspaper
the Paris edition of the New Yorl
Herald. All that kept it from. BLOWN,
away was the tense If sprawling fin
gers Of his right hand; his left hum
Imply at his side.
1t was not possible. Such things di
not happen these unromantic days t.
musical celebrities. She had writer
that on Monday night she would sin
in La Boheme and on Wednesday
Faust. She had since vanished, val
ished Is completely as though she ha
taken wings and flown away. 1t wa
unreal. She had left the apartmer
in the Avenue de Wagram on Satu,
day afternoon, and nothing had bee
seen or heard of her since. At til
last moment they had had to find
substitute for her part in the Puccil
opera The maid testified that b,
mistress had gone on an errand
mercy. She had not mentioned wher
but she had said that she would retul
In time to dress for dinner, whit
proved conclusively that somethil
out Of the ordinary had befallen hel
The automobile that had carried h
away had not been her own, and t
chauffeur was unknown. None of t
directors at the opera had been no
fed Of any change In the SINCE,
plans. She had disappeared, and tn
we're deeply concerned. Singers we
generally ~erratic, full of sudden ind
positions, u~naccountable whims;
the Signorina da Toscana was one
q thousand. She never broke an
gagement. If she was Ill she said
at once; she lever left them in aol
until the last moment. Indecision v
not one of her characteristics. S
was as reliable as the sun. II the
rectors did not hear definitely fir
her by noon today, they would have
ind another Marguerite.
The police began to move, and Il
stirred up some curious bits of I'M
nation. A mar had tried to bride
singers chauffeur, while she was 81
ing at the Austrian ambassadors.
chauffeur was sble to describe
stranger with some accuracy. II
came the b~ewildering episode In
apartment; the pistolshot. the I'll
of the man, the astonished concie
to whom the beautiful American VIC
offer no explanations. The man "
tailed with the description given