The Richmond palladium and sun-telegram. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1907-1939, 1916-02-14
/" FOE" , 15 S,s STORY 2e2 Of
A Thrilling Serial of Devotion and Mystery

Crawley ceased in his work, and for
moment held his destructive hand
as he surveyed the holocaust OF some
of the finest work he or any of his
contemporaries had accomplished.
Hutton" said he moodily, "oblige
me by saying nothing whatever about
this. You understand"
Certainly, sir: but surely
"Not a word, Hutton. | have my
own reasons-good reasons. Get me
chisel."
Yes, SIR"
The man obeyed in dazed, half
comprehending fashion. His master
frightened him by his strange man.
ner. He sincerely hoped that the great
Noel Crawley had not gone mad. He
had heard that genius was akin to
madness and ell the world knew that
Crawley was genius.
"You can go now, Hutton" said the
artist when the man had brought the
chisel. 81 shall be ready for lunch in
about five minutes"
Hutton left reluctantly. He did not
at all like the look of things. and the
thought of all that valuable work be-
ing burnt was very irritating.
AS for Crawley, he wasted no fur
Their time. He did not allow himself to
think. The thing had to ne done, and
the sooner 1t was done the better. He
took the canvas of "Circe" from Its
frame and slit it into strips and threw
them on the fire. He destroyed the
Sleeping Venus" in the same way,
and, indeed, every picture-oil, study
or sketch-of Zoe. When he had COM
pleted his work he went into his din
ing room Hutton was awaiting him.
He thought his master looked very
white and Ill, and suggested some
brandy. Crawley gulped down large
glass.
"circe" 10 to be Shown
In Public Exhibition.
"You need not trouble to wait, Hut
tom he said YEARLY. Just bring me
my letters and go clear up the mess
have made in the studio"
Hutton returned with the unopened
letters and retired. Crawley drew a
deep. shuddering breath of relief.
THANK Heaven that's done!" he
said to himself.
And he took up postcard from the
pile of letters Hutton had laid beside
him.
II was an advertisement He glanced
at II automatically; then startled
exclamation burst from his lips.
Heaven" he gasped, II must be
mad! / had fol2otten!'
He read the printed matter on the
back of the postcard. u ran as fol
lows:
"Leyerease Gallery.
Bond ytroet, w
"Messrs. Leveridge and Materley
beg to announce that Mr.. Noel Craw-
ley's famous picture Gree is now on
exhibition at the gallery.
Admission Is. Your patronage is
respectfully invited
And Brooke and his wife might be
in Bond street at that very moment
The printed words danced before
the artists eyes. Something seemed
TO snap in his brain All power of CO.
herent thought and action left him
II was fate. There was no fighting
against fate. or a surety Noel Craw
ley's nerves had all gone to pieces
or what use had been he work OF
the last hour---the work OF destruction
the holocaust of his drawings and
paintings? Here, advertised freely
open to anyone with the inclination
and a shilling to spare, was "Circe,
the portrait Of Zoe, of Mrs Godfrey
Brooke
Thousands Of people would be bound
to see the picture. IL was on that as
sumption. of course that Messrs. Lev
eredge and Maberley had paid him
thousand pounds for the picture
And among the thousands of people
who would visit the Leveredge Gal
lery during the next two or three
months it was inevitable that there
would be Godfrey Brooke.