Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1917-11-20
CHAPTER xv--continued.

TRY and bear the thread Of 1t all In
your mind. For two acts you have
been asked to focus your attention
upon the increasing brutality Of the
marquis. Remember that, won't you'll"
Not likely to forget It," John re-
piled. How well they all actl"
There was a quarter of an hours
interval before the curtain rose again.
Rumors concerning the last act had
been floating about for weeks, and the
house was almost tense with excite
ment as the curtain went up. The
scene was the country chateau Of the
Marquis de Guy" who brought a
noisy crowd Of companions from Paris
without any warning. His wife showed
signs Of dismay at his coming. He
had brought with him women whom
she declined to receive.
The great scene between her hus-
band and herself took place in the
square hall of the chateau, on the first
floor. Louise reaffirms her intention
Of leaving the house Her husband
laughs at her. Her position Is hope
less.
What can you doT' he mocks.
She shrugs her shoulders and passes
into her room. The marquis sinks upon
a settee, and presently is Joined by
one Of the ladies who have Travelled
with him from Paris. He talks to her
Of the pictures upon the wall. She is
impatient to meet the Marquise de
Guy.
The marquis knocks at his wife's
door. Her voice Is heard clearly, after
a moments pause.
''In q few minutes !" she replies.
The marquis resumes his filtration.
His companion becomes impatient
the marquis has pledged his word that
she should be received by his wife. An
ancient enmity against the MarQuise
de Guy prompts her to insist.
The marquis shrugs his shoulders
and knocks more loudly than ever at
his wife's door. She comes out dressed
for travel and Is met by Faraday, who
suddenly appears.
You asked me what I could do"
she says, pointing to her lover. "YOu
see now !"
There was a moments breathless 81
lence through the house. The scene in
itself was a little beyond anything that
the audience had expected. Sophy,
who had been leaning over the edge of
the box, turned around In no little
anxiety. She heard the door slam.
John had disappeared!
He left the theater with only his hat
in his hand. turning up his coat by in
stinct as he passed through the driving
rain. All his senses seemed tingling
with some nameless horror. The bril-
lance of the language, the subtlety of
the situation, seemed like some evil
trail drawn across that one horrible
climax. 1t was Louise who had come
from that room and pointed to Fara-
dayi
He reached his rooms-he scarcely
knew how-and walked upstairs. There
he threw off some of his dripping gar
ments, opened the window wide, and
stood there.
he looked out over the Thames, and
there was red flare before his eyes.
Stephen vas right, he told himself.
There was nothing but evil to be found
here, nothing but bitter disappoint-
nent, nothing but the pain which deep
ems into anguish. Better to remain
Ike Stephen, unlOving and unloved, TO
draw nearer to the mountains, to find
Joy in the crops and the rain and the
sunshine, to listen stonily to the cry
of human beings as if to some voice
from an unknown world.
He leaned a little further from the
window, and gazed into the court at a
dizzy depth below. He had cut himself
adrift from the peace which might have
been his. He would never know again
the joys Of his earlier life. 1t was for
this that he had fought so many bat
ties, chung SO tightly to one ideal-for
Louise, who could show herself to any,
one who Cared to pay his shilling or
his half-guinea, glorying In her dis
honor; worse than glorying in it-find-
Ing some subtle humor in the little ges-
ture with which she had pointed. I'M
ashamed, to her lover.
John bent a little lower from the
window. A sudden dizziness seemed
to have come over him. Then he was
forced to turn around. His door had
been quickly opened and shut. II was
Sophy who was crossing toward him.
the rain streaming from her ruined
opera cloak.
"John!" she cried. "Oh, Johnw
She led him back to his chair and
kneit by his side. She held his hands
tightly.
You mustn't feel like this" she
sob5ed; you mustn't, John, really I
You don't understand. It's all a play.
Louise wouldn't really do anything like
thatw
He shivered. Nevertheless. he
clutched her hands and drew her closer
to him.
DO, please, listen to me-" she
begged. 'It's all over. Louise IS her
self again-Loulse Maurel. The Mar
0uise de Guy never lived except unon
those boards. 1t is simply wonderful
creation. Any one of the great az
tresses would play that part and glory
In 1.-THE very greatest, John. Oh. it's |
so hard to make you understand Lon
Use is waiting for you. They are all
waiting at the supper party. You are
expected. You must go and tell her
that you think /. was wonderfulP
He rose slowly to his feet and caught |
at her hands roughly.
"Supposing I won't goY" he whis. |
pered hoarSely. "Supposing-I keen
you here lnStead. Sophy?"
She swayed for a moment. Some |
thing flashed into her face and passed
away. She was paler than ever.
'Dasr john" she begged, pull your |
SELF togetherl Remember that Louise |
Is waiting for you. It's Louise you
want-not me. Nothing that she has |
done tonight should make her any the |