Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1918-04-19
to whom you gave a certain small book

10 who'd you gave u cefIdl1 Smdll DOOk
of which you know"
II, madamef"
"You."
"But what book? have gwen MOTH
ing, madame. I swear It."
"Then you admitted some one to
this room?"
"No one, madame. except" She
hesitated.
"Well?"
'There came this afternoon the men
who clean madame's windows. No one
else, madame"
She put her hand to her cheek, and
looked furtively to see If her fingers
were stained with blood. The countess,
muttering, fell to furious pacing of
the room. So that was 1t, of course.
The girl was telling the truth. She
vas too stupid to lie. Then the COM
~thing-had known that she would be
away, had known of the window clean
ers, had known of the safe, and her
possession of the code.
She dismissed the girl and put away
the riding crop, then she smoothed the
disorder Of her hair and dress. The
court physician, calling a half hour
later, found her reading on a chaise
Tongue in her boudoir, looking pale and
handsome, and spent what he consid-
cred a pleasant half hour with her.
Then at last he was gone, and she
went about her heavy-hearted prepara-
lions for the night. From a corner of
her wardrobe she drew a long peas
ants cape, such a cape as Minna
might wear. Over her head, instead
of a hat, she threw a gray veil. A care
less disguise, but all that was neces-
sary. The sentries through and about
the palace were not unaccustomed TO
from it's gloom to light, and perhaps to
love.
Before she left, she looked About
the room. What assurance had she
that this very excursion was not a
trap, and that In her absence the vault
would not be looted again? 1t con
tanned now something infinitely val
liable and incriminating-the roll of
film. She glanced about, and seeing a
silver vase Of roses, hurriedly emptied
the water out, wrapped the film In
oiled paper, and dropped it down
among the stems.
The Street of the Wise Virgins was
not e the palace. Even by walking
briskly she was in danger of being
late. The wind kept her back, too.
Then, at last, the Street Of the Wise
Virgins and the fiacre, standing at the
curb, with a driver wrapped in rugs
against the cold of the February night,
and his hat pulled down over his eyes
The countess stopped beside him.
"You are expecting a passenger"
"Yes, madame"
With her hand on the door, the
countess realized that the fiacre was
already occupied. AS she peered into
It's darkenedv interior, the shadow re-
solved itself into a cloaked and masked
figure. She shrank back.
"Enter, madame" said a voice.
The figure appalled, her. It was not
sufficient to know that behind the
horrifying mask which covered the en-
tire face and head, there was q hui
man figure, human pulses that beat,
human eyes that appraised her. She
hesitated.
Quickly" said the voice.
She got in, shrinking into a corner
Of the carriage. Her lips were dry,
the roaring of terror was in her ears.
The door closed.
Then commenced a drive of which
afterward the countess dared not
think. The figure neither moved nor
spoke. Inside the carriage reigned the
most complete silence. Then the car
riage stopped, and at last the shrouded
figure moved and spoke.
II regret, countess, that my orders
are to blindfold you"
She submitted ungracefully, while
he bound q black cloth over her eyes.
He drew it very close and knotted it
behind. In the act his fingers touched
her face, and she felt them cold and
clammy. The contact sickened her.
"Your hand, madame"
She was led out of the carriage, and
across soft earth, a devious course
again, as though they avoided small
obstacles. Once her foot touched
something low and hard, like marble.
Again, in the darkness, they stumbled
over a mound. She knew where she
was, then-in a graveyard. But
which? There were many about the
city.
An open SPACE, the opening of a
gate or door that squeaked softly, q
flight of steps that led downward, and
a breath of musty, cold air, damp and
cellarlike.
At last, still in unbroken silence, she
knew that they had entered a large
space. Their footsteps no longer
echoed and reechoed. Her guide
walked more slowly, and at last paus