The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-06-09
THIS BEGINS THE STORY

THIS BEGINS THE STORY
 Peter Nicho1aevitch, Russian
 Grand Duke, exiled by revolution,
 comes to this county as Peter
 Nichols, and goes to work on the
 estate of Jonathan K. Mcclure.
 Mcclure is being blacknai1ed by
 Hawk Kennedy, alias Jim Coast,
 a man with whom Peter had
 worked as waiter on the ship that
 brought them over. Coast tells
 Peter of a murder Mcclure had
 committed in the West. dc-
 Guire's story made Coast the
 murdered. Peter believes Me
 Guire. The victim was a man
 named Cameron, father of Beth
 Cameron, with whom Peter has
 fallen in love Peter resolves to
 circumvent Coast and protect his
 employer by playing a game a
 little deeper than that Of the
 bIackmailer.
 AND HERE IT CONTINUES
 Of course he now nad the advan- tage of knowing the whole of Me Guire's side of the story. while Ken nedy did not believe the old man would have dared to tell. And to hold these cards successfully it would be necessary to continue in Kennedys mind the belief that Peter did not share McGuire's confidence. It would also be necessary for Peter to cast in his lot, apparently, with Kennedy against Mcclure. It was a dirty bus mess at best, but he meant to carry it through if he could, and get the signed agreement from the blackmail- CT.
 Peter seemed to remember an old wallet that Jim Coast had always car rfed- He had seen it after Coast had taken slips of paper from it and showed them to Peter - newspaper clippings, notes from inamoratas and the like-but of course, never the pa per now in question. And if he had carried it all these years, where was 1t now? In the vault of some bank or trust company, probably, and this would make Peters task difficult, if not impossible.
 Peter got up and paced the floor, thinking deeply of all these things in their relation to Beth. And then at last he went out into the night. his footsteps impel1ed toward the village. After all, the thoughts uppermost in his mind were of Beth herself. What ever the cost of his pride, he would have to make his peace with her. lie knew that now. Why otherwise did his restless feet lead him out into the pasture back of the little postofhce toward the rear of Mrs. Bergen's house? Yet there he found himself presently, smoking his corncob pipe for comfort. and staring at the soH- tary light in TiIlie Bergen's parlor, which proclaimed its occupant Mrs. Bergen's house stood at little dis tance from its nearest neighbor. and Peter stole slowly through the or chard at the rear of the window It was then that he heard the music for the first time, the 'harmonium'' wall ing softly,while sweet and clear above the accompaniment (worked out pain stalkingly but lovingly by the girl her self) came Beths voice singing the "Elegie."
 Peter came closer until he was just at the edge of the shadow outside the window. He knew that her back would be turned to him and so he peered around the shutter at her unconscious back. She sang the song through un- til the end and then after pause sang 1t again. Peter had no ear now for the phrasing, for raults in tech nique, or inaccuracies in enunciation. What he heard was the soul of the singer calling. All that he had taught her in the hours in the cabin was in her voice-and something more that she had learned elsewhere Her voice was richer deeper, a child's voice no longer. and he knew that she was singing of his mad mo nent in the woods,which had brought the end of all things that had mat tered in her life. It was no girl who sang now, but a woman who had learned the meaning of the song, the plaint of birds once joyous, of wood land flowers once gay-at the mem ory of a spring that was no more. IT fnld wOuld that song well some day when she learned what it meant. She would never sing it again as she had sung it tonight. All the dross that Peter had worn in the world was stripped from him in that moment. all that was petty and ignoble in his heart driven forth, and he stood with bowed head, in shame for what he had been, and in gentleness for this dear creature whose idols he had cast down.
 At the end of the second verse her fingers slipped from the keys and fell to her sides while she bowed her head and sat for a moment immova ble. And then her shoulders moved slight lv and a tiny smothered sound came from her throat SudoenIy her head bent and she fell forward on her arms upon the muted keys.
 Noiselessly he passed over the low windowsill and before she even knew that he was there, fell to his knees beside her.
 Beth he whispered Don't child-don't!
 She straightened, startled and in credulous at the sight of him. and tried to move away. but he caught one of her hands and with bent head gently laid his lips upon 1t.
 Don't Beth-please. I can't bear ro sec x,o1I cry-"
 I'm not crying she stammered helpIessly' while she winked back her tears. live just-just got the-the -stomachache-"
 She tried to laugh-fa1nng dismalry in sob.
 "Oh. Beth-don't-" he whisper ed.
 IT can't help tiff live got a-a pain" she evaded him
 But I can," he murmured. Its in your heart Beth. I'm sorry floor ev~ erything Forgive me"
 There's nothing to forgive"
 'Pleasei"
 There's nothing to forgive" she repeated duly. But she had con-