Montgomery County sentinel. [volume] (Rockville, Md.) 1855-1974, 1933-07-20
The Garden of
Delight
BY COSMO HAMILTON
@. by Mcclure Newspaper Syndicate.
WNU Service

g. by Mcclure Newspaper Syndicate.
| = WNU Service
THERE was to be fete that night
i In the open-air restaurant Of the
Russian grand duke. A screen of can
vas was drawn across the gate.
But that meant nothing to Ivan
Storogev, the successful gigolo, who,
at three o'clock In the afternoon, had
crawled from his comfortable bed. A
year ago he had been waiter, q
loyal member of the commonwealth Of
Russian aristocrats under the leader
ship of the dead cxar's cousin in that
place. He made his way through the
house, saw Princess Trina Petrovna
hanging paper lanterns on the shabby
pergola and marched quickly to her
side.
"You!" she said lightly. "How nice
of you to come. None of us hangs
these bedraggled lanterns with such
touch"
He said thickly, "Why don't you an
swer my lettersT He made no at
tempt to hang the lantern which she
gave him.
Trina continued to put the candles
in their sockets with a steady hand.
IF you're not going to help me-" she
said, you're badly in the way"
He said, Il can't and won't stand the
way in which you're treating me. Do
you hear? I regard myself as en-
| OaOnd RI ho m rrio6 t0 Won oorp
enough money on which we can keep
a respectable apartment and I've
saved enough to lift you from this
place. Why do you hold OFF,"
Trina assumed an anger that she did
not feel. "You bore me, count" she
said. "You know the way to the gate"
Ivan stamped his foot, and the two
red spots of rage were even redder
now. He cried out, HAS the degra-
dalton of this cursed place dulled your
moral sense? Why not say that you're
in love with some one else? You think
that I've lost caste by dancing at the
hotel. l have. But so have you. I've
seen you looking at Shakovskaya, that
peasant with his magic violin. If
you and he have any idea of going to
our church on the hill, tell you this
in cold blood here and now: there'1l
be murder in this Garden of Delight
and suicide as well. AS Gods my
Judge, that's true"
He turned on his heels and left.
With the disturbing vibrations of his
presence removed, the restaurant, with
its charming trees, resumed it's cheer
fulness. General Igorivitch, the head
cook, and Prince Vladimir Dionisie-
witch, the xylophonist of the orches-
ira, were singing to themselves as they
arranged the little tables.
Paul Shakoyskaya, peasant and vio-
linist, was tying pieces of colored pa
per to the pergola. He was simple
and huge, broad of shoulder, with a
magnificent torso.
If Ivan had seen Irina's eyes as
Shakovskaya passed. murder and sui
eide would Immediately have turned
the Garden of Delight into a Garden
of Despair. She loved him. But to
Shakovskaya she was the grand dukes
daughter-as far removed as though
she was star.
During the fete that night Sha-
kovskaya watched his chief with affec-
ton and difference. Turning to Trina,
he said, "a master Of men, princess.
One whom it is a joy and an honor
to serve" And because he was happy
at the fullness of the garden he took
her hand and raised it to his lips.
Excited, too, that the hitherto al
most empty place was now filed with
laughter and talk, Trina bent forward
so that her curls touched one of the
high cheek-bones of the peasants face
She was startled at the effect it had
on him.
ooh, my God" he said beneath his
| breath, withdrew his hand, clicked his
heels, seized his violin and stuck it be-
meath his chin. And, when, hardly
able to pull herself together, Trina
took her place in front Of the plat
form to sing, there was a tremor of
SO great joy in her voice that 1t
hushed the conversation and brought
| forth bursts or applause.
And at the back Of the garden, in
the shadow near the gate, stood Ivan
Storogev with madness in his brain and
a revolver in his >pocket, all according
to fate Irina's heart was to
be his target, not that of Shakovskaya.
He had made up his mind to hear
Trina sing once more, and as the last
echo of what was to her swan song
died among the trees to send her out
of the possibility Of belonging to an
other man and then follow after her.
The orchestra went softly into the
opening bars of lie Bon Temps Wen
dra" which Shakovskaya had set to
haunting melody. And as the loyal
peasant drew his bow across his
strings he caught the CLEAN of Ivan's
weapon and saw with horror and
amazement that it was not aimed at
him but at Irina-Irina who was
standing, wholly unaware of impend-