The times-news. [volume] (Hendersonville, N.C.) 1927-current, 1937-01-25
prcIN HERE TODAY

Jian-born actress, faul L, Ming
!, Nortbumbra, becomes private CIT
! zen Paul Ferrope, and quickly ne
Cd. b.. has made a bad bargain.
U He tires Of the Countess al
Il Marco, Reggie Van Twyne' tne
!, American playboy, and the rest
\ of the gay crowd that follow HIN
at hi, villa on the Bay OF 81:
Francis. he takes the advice OF
hi, old tutor, DR.. Sonders, and
4 travels, buys boat, travels some
more, but always he is restless
always the shadow Of his lost
throse hovers over him. a' :,
/ Finally he and Ardath quarrel
4 about her friends. Paul takes
:, more and more to seeiusfon in his
boat. One day he suggests TO
4 Ardath they have a child. Paul,
she cries, ARE you insapeT
Then one night at villa party
Paul hears Reggie Van Twyne
asking Ardath to leave Paul for
him. She refuses, but Paul knows
the crisis has come. The next day
he packs his trim little sailing
ship, tells Ardsth he is going
hack to his home country. North
vnbra, TO get grip on himself;
asks her to wait for him. He has
| found freedom an elusive gift.
NOW co ON WITH THE STORY
CHAPTER TX
The harbor of Gailport is one
of the least attractive places on
all the coast OF Northumbra. The
land is low, without hill or head
land to break its monotonous
sweep. and the town has but one
export: coal. Its waterfront is
dreary with black, smudgy docks,
and its houses are grimy and
respondent, looking Sullenlv out
TO sea rs if they had long since
ceased TO expect from it anything
but the worst.
But as the SloOp Irene came
about the little iSlets that lay in
an offshOre cluster, six miles out
from the mouth of the harbor,
and swung in for the tall light
house. Paul thought he had never
seen Il fairer prospect. This was
his own land, at last-it was
home. These were his people: to |
90 about their streets, sit in their !
inns, chat with them casually. |
would be to touch the earth again |
and regain his lost strength. He |
was coming home.
He brought the sloou in along
side a dingy wharf, on which q
faded sign announced that yachts
men might purchase gasoline and |
supplies. A dejected-looking man
came out of a shed, looked down,
and nodded agreement to Pauls |
request for berth alongside. He |
took the mooring lines Paul fluno
him and made the little vessel
fast, The voyage was over.
For half an hour or more Paul
was busy furling sails and putting |
the Irene in ShipShape trim. Then.
finishing with the boat, he ducked
below, picked up hand mirror,
and looked thoughtfully at his |
face.
Whatever its imperfections |
might be-and Paul, looking at |
himself through sadly disillusioned
eyes, felt that they were numer-
Gus indeed-it had been one of |
the most famous faces in the
world. All over the globe, it had
appeared in newspapers and on
movie screens. so that the great
est dullard alive could hardly fail
to recognize it.
1t would never do to take that |
face ashore here ard expect it to
go unnoticed. Sooner or later,
someone would be certain to see
it and give tongue. Paul scratched
his ear, abscntly, and looked at
the one most distinguishing fea-
ture of his face-the jet black,
iaunty mustache which he had
worn ever since he came to man.
hood. Grinning ruefully, he got
out his shaving things. That mus
tache would have to be sacrificed.
When he came on deck, half an
hour later, the mustache had van
ished. A pair of amber-tinted
horn-rimmed spectacles were over
his eyes. These two changes did
not absolutely transform his APP
pearance, but they did Destroy
that easily recognizable quality
he had worn before. A close friend
might take a second glance and
know him without trouble; the
ordinary man in the street, look
ing at him, would not dream that
he was looking at the former
King Paul.
A customs launch chugged up.
A dapper little officer came
aboard to look at Pauls papers
and glance about the boat. If he
recognized the name, Paul Fer
rome, he gave no sign. In five min
utes he had gone. Paul was free
to go ashore.
He walked up the wharf and
turned into the main street of
the little coaling port. AS he did
so, old memories came streaming
back in a flood.
Gailport was on the edge of
the great Lazare coalfelds. To this
place, a little more than a year
ago, Paul had come on a tour of
He had come to re-
gion ravaged by long years of de-
region in which two
out of three adult males had been
work for so long that
hope had all but died in them; a
region whose gaunt coal tipples
were silent and lifeless, whose
ports were empty and whose cup
boards were bare.
Could he ever forget that tour?
1t had been the same in town af-
ter town; empty streets, with
l. Il A Il Il