Etext prepared by Project Gutenberg Distributed ProofreadersTHE MISCHIEFMAKERBYE PHILLIPS OPPENHEIMAUTHOR OF THE LIGHTED WAY THE TEMPTING OF TAVERNAKE HAVOC ETCWITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY HANSON BOOTH1913CONTENTSBOOK ONECHAPTER    I SYMPATHY AND SELFISHNESS   II AN INDISCREET LETTER  III A RUINED CAREER   IV A BUNCH OF VIOLETS    V A SENTIMENTAL EPISODE   VI AT THE CAFÉ LATHÉNÉE  VII COFFEE FOR THREE VIII IN PARIS   IX MADAME CHRISTOPHOR    X BETTER ACQUAINTANCE   XI THE TOYMAKER FROM LEIPZIG  XII AT THE RAT MORT XIII POLITICS AND PATRIOTISM  XIV THE MORNING AFTER   XV BEHIND CLOSED DOORS  XVI HAVE YOU EVER LOVED XVII KENDRICKS IS HOSTXVIII A MEETING OF SOCIALISTS  XIX AN OFFER   XX FALKENBERG ACTSBOOK TWOCHAPTER    I THE FLIGHT OF LADY ANNE   II TO OUR NEW SELVES  III WORK FOR JULIEN   IV A STARTLING DISCLOSURE    V THE FIRST ARTICLE   VI FALKENBERG FAILS  VII LADY ANNE DECLINES VIII A DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE   IX FOOLHARDY JULIEN    X THE SECOND ATTEMPT   XI BY THE PRINCES ORDERS  XII DISTRESSING NEWS XIII ESTERMENS DEATH WARRANT  XIV SANCTUARY   XV NEARING A CRISIS  XVI FALKENBERGS LAST REPORT XVII DEFEAT FOR FALKENBERGXVIII THE ONE WAY OUT  XIX ALL ENDS WELLILLUSTRATIONSReally he said I thought better of Herr FreudenbergAt least she reminded him you are going to see MadameChristophorSplendid he muttered rising to his feet If only I can do itLet me present to you Monsieur Bourgan of the French DetectiveServiceBOOK ONECHAPTER ISYMPATHY AND SELFISHNESSThe girl who was dying lay in an invalid chair piled up with cushionsin a sheltered corner of the lawn The woman who had come to visit herhad deliberately turned away her head with a murmured word about thesunshine and the field of buttercups Behind them was the littlesanitarium a gray stone villa built in the style of a châteauovergrown with creepers and with terraced lawns stretching down to thesunny corner to which the girl had been carried earlier in the dayThere were flowers everywherebeds of hyacinths and borders of purpleand yellow crocuses A lilac tree was bursting into blossom the breezewas soft and full of life Below beyond the yellowstarred field ofwhich the woman had spoken flowed the Seine and in the distance onecould see the outskirts of ParisThe doctor says I am better the girl whispered plaintively Thismorning he was quite cheerful I suppose he knows but it is strangethat I should feel so weakweaker even day by day And my coughittears me to pieces all the timeThe woman who was bending over her gulped something down in her throatand turned her head Although older than the invalid whom she had cometo visit she was young and very beautiful Her cheeks were a triflepale but even without the tears her eyes were almost the color ofvioletsThe doctor must know dear Lucie she declared Our own feelings sooften mean nothing at allThe girl moved a little uneasily in her chair She also had once beenpretty Her hair was still an exquisite shade of redgold but hercheeks were thin and pinched her complexion had gone her clothes fellabout her She seemed somehow shapelessYes she agreed the doctor knowshe must know I see it in hismanner every time he comes to visit me In his heart she addeddropping her voice he must know that I am going to dieHer eyes seemed to have stiffened in their sockets to have becomedilated Her lips trembled but her eyes remained steadfastOh madame she sobbed is it not cruel that one should die likethis I am so young I have seen so little of life It is not justmadameit is not justThe woman who sat by her side was shaking Her heart was torn withpity Everywhere in the soft sunlit air wherever she looked sheseemed to read in letters of fire the history of this girl the historyof so many othersWe will not talk of death dear she said Doctors are so wonderfulnowadays There are so few diseases which they cannot cure They seemto snatch one back even from the grave Besides you are so young Onedoes not die at nineteen Tell me about this manEugène you calledhim He has never once been to see younot even when you were in thehospitalThe girl began to trembleNot once she murmuredYou are sure that he had your letters He knows that you are out hereand aloneYes he knowsThere was a short silence The woman found it hard to know what to saySomewhere down along the white dusty road a man was grinding the musicof a threadbare waltz from an ancient barrelorgan The girl closed hereyesWe used to hear that sometimes she whispered at the cafés At onewhere we went often they used to know that I liked it and they alwaysplayed it when we came It is queer to hear it againlike thisOh when I close my eyes she muttered I am afraid It is likeshutting out life for alwaysThe woman by her side got up Lucie caught at her skirtMadame you are not going yet she pleaded Am I selfish Yet youhave not stayed with me so long as yesterday and I am so lonelyThe womans face had hardened a littleI am going to find that man she replied I have his address I wantto bring him to youThe girls hold upon her skirt tightenedSit down she begged Do not leave me Indeed it is useless Heknows He does not choose to come Men are like that Oh madame Ihave learned my lesson I know now that love is a vain thing Men donot often really feel it They come to us when we please them butafterwards that does not count I suppose we were meant to besacrificed I have given up thinking of Eugène He is afraid perhapsof the infection I think that I