Evening Star Newspaper, September 15, 1935, Page 96

+ Magazine Section going back to the boat to lie down and rest The man Ellett astonished Mary by answering her unuttered query as to the action of the captain. Softly the words came to the ears of the girl: “The captain of the Jugurtha will send a wireless to the Com- missaire of Police.’ “Why — why did vou say that?" “1 thought that you were wondering what they would do when they missed you." “Is that — is that what thev usually do?" “Well, it's not an everyday happening, I mean for a young American girl to be left behind in Algiers. Hasn't happened in mv time. But I guess that is what the skipper will do. ... I cantake you to the Prefecture. The\ might have a message by now." “But — but,"”’ stammered Mary Raeburn, “I do not wish to go to the Prefecture. | don't want a message from the steamer." A great fear was upon her. The Jugurtha was lost to sight now, but the wretched wire- less might be spitting out her name! Her description! Mary Raeburn of New York. Tall. blonde, blue eves! Anvone holding her against her will is bound to answer to Presi- dent Roosevelt and the United States ot America. It was horrible. The man Ellett was aware of her distress. He was, so it appeared, desirous of comforting her. “There is a café across the boulevard." he said hurriedly. “Perhaps vou would like to sit down. I could get vou something. A cup ot coffee? Yes?" Stunned by the thought of the gibbering wireless tossing her name and description into space, Mary Raeburn allowed him to lead her across the street. He was polite and gentle. The surmise that he was an African devil was all wrong, surely. “Coffee or something stronger?' he asked. “Coffee, please.”” whispered Mary. He urged her to sip the warm liquid that the Arab boy brought. In a low voice he com- menced to speak about himself. Mary realized that he was attempting to keep her thoughts from the ship and the wireless message. He had been in Northern Africa for nine years, he told her. ““When I was a kiddy my father had two heroes.” he said. “David Livingstone and H. M. Stanley. Funny. He, my father, was a clergyman of the Episcopal Church. His studv was filled with maps of Livingstone's journevs. Zambesi, Limpopo fi I'HIS WEEK River. Tanganvika. Thriliing names. Round us were quiet American names Cartel Parker. Woodford, Ashland. Nice names. but gosh! put them alongside Limpopo River You understand ** Mary Raeburn smiled. **Africar! devils hve near Limpopo River,” she murmured. She was sure that this voung man would know whv she had “jumped" the steamer. “Father couldn't go to Africa. but 1 could. " he continued “Africa has a fascination that isn't found elsewhere,” she remarked “It has.” he said, after a long pause. *'But it has poison too. It's got a curious brand of wickedness that puzzles one. Comment?" The last word was snapped at an agent-de- police, who touched his cap and made a mut- tered apologv for his intrusion “Je cherche une demoiselic Américaine qu a manqué le depart du * Jugurtha,' "' said the agent. “Elle s'appelie Mademoiselle Raeburn Ellett looked at Mary Raeburn. “The captain of the Jugurtha has lost a lady pas- senger,"’ he said smiling. “This fellow thinks it might be vou. Of course it need not be if vou do not wish it. You may be Lily Smith Nice name, Lily Smith." “Yes, ves." whispered Mary. “'Lily Smith. " “Cette demoisellc s'appelle Lilv Smith." said Ellett, addressing the policeman. The agent showed disbelief. He glanced at a slip of paper in his hand and then at the eves and hair of Mary. Ellett was annoved. He leaned forward and spoke with biting sar- casm. The young lady had stated that her name was Lilv Smith, and would the agent now kindly take himself to the top of the ramp and jump into the harbor? The agent left hurriedly. Ellett watched him turn the corner: then he spoke. “That idiot will come back tolook at your passport.’ he said “Could I ask vou to dine with me? I know a little place where we will be safe from him. Please !’ In the tiny restaurant in the Rue de Chartres Mary Raeburn amplified her confession. Told of the wild desire that gripped her as the Jugurtha ploughed across the Atlantic. The desire to ree/ Atrica She told of Mr. Peter Cranlev. Peter to whom she had fibbed about returning to the steamer “Do vou like him?" asked Ellett Mary said she did and she didn't. Close to the African background he appeared so fearfully American. 'So exact, so logical. so business-like,”" she explained. "*The nearer | got to Algiers the less I liked him Ellett understood. He felt sorry for Mr Peter Cranley. A girl with an obsession for Africa would naturally find an American attorney on a holiday a little unromantic Difficult to make an impression on a mind that had buiit up visions of sheiks, desert oases, date palms, and barbaric fantasies Mary Raeburn couldn't eat. The fact that she was in Africa brought excitement that killed her appetite. And around her — vel- vety, frightening, snitfing at her, touching her face —— was the African night They had reached the coffee and liqueur stage of the meal when Ellett spoke. “'I have been thinking."" he said. **Tomorrow the police will surely find vou. You will be compelled to rejoin the steamer. Not by force. but the Corn- missaire of Police will politely tell you that vou must catch the boat at Tunis. You see the captain is responsible for you. And your chaperon and Mr. Cranley will insist. We will say that vou have this night free. This splendid night. What do vou think vou would like to do on a warm perfumed mght in Algiers? Tell me.” Mary Raeburn closed her eyes and con- sidered the question. What strange force coming out of Africa had made Peter Cranley appear cold. stupid and unromantic? She was puzzled. “I can’t exactly put my desire into words, " said Mary ‘1 wished to see the primitive lite Vi The captain ot the Jugurtha had lost a lady passenger, said the agent. Mary looked at him fearfully Seprember 15, 1935 the rather inehtening primitive life that that civilization has covered up Ellett nodded 1o vou trust me * “Why. ves. answered the girl She opened her handbag and quietly pushed forward a fitty dollar bill. 1 would like to pay for this meal and - and for anv otha expenses,”’ she murmured. Ellett thrust the bill back into her hand “Please.” he said. “"You have a few hours of liberty. Tomorrow vou will be Jugurthaized. Let's get this longing out of vour system ' The night was waiting for Mary Raeburn. The velvety night. Whispers from latticed windows. Furry laughter from dark door- ways. The swish-swish of heel-less babowshe. . To the Kasba. Ellett guiding her through the dark lanes. The night alive with nasal chants and the throbbing of the derbowka. Swathed figures like levitating ghosts . . . Ellett whispering to Mary Raeburn as they thrust their way through a narrow passage “Don’t look shocked when vou get in here.” Inside, a blind Arab played a three stringed instrument, made of the shell of a tortoisc. while his young wife danced. Now and then the hand of the musician would reach out sud- denly toward the dancer, and with amazing swiftness the woman would interpose a silk shawl between herself and the inquisitive hand. Ellett whispered. “He doesn’t know she dances like that. At least the people who are here think he doesn’'t know. Theyv come each night expecting some sort of tragedy if he finds out.” “Do you think he knows?" asked Mary “I'm puzzled. There is something sinister in the way his hand flashes out. Watcl him."” Mary Raeburn watched. Yes. the blind hand that flashed out when the woman danced close to the musician thriiled one by its fierce suddenness. It sought to catch her off guard. When the fingers felt the shaw! thrown so hurriedly over the part of her body towards which the hand was thrust, thev seemed to lose their vigor. The hand fell helplessly till a sudden titter from the audi- ence roused it to make another etiort. “He doesn't know," whispered Mary Rae- burn. “He is not play-acting. He thinks on The suddenly outstretched hand struck tlesli betore the dancer could swing the shaw into place. Muscuiar fingers bit into the shapely leg. A hand swung the musical instru- ment. It crashed on the dancer's head and she dropped to the stage. . .. “Cling to me ! "' said Ellett, as pandemonium broke out in the stutty room. **Straight for the door ! Don't bother about her! They'll pull him off! You were right. He didn't know. Funny.” Through the screaming struggling mass into the waiting mght Ellett pulled Mary Raeburn aside. A blind and scabby beggar had clawed at her. The fellow howled as she tried to escape his leprous nngers. .. . . A girl dancing for centimes slipped to the street in a faint brought on by weariness. .\ frightful hag. fingers blunted from scratching the cobbles in search of the small coins, dragged the danseuse to her feet. Beat her with her bare hands. The crowd cheered. . . . “The kid has got to dance the whole night through,” explained Ellett. **No, it's not her mother. Some old wretch who has hired her. Romantic, yes?" On and on through the night. piling one on top of the other. A sweaty hand thrust from a doorwav plucked at Mary's arm. Ellett struck at the impudent unknown. There was a cry of pain, a light scufile, then the two Americans were swept along in the human current. Strange odors. Stenches rather. Little braziers on the street with crackling flames. Morsels of liver and lights spitted in little skewers. Two sous a skewer! The foul mob fought for them. Snatched them half-cooked from the coals. Ate them with animal-like noises. Mary Raeburn became suddenly afraid. “T—1 would like to find a hotel,”’ she whispered. *‘I'm tired.” *‘Sure,” said Ellett. “Come along.” Down the Rue de la Kasba into the town. Into the glare of the big arc lamps on the Place du Gouvernment. Mary was silent. Ellett surmised that she now wished to forget all that she had seen. (Continued on page 13 Vignettes