The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, July 5, 1903, Page 1

(3 HE Spenders,” by Harry Leon Wilson, begins in the Next Sunday Call. In securing this book. which has mulversally been described as “the wreat American novel.” The Sund Cpll created a veritable journalist Ariumph there has mever been wrliten = with modern life in both the Fast and the West im such a stromx, ters ibirilling manver as “The Spender: does. 1t has been aptly described for book which deals abgelutely unigue way, fes is the great momey-making = 116m of the eart tng love th it. “The Spenders this form »fil be tremendo ponular. Wateh for it and see. That.is ene of the best features y Call’s literary pelicy. only get the very ®evels by the writers in the world, but ¥ them qmick. There mre mot lemg waits between installments and mo inter- winabie series of “Continued in our pext” eatch line Then in rapid succession will fol- jow that thrilling mew Americas wovel, “The Master of Appleby,” b Frascis Lym Critten > Jekn Fox Jr.; “The Two Vamrevels. by Boeth Tarkimgton. whose famou The Gentleman from Tmd sas,” has just been comcluded im thess pages: “The Turnpike House,” hry Fergés Hume, etc., ete. by the National Press Agescy. and Final Installment) Brent k" 1 mere acriy ad draw 1 ha . Be he r had 2 - - other marked v x ¥ much ate ns 1 might ing wh 1 was industriously tar Dubois eceive me n but | my st ears of the de- house. First I name which I Palace Hotel. as the manager bad is, and if 1 became ames Guest. Besides h to conceal, James right man for the oc- re p cgan to te for the tec T » o the by the ysee reason to oelleve 1 f an article which was me, but as it was who must not on any the case, I did the Paris police. k Monsieur Dubois to doing for me was as possible tne where- pposed thief, whom I said that we had trav- mentioned the incidents on on the rallway station, that 1 had been ignorant | after arriving at the and exita of. my 18 Botel “Dubols put vari ¢ 'S put various questions and T an- ®weied © tem—when ] chose. When be touched on pelnts which In ms opinfen were better left alone, I frankly said that they had nothing to do with the case. He looked at me sharply, but did not urge me to openness with him, a8 I had been id he would. I told him that, as the 1 wanted to find might not remain in Paris, 1 should like to have the hunt be- gin at once, and if the fellow should be unearthed, 1 would gladly pay him (Du- bois) a bundred pounds. with rather an odd expression on b promised to do his best, and to keep his mouth shut, On the whole, 1 was pleased with him. rie looked like & person who knew his business. and The de could do it with any man. Had it not been for my solemn promise to the For- eigu Secretary and the danger for Juli- e. 1 would gladly have told him every- hing exactly @s it had happened, begin- g with my morning cail at Sir Gardon toke's—which now seemed severgl e time Monsieur Dubols had been med with such facts es I ventured to ter 11 o'clock. 1 could ng more for the moment. and as f famished (I'd had nothing to luncheon on the e a very light returned to my hotel not far off hasty supper. When I had finished I knew that the first perform- ance of the new play at the Theater de la Republique was over, and that if T went to Juliette de Nevers' house in the Rus u 1 shou)d find her slone, waiting cagerly expecting me. rdinary circumstances there would have been @ supper on the stage with Jullette as hostess, or she would guests home with her, or she e/f have been the most distin- mewhere else. But to- have made some exc tak woulc as soon as the play was her house unattended. 1 was of this as that | was alive me that it was a quarter 1 could reach Juliette's r eight minutes. 1 would at the corner and go to as it would not be well t that Mademoiselle de eiving a visit from a young se from the table el at once, when person on the hc st the last d to see—Margot Revel- one, but for an instant ked straight into each saw no one else. There ce in the world; 1 had come >0 heard famillar voices and Margot was one of the part was with her aunt, Lady 4 nd her aunt's husband, Gener: her cousin, Marion Sit- n-a young man-—whom before. And it was Gawain, not my darling to me in amazed recog- ere old. friends of mine, was at Lady Gawain's »w that I had first met 3+'s daughter. = surprise!” Lady Gawain was aiming. “Who wou'd have thought ¢ ing you here? But ons mets everybody in Parls, We are just in, and wearé starving - With hunger, Margot, dear”’ aren’t we. 18, echoed Margot, with as gay if we had not parted so exactly thirteen hours—thir- cky houre-ago. 1 have always thought Margbt Revelstoke's the most divinely 1 ¢ smile 1 ever saw. A deep dimple flashes into each. cheek, and her t eves turn suddenly into stars. It is most bew effect imaginable, o es give a bound to- though 1 knew well that the smile. She only seem exactly the same as ever er companions, in whom she had nfided either our under- the misunderstanding which ad so swiftly followe As she smiled she let me take her hand, and T could sist the temptation to press it. But b for jpst the faintest re- ittle fingfrs lay stiffly in my the fraction of a second, then freed themselves. She meant matter how conven- ¢ her behave, she forgotten nor forgiven. I was unhappy st at the time-had well with me—when I ought to have the most deliriously ecstatic tellow on earth, having won her. It did seem as If fate were dead against me; for here Margot had been spirited to me ome as vet inexplicable manner; and bile 1 might have been striving after a ation, 1 was imperatively called voice of honor to go somewhere that somewhere else all others where Margot griest with me for going. But at least | had one moment to spare —or to steal—from that grim fate, and I resolved to make the most of it “I am even more surprised to see you than you can poss'bly be to see me,” [ said to Lady Gawain and at Margot. And T was wondering for all I was worth who could be the new man with them. He was a good-looking chap, like a sol- dler, and he stood close to Margot. I was vilely jealous of him—for hears of 1g caught In the rebound. and instead of doing something to regain my lost position beforg any one lese had a chance to step In and render it untenable, 1 should be obl'ged presently t make matters worse—if they could be worse. “I haven't yet recovered from my own surprise at being here,” laughed Lady Gawain, a plump, kindly, delightful crea- ture who didn’t mind in the least being over fifty. “My husband found himself obliged to come to France on important business—that 1s, there’s a wonderful motor-car for sale that he wants to look at. I didn't see why I shouldn't get a little fun out of the expedition as I was ipvited to join, so I flew up/fo my broth- er's and literally carried Margot and Mar- ion off by force. We caught the 2:30 train for Boulogue-such a rush as it wasl— picked up Captain Menzles, who is a great motor-car expert, and here we are, ready for business to-morrow morning. I sup- pose you are stopping in the hotel, aren’t the one place would be the one only you? “Yes,” 1 answered, and looked .again at Margot She had not a glance for me, but she was blushing beautifuily. At Jeast, I thought, it was a good omen that she should have consented to corae to France to-day. Of course, she could not have known at what hotel [ meant to stop, and even if she had she would probably nave tried to persuade the Gawains to go to another. Still the very fact that, after what had passed in the morning, she was willing to breathe the alr of Paris with me was something. She must have known that we might meet, and sne had been willing to run the risk. I bardly needed the small comfort to be got from this reflection; for the moment Lady Gawain mentioned the name of Captain Menzies I remembered something which Miss Sitgreaves had sald to me not long ago. She had %old me that there was a Captain Menzies, a godson of Lady Gawain's, of whom Margot's aunt was always talking to ber. They had never met, but when he came back from South Africa Lady Gawaln would (according te not help fancying was mingled with wist- fulness. ments at midnight, even in Paris, except Marion Sitgreaves) do her best to make & match. This recollection threw a lurid light vpon Lady Gawain's determination to bring Margot to Frauce, and the “pick- ing up of the great motor car expert” at Boulogne. But in spite of all thig and my reasons for wishing Margot to be anywhere rather than here at this hour, T could not help rejoicing in the sight of her. and especially in that blush. “It's a good wind that blows us all to- gether here,” said General Gawain, in his hearty, but rather absent-minded way. “Sit down with us and have some supper.” “Mr. Brent has just finished his supper, don’t you see, Uncle Robert,” remarked Margot, hastily. “What does that matter?” retorted the old officer. “Can’t he eat another, or if he can’t do that, what's to prevent him from eitting with us while we eat ours?” “Perhaps he has some delightful en- gagement,” Margot suggested, looking at me with spubdued malice, which I could “People don't usually have engage- - ‘fgmflrm PO CL COF IOIL BRI * in the season” broke in Lady Gawain, looking smilingly at the traveling clothes which I still wore. “I think, Margot, it you and Marion and I join your uncle in asking Mr. Brent to stay and drink suc- cess to the motor-car deal that he won't refuse.” She w the kindest woman on earth; but If she had deliberately tried to clothe her invitation in the terms most em~ barrai to me, she could not have chosen her words better. I felt myself color up under M mocking, yet questioning eyes stammered out my answer A boy caught In flagrant m “J—er—I must—the fa have an engagement—a business engagement that I—er—I regret very much I reak And really, I'm afrald I ought to be off now or I shall be late. “Surely two or thres minutes h there can't make very much diffe said General Gawain, who was ce in his family circle for saying ti thing. “J—er—fear they will make rather a difference in this case,” I blurted out, bardly knowing myself in my utish awkwardness; for a I am a cool hand enough, or at least have the nerve to appesr so. Yet now, when I would have given a finger to co ! myself, I went to pieces under the battery of Ma got's eyes. And I knew that I was brick eolor, for even General Gawain saw that something was amiss. “Ha, ha¥" he laughed “Well, go, my dear boy, and keep your ‘business’ en- man of busi e all wish you joy of gagement. What are, to be sure. "' Somehow I got away, my ears tingling. I did not look back, but the last thing I heard was Margot's laugh, which, sweet as it was, went through me like a knife. It wanted five min 12 when I reached the street. Midnight was striking by the time I was seated in a cab and driving toward the Rue d’Anjou. I was late for the appointment after all—only & few minutes which General Gawain had judged so insignificant; yet what a dif- ference—if 1 had guessed—they were to make for me! Told by Julietts de Nevers CHAPTER VIL COWARD CONSCIENCE AND A GAMNB OF BLUFF. 3 How I got through my part on that awful night I don’t know. ‘When I first went on the stage, to take up my cue at the end of the first aet, my. brain was a blank. I could not re= member a single line that I had to say when I tried to project miy mind ahead. 1 saw no one on the stage. I did not even see Maxine de Ribaum though I knew he was in the box: but I seemed to feel him looking at me. I felt his great love coming down to my chilled heart llke a warming ray of sunlight. I felt the influence of his desire for my success. For him I must not fall. I had never failed, and I would not now. So it was, though I gould not have re- peated a word from my part before I went on the stage. I found myself an- swering cue after cue as I recelved Applause came surginf up to m like a great tidal wave. ears The audlence was mine to do with as T would; yet for once I feared it, as if it had been a greag tiger purring as it crouched to spring, for I thought, “What if it knew the thing that I had done? What if a voice should cry out that Juligtte de Nevers had be- trayed France and the ally of France— that she had stolen e treaty of alllance and sent it to the enemy—England! How those hands which beat themselves to- gether now in applauding me would iteh to grasp my throat Still, I went on. An actress can alw: go on—till she breaks. I think that she cannot be bent like other women; ah, [ envy the other women who are not skilled to hide things. It seems to me that they must suffer less. As I left the stage at last, having re- turned for five curtain cdlls at the end of the first act, I met near my dressing- room men carrying large harps and crowns and wreaths of flowers which had been thrown to me on the stage, or sent round from the s door. T hardly looked at them, for Maxine was thers, too, waiting for me. He had come from the box, and he followed into the boudotr which adjoins the dressing-room. There we were alone. And I have five minutes to spare him before I need dress for the next act. The touch of his hands gave me strength and lfe once more. There I8 something wonderful In the touch, in the presence of the human being one loves best. For a moment one fargets every- thing else; the whole world falls away. I have flirted with many men—occasionally because it amused me; oftener because I had something to gain for political ends; but I never knew what that blessed feel- ing was uutil I met Maxime de Ribau- mont. He is so tall and strong—taller even than Noel Brent, whom I used to think the finegt-looking man I had ever seen before I knew Maxime and it was a hea enly rest to lay my head for a moment on his shoulder, just shutting my eyes, without speaking a word. I thought then —for I was so worn in body and soul with the strain of keeping up—that after death the best paradise would be to lean my head on Maxime's shoulder, like this, for two or three hundred years. But even as the peaceful idea came into my head back ~ darted remembrance like a stinging adder. — I remembered how little I deserved para- dise, and how my lover's dear arms would