The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, August 14, 1904, Page 2

house and that woke me up,” she sald, naturally enough. “Then, ‘while 1 stood at the window, a man cried out, and, of course, I was very much afraid. I aid not know what to think.” “Certainly you would not. The friends who visited me to-night were from the country of Cadi, Miss Venn; some of them are Spanish mountain- others are of the kingdom of Andorra. They sang at my request. You hesitate to believe, perhaps, that I am & romantic person; but the re- verse is very much the case. The note of song, the perfume of a flower can country for me. When I & wild hill song as you ht, I quit the cities and be- & free man of the woods again. in Spain and will ever be - day, let your happiness and unities be what they may, you know the same longing for your country—for a lane in that pretty have left, or a scene your childheod—as I ave known t 1 could wish u mo better fortune than to hope hat you will be able to gratify such & matural desire. There is nothing earth quite so bitter as expatria- jon from the land of your birth.” It was plain to Esther that he =i ee: recreate a hear suc fered much in this a ission; ax while the vague innuendos of his promise perplexed her, and she could not imagine under what circumsiances che could be an exlie from England, the perceived that his regret was very real, and that all this splendor of ome and power of rich ent noth- & to him if ght not lead him back ultimately to the land of his fathers. “I could never leave my own country forever,” she exc d med, sympathetical- ties might bind f Devonshire and wish me to go let it be on t I can come I could not con- Doctor Xavier. my childhood. abroad with y the understand He looked at kindly way, and smiled at her stipula- tion. “Yussuf gives me a good account of vou. I hear that you are a willing pu- pil end are foll prescriptions fait) a m which you suf- feres will useful if it ches you tha est gifts of y courage is onc of the womanhood. There alarm us in life, if r brains and ask our- right to be afraid. Of do mot wish to speak who have quarrel- own differences. to me. I am more own experiences, must forgive me if I a little cioser.” that she was very will- n and in her own to tell him of the ad undergone and of realized them. stronger and very the wsaid. “The reat deal of good. se 1§ very quiet and e, and I feel as though all of life had been suddenly not want to g0 the energy to ngs. The garden sometimes 1 wonder if ther Venn or somebody one has been so kind however, 1 The to T speak too W of the his head; and taking a fr a bracket, he held it high ve her might see her Esther,” he n believe you.” at him, a little scrutiny; but under verth “or quite a gt regarded her as a sculp- r ve regarded a statue upon he was working. The result arently, gratifed him. He set down mp and went on with his gues- eay that you can rest here; it od sign. A ¢ tion to rest of the secrets of health; and indisren e 10 our su we mountains, speak of »d with what same time, I Your obe to me iting ard lock it he carried obe with a railing i her perfect h and National Ga there was gov Moreover, edorned the ho ious emb 1 and there wer ms in gold and jewels hile a short cape faliing from the shoulders was embr red with pas- flowers. When Esther had put robe on, she discovered that it was too long for her, and fell in folds about her fe but the Doctor had no sooner fastened the silver clasp be- neath her chin than he uttered a leud cry of astonishment and stepped back like one delighted at handi- work. “Inez del Cadi! is Inez del Cadi!" he muttered, again and again; and as though to nvince himself beyond doubt, he lit up other lamps, which the roses shielded, until a dazzling light fell upon them and gave a newer ra diance to the splendid blue and the sheen of the glimmering cross. “It is a miracle, mademoiselle—noth- ing less than a miracle!” the dector went on, enraptured. “Some day you shall profit by it. I can not tell you now; you would not understand.” Esther confessed that understanding weas impossible; nevertheless, she would have ventured a question but for the sudden clang of a bell in the cuter courtyard and an answering echo of footsteps heard upon the gravel paths. This tinkling signal immedi- ately arrested Doctor Xavier's atten- tion, and, listening intently for a min- ute, he appeared to be the possessor of some new idea. “St he exclaimed, “my friende return—I must not refuse them. Wait bere—it is lucky and may help us.” cc He left her wondering at his agita- tion; and when he was gone she leaned upon her .couch of roses and tried to master the secret which ap- pealed more strongly to her troubled curiosity every hour that she remained in that house of mysteries. The vain task left her weary and fatigued. A quarter of an ‘hour passed and the doctor did not return—she heard a dis- tant church clock strike one and still he did not come. Fatigued and over- wrought, she succumbed at last and fell Into a gentle slumber. From this she was awakened by the rustle of a brocaded curtain and some hushed ery of surprise at her window; and looking up, she beheld a face that she recognized. It was that of the young man whom Julla had named “The Prince of Cadi.” CHAPTER IX. When Esther awpke in her room upon the following merning she dis- covered a strange mald at her bed- side. The girl said that her name was Suzanne and that she had been en- gaged by Madame Julia to accompany ihem to the south. Esther liked her face and did not hesitate to invite her confidence. “Do ou come from Parls, Su- zanne ?” “From Arles, mademoiselle; but I was with monsieur at the Chateau St. Paul, and I am to accompany you there to-day. All your things are packed and the tickets are taken. We are going from Charing Cross at 11 o'clock.” Esther could scarcely believe her ears, Dr. Xavier, she remembered, had often spoken of his chateau on the borders of Spain; but that he con- templated such an early departure from London was never in her thoughts. The events of last night un- doubtedly inspired - such a hasty change of plans. They quitted London because of that unhappy affair in the garden, and their journey, in some way, resembled a flight. This reflec- tion troubled her not a little. The news was 50 unlooked for that she could not at once realize it “Does the doctor company Suzanne?” she asked, dressing hastily and with little care. “He did not speak of this last night, and I had no idea we were going away so soon. I certainly did not think it would be un- til Madame Julia returned.” Suzanne had no time for expana- tions. She busied herself bout the room as though all the responsibility of an anxious days werc hers. “We shall find madame at Paris,” she salq, stolidly. “It would be a pity that she should return when we are going. Monsieur has left ths house already and will meet us at the ct teau. He asked me to say that he 1s sorry we must go alone; but we shall do very well, you and I, mademoiselle, for, of course, it is my own country and I shall not lose myself there. Mon- eleur has left a letter for you in your own room. We have not any time to lose, but we need not hurry. Ah, mademoiselle, we are lucky to go to the Chateau St. Paul—it is the most beautiful house in all the world! Such flowers, such gardens; and Toulouse 50 near, when one begins to want the shops. You know Toulouse, mademoiselle, no? Then monsieur will drive you there, and you will say that it is Paris at the foot of the mountains. T love the South’ This England is g0 ccld and sad. Wher summer comes it only teases you and goes away again before you kmow it is here. It is always summer at the Chateau St. Paul. Suzanne had spoken of a letter from Doctor Xavier; and this was delivered 40 Esther at the breakfast table. She found it couched in affectionate words, but brief, as the maild’s instructicns. The doctor sald, shortly, that busine of the gravest importance had called him m London and would detain him for some days. H= was disap pointed that they should not make the journey to Chateau St but Esther, he was sure, would excuse him and wculd hasten to his sister who awaited her in Paris “London has nothing left,” he wrote, “why should we linger there? We shall breathe in the mountains, camarade The purpose we have set ourselves achieve needs God's fresh air and the breezes of the hill-lands. We shall find them at the Chateau St. Paul. I count upon your interest and . fidelity. To- night the R Hotel in Paris you wilke find my ter Julta. She will b your guide until 1 come. For the rest, the maid all things necessary. Do not gpeak of the little gift T a for you friendship must not make im- ible. 1 greet my little ague ternally, and am her devoted, Xav- fer de Mcntalvan.” The gift of which he spoke was an containing English gold es to the value of a hun- ther did not resent she unwilling She had never hidden herself that she might be the nt of her patron’s enduring ; and furthermore, the idea of 1 ing alone upon the Continent without mon: had at once occurred to her something even her courage could not face. The tenor of the letter, indeed, invited her confidence; and she began to be not unpleasantly agitated at the thought of seeing other countries and other cities. When Suzanne announced that the carriage was at the door, she put on her cloak and hat with the ex- pectations of one who is going upon some unlooked-for holiday; and from that time until her arrival in Paris at half-past 5 o'clock, she confessed that she had no interest but those of the changing pictures about her. The sunny scene, the lake-like channel, Calais with its babel of tongues, the dreary sand-dunes by Boulogne, Amiens and its tunnels, the hedgeless monotonous plains of Northern France; and lastly the grim fortifications, the towering houses, the busy streets, the bewildering labyrinths of that Paris she had imagined so often, carried her as in a dream to her journey’s end. And now Suzanne chattered—how France inspired her! Esther sald such a talker she had never listened to; but she was none the less glad that Suzanne was with her at the Gare du Nord to order about the chattering porters and to lead her safely through that deafening maze. “Is it a big hotel, Suzanne?” she asked, when they had left the station end were clattering away toward the boulevards. “Shall we get a room, do you think?” Suzanne was almost too amazed to speak. As if any one who had not got & room would go to the Ritz Hotel! “Monsieur Xavier telegravhed this morning, as if he would not, made- moiselle! In France, he can command anything, oh, all the world knows Monsieur de Montalvan! There will be the best rooms for him; and we shall Paul together; to the: gift nor make use of it. it fro to as find Madame Julla there to tell us what to do. Look yonder; that's a cafe, mademoiselle. - You have none in England—ah, you don't know how to live! How should you when you have no cafes!” They had turned into the great boule- vard by this time, and all the garish life of Paris went crying, laughing, roll- ing before their eyes. Esther had read ‘something ‘of the city in the gulde books years ago; but the reality was 50 very different-from her - child- ish conceptions. She wondered if there were one sad person in this Paris of actuality. Thé shaded walks, the nolsy boulevard, cafes, shops, churches, suggested a scene which a novelist might depict but which could not ex- ist. Esther found herself asking a hundred questions; she cried out with delight at every changing pageant. The journey was, in truth, teo short; and when the cab stopped before the doors of the Ritz Hotel she was almost sorry that it was over. “Is it here, Suzanne, is this the ho- tel?” she asked. “It is the Ritz, mademoiselle. You have never seen anything like it. I will go and find out which rooms you are to have.” Suzanne discovered that their rooms were upon the first floor, a little suite overlooking the fountain and the courtyard. The dainty taste of the old French furniture captivated Esther; the privacy consoled her; and when the girl unpacked a taking gown of silk and chiffon and had dressed her hair to the best advantage, she could admit that after all the ordeal below might not be so terrible. So far. she was H TTAN HAD 2B THHE without tidings either of Madame Julia or of the doctor, but a telegram deliv- ered at half-past six o’'clock explained their absence. Julia telegraphed that she had lost the train from Dinard and would not arrive until to-morrow morning, and while the news was little comforting, Esther made the best of it. She was even persuaded to dine in the white and crimson room below; and coming at length to perceive that she was at no disadvantage at all even in such a company, she made bold after- ward to take a seat in the corridor and there to enjoy the music of the Hunga- rian band. No one would know her, none ask her name, she thought; but in this she was mistaken, for the band had hardly begun to play when some one addressed her, and, turning, she found herself face to face with the Prince of Cadi. He was in evening dress, with a light black cupe hanging loosely from his shoulders. Esther imagined that he had not dined at the hotel, but had re- turned to it from some other house. The button of an order showed beneath the lapel of his cape. His white waist- coat had no ornament of gold button ot watch chain. He was in the“act of drawing off his white kid gloves when he addressed Esther, and in her sur- prise she looked up swiftly at him, and could not conceal the pleasure of her recognition. Then, for ‘the first time, perhaps, she understood why his face had seemed familiar to her even upon their first meeting. Once in an old his- tory book she had seen a picture of a Spanish king, an engraving after one of Velasquez’'s masterpleces, and al- though it representéd an older man, none the less the young Spaniard be- fore her might have been its subject. THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL. 'The upturned mustache she found par- tieularly characteristic of his country- men; his crisp, curly hair, parted in the center, had been well brushed back from a pleasing forehead. Very clear lustrous eyes spoke of exercise and healthy habits. His skin was unusually fair for one of a southern race. She judged him to he almost six feet in height, but not quite. . He had an easy, graceful manner, although it was a lit- tle masterful, by reason of an old habit of authority and privilege. When she came to know him better Esther dis- covered that the Prince could not brook contradiction. His own master from an early age, he regarded men, and women, too, as his servants; and this service he rewarded with a gener- osity which was often as foolish as it was undeserved. He had many talents, but rarely chose to apply them patient- 1y or with perseverance. One by one he visited the cities of Europe, and made his dwelling there until he had exhausted the clity’s pleasures. At the present time he was in Paris until some new adventure should engage him, and this sud- den unlooked-for encounter with her whom he called ‘“‘the pretty English girl” at least amused him. Simply saving, “Permit me,” he drew a chalr to the tabie, and at once order- ed a waiter to bring them coffee. When he had lighted a cigarette, he asked her of the doctor— “I have come to Paris to see him, and I hear he has gone to Marseilles. There are very few men whom I would travel a mile to see. The Duke of Montalvan happens to be the excep- tion.” GAPLEYD, HE Esther started at the words. She was not a little interested in the favor shown to her by one whe occupied so great a position; but her curiosity quickly got the bettar of her surprise. “Why do you speak of the Duke o) Montalvan? Are you referring to Dr. Xavier, Prince?” He regarded her with some amaze- ment. “Ah, then you are incognito, Miss Venn?" “I only know him as Dr. Xavier.” The Prince laughed. “I must intro- duce him to you. He is concealing something,” he continued lightly. “You can never trust middle age, Miss Venn; it is oniy youth which is entirely frank.” Esther serious ey “Do you think it is always wise to be frank?"” “Oh, I—I never think about i{t! Thank heaven, I am not a diplomatist. My dictionary {s ‘ves’ or ‘no.’ You must put it down to my education. I was never taught lying as a fine art. If we sit here long enough, you will get all old Francisco's secrets out of me. Are you very much attached to him, Miss Venn?" Bsther leant her chin upon her hand, and asked herself if she were. “Can we be attached to people whom ‘We have known only a little while?” “‘Oh, if you press it, I must say ‘ves.’ Let's see, it was fifteen days ago that we first met.” “Yes, yes; but I was speaking of Dr. Xavier, Prince. I have only known him a few weeks.” “And have yet to discover all his infamies. I detected them long ago. He loves me so much that if I died ignorant of his looked at him with very EEY SIRUCA .Dgh’/l’ _DE RS, /to-morrow he would wear roses in his hair. Seriously, are you a friend of his sister?” Esther blushed deeply at the ques- tlon. She knew that she dare not tell this stranger why she was in Dr. Xavier's house. “No, I can not say that. I think Madame Julla. likes me; but it could scarcely be friendship yet. I am old- fashioned, you ‘know; I don’t believe that one can be friends in a day.” “I'll ‘call you an acquaintance, then. They tell me that she is expected here to-morrow morning. Will you present her with my regrets that I am called away exactly an hour before she ar- rives.” Esther understood that he was jest- ing; but the jest had a sting which he could not conceal. His own bravade apparently struck him as an impru- dence; for, anon, he became more seri- ous, and then Esther listened with in- terest. “Are you an old —do you know mudh of Europe?” “I know nothing, Prince; 1 have never been out of England before.” “Ah, what luck, to have it all be- fore you! I am blase, you know. There is a stage when he realizes that nothing left to show him. He ¥ to escape the marvelcus; he posi does not want to see the deepest water- fall or the highest mountain. Five years of travel have taught me that its future is more than its present. We do not realize great scenes truly until we have left them. We remember a few, and they remain unforgetable pictures while we live. Each has his veler, Miss Venn in a.traveler's life has the world VA 2YIG, WS DEJL. HWAS own Eidorado—mine is in have been twice round the world, and Spain. I would give it al! for a little chateau in the hills, whose doors are shut to- day and whose rooms are empty. Cities enable me to forget. That which ap- peals to the car wearies less than that which appeals to the eye. You can al- ways cull some new emotion from Wagner’s music; but if you stop for a month at a mountain's foot you are simply bored. Is not that your own experience?” “I will tell you when I have seen a mountain, Prince. Of course, music does appeal very much to emotional people; I know that from my own ex- perience. When I have been for a month in the Pyrenees I shall consider myself no less an authority upon mountains. Some day, perhaps, I will tell you all about it. ‘“‘Some day'—ah, that dreadful ‘some day.’ It is the curse of life. We see a lovely face and say that fome day we may find it again. Do you de- ceive yourself with ‘some day,’ Miss Venn. The man who enjoys life is the one who has no manana. I am a Spaniard, and ‘my nation has sold its birthright for to-morrow. The same procrastination finds me in this hotel to-night, when I should be the first among my people. Be warned in time ~have nothing to do with ‘some day.' " A deeper meaning lay behind his words, but Esther could only take the larger sense of them. “I will not forget your warning,” the said, “but you would not have me promise to tell you to-day, when I do not go to the cha- teau until to-morrow? That would be Irish, you know.” “Then I prefer the Irish manner. Let us cultivate exactness. In one month from this day I will come to your house and you shall answer me your- self. Do you ferbid it?” ‘He leaned across the table so far that Esther could almost feel his breath upon her cheek. A true instinct had told her from the first that’destiny intended the Prince to play some part in her own life. What part it might be, she did not dare to think. She knew only that she was attracted, by him as she had pever been by any other living being.' She felt that if he commanded her, she would obey; it might even be would follow whe willed. And he, in his turn, "schooled to read women truly, was not ignorant of -his power. She was charming, he thought, this little English girl; he must know more of her. “‘Will you permit me,” he repeated. “Will you permit me to come to the chateau?’ . “How can I forbid it, Prince? I am Doctor Xavier's guest, and, ff course, he would be glad to see you. He laughed ironically at her sim- plicity. “Glad—when he is crossing Europe to avoid me! Oh, no; your friend, the Doctor, does not tell you the truth, Miss Venn, if he says that he is glad to see Arthur of Cadi! Naturally, he says nothing. He would not wish you to think that he stands between me and my people; he would not admit that because of him. I must lose a kingdom and a home! No, I do not fear him: it is not that. But as I am cursed, as my nation is cursed, with the fatal- ity of delay, ¥ do not practice what I preach. An idle stream invites me to drift upon it and I let my bark go where {t will. Some day It will be dif- ferent—ah! that splendld ‘some day!'" Esther had but the vaguest ideas of these momentous matters to which he referred, nor would she speak of the That some grave quarrel had driven the two men apart was very evide but how it had come about, or of its nature, she could. not form any im- pression. The stranger's confidence vited her own. She did not fear to in- terrogate him in her tuin. “Have you knewn Dector Xz long, Prince? Was he once a friend of yours?"” “I will not deny it. I eould not f; ly. The fault is neither his nor m it is caprice and a woman, Miss Venn the fount and origin of every quar that man takes part in. Have n to do with either. Abjure the of your sex. Let me man's heart and a wom when I come to the chateau promise—is agreed that I come 2" She was conscious of a new note i his address; and her little quickly when she “Shall T promise for ‘some 1 ir- 1 ng 2 it heart some d When bered f Mad: in tin rnin the bt of ted to s of both of digpleased capricious. ered no accu her to come did not tion, own room to her. ompl but and outbre: te: happit ife s met hin answe yme 1 one grown cold sure or fear X what circum- We hav wown under L € : and how that, in the company of Doctor Xavier and his sister, she paid her first visit to the Chateau of St. Paul. With her Spain, and afterwards in Fr e life in and Italy ttle. We know that this story concerns in cl clusion for nearly five months hear of her in the mou s and tk cities; but her life is alway 1 ful, and it is not uniil the the foilowing Janua pears with dramatic the social horizon of Paris, ly is the foremost figure in that cs of enthusia Such a change young girl fe can find few parallels in the story of a woman, nor does the account of it the m modest estimates ¢ sensa which attended her r unsought, she had turned to hear her beautiful woman in France, st by the lose force most be the to spoiled child of the salon and the the- ater, to have the ial world at her feet. If she herself remained the at- tractive girl that Francisco Xavier had found her, if she were uncons s both of her influence and her beauty, this happy circumstance owed not a little to her own decided character and the good common sense she had in- herited. Vanity at any time was re- pellant to her. None the less, she knew that some miracle had influenced her life—a miracle so simple and true that faith could not be withheld. She had come to Paris secretly, ac- companied by the loquacious Julia, and unaware of the object of the unexpect- ed visit. Five months of the solitudes left her unprepared for this surprise. She was never more surprised than when, at Lausanne upon that memorable day of Janu- ary, Doctor Xavier spoke once more of the city and the world. “The mountains can give us no more,"” he had sald. “We are like bees who have sucked up the last drop of honey. Come, we will return to Paris without delay. It may be the last journey we'shall ever make as students together.” Esther was perplexed at the enigma of his words, but obedience was now a habit to her. and she accompanied him to the north without question. In Paris, as we have told, she played for a brief while her part in the soclal comedy of which the French are such consum- mate masters. Everywhere, at the opera, in the Bois, In the houses of the privileged, she bore unconscious wit- ness to the truth of the Spaniard's claims. Men said that she was the most beautiful woman that Parig had €ver seen; even women raved her. As indifferent to the praises the one as to the envy of the othe Esther carried her own secret and hid It from the world as a precious thing Good sense forbade her to remen the one romance of her life, and Wished to remember it. That she wou see the Prince of Cadi sooner or la she never doubted. W shé met after many days in e house Spanish Duque de Rina she ac the encounter as inevitable. The Prir lived in Paris now, and, natura would meet her. He was not grea charged, she thought; certainly he ha lost nothing of that attractive persc ality which won her interest five months ago. The night was a mer Zsther in many ways. rable one for had beer troduced by Doet to 8 ) scenes abund y si she artived Faris; but this scene at the house of the Duc de Nominally a ina surpassed th soiree musicale fo nomadie ar f the French capital, to Esther it was chiefly a vision of immense rooms and brilllant women, of soldiers and statesmen and priests, but pre ing throng wh divided® as she en tered upon Doctor Xavier's arm, and watched her almost in silence as sha P t up to the dais whereon the Duke and Duchess received their guests. For the first then, perhaps, she k that the master-key of a woman power had been entrusted to her. This buzz of tongues, the envious eyes, could not be mistaken. Eveérywhere in that ew imense salon men were saying. “Marvelous ‘women were ex claiming, Who is she?” Esther in her simplicity, did not dare to ask if the triumph were wholly her: in part that of curiosity kened by some tale of the mar- velous. She was dazed, it may bo frightened, by the very applause which the master-mind had earned for her; and when one by one the leaders of Paris were introduced to her, she an- swered them, scarce knowing what she said. The Prince had been standing in the door of the great conservatory which glives off the Duchess' boudoir. He w te uniform of a Spe e his ¢ stlessly he since made no e years is impos: 1ssure you e You must tell me t country:. It is th which I am a big as able to tell hir so very prettily \ave been very bu He ‘an with igarette from a little gold me,” he said; “it is a habit to smoke when any one speaks of business. As for that, yes my weeks h been laborious. shot at Chantilly with the Duke; Oc- to found me at Trou W could have steamed from there «nd come ac s to you, b Bayonne a 1, we might have béen t Regr: s are useless. Life is short and travel is tedious. I remember that en ergy Is really very troublesome. It earns a stat n a market p r a tomb in a cathedral—I d neither. Admit the logle.” “I don’t admit it at all e Others are better, surely, f > work, and are we not all in some gre scheme of things, each with his own part to play? You make fun of i 1 would argue with you. I can see that you are not serious.” He blew a little cjoud of smoke into the still air—and seemed to muse for a little while; then he said “Perhaps I am not The day come which will fir awake. me postpone it as | \s possibl while I tell you that y would make an excellent priest if you were not too pretty. Believe me Esther, 1 am dumb with surpri Esther read a deeper meaning his compliment and did not resent She thought that she understood this man wholly as she had never under- stood a human .being in her life. When she was with Francisco Xavier there had often been a sense of the obscure and the unrevealed and it perplexed