The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, August 28, 1904, Page 2

o —_ - HiS IS THE CONCLUD- ING INSTALLMENT OF DR. XAVIER.” WHICH | BYGAN IN THIE SUN- CALL MAGAZIN « AUGUST 7 THE NEXT NOVEL TO APPEAR WILL B ANNA, THE AD- VENTURESS.” LY E. PHIL- LIPS OPPENHEIM: A STORY IN WHICIHI THE LIVES AND FORTUNES Oi WO sISs- TERS A\LMOST IDENTICAL IN FEATURE, BECOME STRANGI'LY INTERWOVE ONE A SIRUGGLING ARTIST OF JIGH MIND AND IDEALS., THE OTHER A | SINGER IN THE PARISIAN DANCE IALLS AND NO- TORIOUS OVER ALL OF PARIS 1'OR HER ESCA- | PADES THY STRONG, COMPLICA AND AT TIMES TRAGICAL LOVE INTERIS] HAT RUNS THROUGIH THE STORY IS HAN ED WITH THE AsS- SURED GIIIP OF AN EX- PERIENCED NOVELIST. IT IS A STORY THAT WILL SPEAK 1OR FROM THI VERY CHAP- —a trifling erned with one s s composition: Y vilt 4 ¥ E: o 1king nything but » t I saw before ags ] 3 rest you had awakened ust know € his re smissed it as & folly. But it 1 s events com- i I recognized whom my country hoped er be faithful to b great finally. This the fire of the I wished him at his happiness the gent trenuous mind that this gener with m his obligations them up. In Arthur of tion. Se I began my Paris my of this city. I n for him a prince- freedom, we “The tr ty s ar you ! £ know what ve defeated ust he enemies have set for camarade, they would Their agents inveigle it he will follow in the ask r you vho can save him this defense which life for the S 1ed to be re- by page by one who knew od every line of it. This > plausible, defied her Posing there as the nd of the husband she loved ely, she yet could be sensi- reservation which marred confidence and awakened her sus- ions. For ny minutes, indeed, er perple silenced her and she did reply. She believed that the whole b bad yet to be told—and in this > was right. Two, Doct: * she said at last; “no, there is o one—only one!” He turned to her suddenly, stretch- ing out his hand to point at her. ‘In a sense I grant it; there is only one—it ig you, camarade' “I—1! Ah, if it were!” “I mean it; you are the one person in who can save its Prince.” to breathe quickly and b & s t I am helpless,” she 1 her with a laugh. so! As T am a man of truth. You can save e and now!” s tightly, fearing that herself. The truth told; she dreaded it. spoke at last It was aimost in a whisper ‘ou sce that I do mot understand!” 2id; 1 beg you to be plain with > be leaned over the table and spoke Il be plain,” he said; “the time hes come for it. Your husband is a prisoner in the citadel—the people cry life. The senate is ready to I the army deserts him. ind whose suzerainty we 1 not lift a hand in such an af- s. It is our own for our peo- settie. We shall try this man on a copital charge and he will be shot unless—ah, unless, sulded by your wis- dom, he resigns all, abdicates of his own free will, leaves this kingdom has betrayed. 1Is it clear to me; do you understand it now? He had not called Esther “madame” before, and the sudden change of de- meanor from that of the kindly per- suasive friend to the dictatorial man- ner of the politiclan and the schemer declared the true part he was playing. She saw it all now; there could be#no disguise. Arthur's life depended upon this abject surrender of his kingdom and his birthright. Nothing less would satisfy those relentiess enemies whose nirigues had been sov subtle and so sure. He must give up all, become an exile from the land of his birth and permit his cloak to fall upon the shoul- ders of another. Esther knew already what his answer would be. And her own? She buried her face in her hands, afraid to speak! She heard the almost fmpatient question, and did not dare to answer fit. “Come, medame, I wait for you; is it posible that you hesitate? Am I to as- you? Will you sacrifice it for ment—no, you are too shrewd! ( has no interest for you; in Paris or London the generosity of my country will permit your husband to live under those circumstances of luxury to which prudence entitles him. WIil you sac- rifice that for a chimera of power?—no, I do not believe it! Yow will save your husband because you love him—a no- ble task, a woman’s task, madame She looked up at the words and re- plied with a dignity which surprised him. “I love my husband; but he shall speak for himself. Is it a woman's task to rob him of his birthright? I have answered you, Doctor Xavier; I shall never answer otherwise.” He heard her without surprise; he had expected no other response. The bargain he offered her was so little un- derstood. Time must be on his side: CIHE OUBSE OF GOD BX PON TOore gz '5157)& ,,_’ij‘fgc",’ . and there were other weapons! For her own suffering he cared nothing. It was not to be hidden from him that his Wwords tortured her; he intended that they should. “You speak in haste,’” he said. “Of course your husband must answer for himself since the question will be put to him and not to you. But, madame, have you no part té play, no counsel to offer him; are you dumb when he is ? 1 think pot; I know you better. vou discuss it With him—" » ' she cried, “you -speak in rid- “Not so; 1 gpeak of facts. When you leave this room and drive to the cita del, when you see the circumstances i which s placed, when you unde stand that {f he {s foolish he may not see the sun rise to-miorrow—ah, ihen, I think, you may have something to say to him! Is it not. %o, madame? Will you refuse the opportunit “To g to my husband? bew d. “Yes!" he cried, with something of that poge which always characterized him, “to go to your husband.” ' she asked, CHAPTER XIX. The citadel of Cadi lies a little way beyond the ramparts upon the high- road to Barcelona. It was built by the Moors seven hundred years ago upcn the summit of a precipitoug cliff at whose foot runs a tributary of the T Ter. Styled impregnable for many centuries, it is now but a relic of the Moorish octupation, of so little ac- count in any scheme of a nation’s de- fense that neither fort nor artillery de- fends it. And yet the city is proud of this once goodly palace, and writers descant upon the beauty of court and fountain, and antiquaries delight in its traceries. View it whence you will, it dominates the valley, unlifting its towers and battlements above the deep abyss, and defying you at any distance to say by what ‘bridle path horsemen made its gates in the days of long ago. There are pine woods on the slopes be- s and minarets, whence the once calied the faith- stand up beyond its ram- arts 10oth-tongued guides point out to roman lovers the cloisters of the ated larems, from whose fountain a mountain spring still sprays its limpid jet. Time has dealt kindly with the citadel's walls, and shading them to the rock-brown hues has cast man's work and nature’s in the omne mold of its mellow harmonies. The curious traveler upon the valley road would pass the ramparts by but for that gilded dome, beneath which the Mohammedan ofice acclaimed his prephet. There is no garrison in this citadel, nor does the government deem it neces- to maintain there, in common more than a faithful seneschal d those who assist him in his lei- sured tasks. From thé day When the Moors were drivén out of Spdin until Codl arrested her Prince and charged him with treiason, the ramparts went undefended and the gates stood open. But this policy of the years passed in n hour in the face of’ révolution and i animosities. Through the long night which carried Esther upon so strange an errand, troops Swarmed up the bridle path and peopled the de- serted cgurtyards and shut the mighty doors. Torches were to be seen on every outstanding crag which com- manded . the precipitous track to keep and bastion. Gunners, delighting in the novel task, dragged mountain-can- non from point to point until they had them upon the ramparts. Within the citadel an activity no less significant soon changed the face of things and declared its purpose. Apartments, long given over to the winds and the rain, were hastily screened by tdpestries carried up from the treasure-house of the city. Lanterns glowed in court and cloister, fires were kindled upon open hearths. The great cliff, upon Wwhich the castle stood, might have been vis- ited by vast fireflies, which hovered cascades silver its massive ens) Mke jewels upon its outstanding crags, while & glimmering light upon the sky above could speak of upleaping flames and the mountain's activity. They had brought the Prince, under escort, to this busy scene a little after the hour of midnight; but dawn was shimmering upon when a carriage set down Esther at the cliff’s foot and Colonel Varez curtly bade her follow him to the heights. & reacherous path, madame, “if you are frightened, do not hesitate to tell me so. I will give you a hand at the \.’arvl‘gemus places, but you must be careful. She answered him that she was not afrald. The knowledge that she would see her husband, that, perchance, he knew of her coming, gave her a false courage and steeled her gerves. “I learned to elimb in Swit e:‘lanjl." she said; “I am sure I shall not mind it. Please go on; 1 am naturally very anxious.” He turned without a word, and began to stride up a rocky path which bridged many a chasm and bordered many a black abyss. Torches In glant crannies diffused their shifting th( upon that dizzy road, and, weaving shadows, they helped the climber to de- ceive himself. Here a there, where the track turned and a false step would have t the trs down headlong to the crags below, Colonel Varez offered Esther his nd and dragged her up. The valley shaped be- low them clear and di t in the wan light; a c ighty cup, 3 of smoke, river linking range range w e rippling silvi These fearsome sights Esther shut out from her eyes with more than a wo- man's resolution. Her desire to be with her husband defled all danger. She had the will to run; the delay tor- tured her; she was not conscious of fatigue; a cold breeze blowing down from the snows brought the blood to her cheeks and gave her strength. When, at the gate, Colonel Varez waited to tell her that the journey was done, he asked himself why he had not noticed her beauty before. She found him more sympathetic henceforth. “The Duke looks for your answer at the end of an hour, madame,” he said, while they crossed the drawbridge and stood upon the threshold of the keep. “He desires me to say that this is the only interview which will be permitted you. If you accept this condition, there is no other stipulation.” She said, “Yes, yes; I quite under- stand;” and a trooper at the Moorish gate, drawing back heavy bolts, ad- mitted them within the precinets. Here a whole company of the guard loitered at its ease jabout the fires which the cooks had kindled; artille. men upon the ramparts were brea z by the side of their The number and v . o guard impressed e words or threats ¢ stoed how clos how definite vas And this truth themselves could Gate upon gate € ad- vance; vast walls were 1 that they might reach other walls not less vast. The galleries, which once had echoed the Muezzin's call, swered to the sentr tread other time she would have sa was a picture from the dead ages, red- called from the glory of the East to reanimate these ed cloisters and rewrite their story: but dcubt forbade her. She pressed on as though delay n her. Wwere unendurable; the end was so near. They had lodged the Prince in an in- ner court of the citadel, named in the guide books “The Court of the Alber- ca,” upon either side of which there stood a capacious hall crowned by its cupola and paved with snow-white marble. Splendid draperies, deep in tone and wrought with Eas ures, defended the arches t ters and shut out the mount A fountain splashed in the the peristyle and cast its marble basin. Touched w rays of the morning sun tracery of arch and lar hidden even from the unol Esther was like ome carried into some scene of the Mooris and when her gui ¢ t back, and showe er which Arthur waited, she a moment upon the thr . though uncertain of b truth. The hall itseif scantiest fur re; a low c for chair and bed; showed a battered coffee jowl with a common rug spread out upon the color so sadly needed. I dimly thre h the w fell upon the face of a sleep whose cloak covered his 3 whose hand rested A upon the pave his sleep was d lips upon his ow starting up, he cau arms sther! Of And 1 fell asleep—yes ° been waking for thirty ho bed .is soft. Say that I an did not even dream!™ He laughed boyishly, and st ing her hands he sprang K her to the light. She feared h for she knew how greatly she . changed, and hiding her face > breast she would not look at “Let me read your story!” g raising her chin with a gent “Yes, you have been doubting, tle wife—you cannot hide It f the eyes tell me so! You ha g ‘If!" You are changed, ves you something which y ' had. Yes, I do not flatter life in your eyes now; once only the dream!" She her face from knowing not how to speak he sag ut he led her out int light, and putting his arm a began to pace the courtyard no secret lay between t was a common day of an une expected that they w ou are their natural mess course they threaten me ald to say so, Esther. you to come—he is waiting J tor you to bring h enough already upc your love for me I cannot, dear hus He d her wife. are men, and T will been a plot from the beginning. of it as that and sa laugh at it. Oh, I have —1 shall still trouble t He 3 and cc surance he began to rec again like one who be would supp 1 thought he and here I a t at a wife, belleve me! A very good ¢ kingdom st be sure of h esse. I do not k that old Xav hand is as strong as he imagines To-day show us. I shall ap to my countrymen—I do not believ vain. There is only one man agair me. It is he or I. This a little tired of wakes up in a hurry climb the hills. Tell me, Esther, h have they treated you—what happen to you on the road?” He broached a new subject thus quickly to forestall her questions. A clever actor, the peril of the role h played insisted upon a hearing the changing expression of his face, tha puckered brow and the quick glances to right and left in their turn betrayed his reservation Esther much they had to talk about and yét the heart of the subject defled her Arthur fenced too adroitly for that He desired that she should speak chief- 1y of herself. “Tell me,” he persisted, “what hap- pened upon the road—how did yéu leave the castle—who brought yag here?” b She answered as directly. ““When you left me in the bedroom, ¥ aid not lock my door—I was anxioufh Some one cried out in the hall and thought it was you. Then I wet down. The whole house was full of soldiers a they were quarreling. ¥ saw one who was quite a boy stabbed before my eyes. I must have faint The next thing I remember is being upon the back of a horse and seeing one of the men riding at my sid Vie-Dessos we stopped at the they gave me breakfast. Ido I was frightened of them. It me that they were the servar one elge.” “Of course they were! Old X r bought them for a capful of 2 and rewarded their fidelity with a He'll hang the lot If he catches to show his gratitude. At Vic-Dessos, 1 suppose, some one turned issars in a hurry and an officer wh o the geds t it was an outrag " he, Esther, what was s name The Count of Folx—a #0; but he told me so m that T am sure I do not know whe was." “It woul@ be the Count, all the sa an when he plays for a rew how Spaniar are good Mars; it is e the nat H not re nay caught. Most of these s h been bribe but I do not it bills o be somethir just now, but there better. 1 like the C. I believe would come over if I could see him Then I must not say unkind things of him? Certainly he was very good 0