The evening world. Newspaper, January 17, 1911, Page 17

reapers “The Faun”’ As Frolicsome As Faversham’s Legs, BY CHARLES DARNTON. Ewes Cold night for fauns, but with a remnant of the family gearth-rug worn where it would do the mort good and the warm welcome that he was Given at Daly's, Willtam Faversham had no reason to shiver for the fate of 4 Faversham's more than half-human play. A year ago, in “Herod,” Mr. Faversham dared his strange and wonderful Gnd last night, a¥ though to convince us that wonders will never cease £0 a8 he has his health and strength, he pl 8 on exhidl- laced his unvarnished } They looked like—well, say, old mahogany. Neither time nor the author It was: explained that worked any change in those well-remembered fect. 46 not necessa to goat's feet, and after tho definition of a faun | bad been “looked up” in a dictionary by Lord Stonbury, who wasn't “up” on fauhs, Mr. Faversham was tree to 0 ahead and ehow us how a faun a He acted so wall that we could almost believe he had two little horns oat of his head. Only the anticipative itmelight saved us from quick surprise | Phen he popped up from a garden Jar of geraniums just in time to stop Lord onbury from shooting himself, The Faun had no high and noble purpose in iseving the gentleman who had lost all his money at the races, He came rather | & true sport who could give “sure tips” on the races. He got these tips MM & green-bottle fly that could a ys be depended upon to furnish ine le information concerning the one best ' ‘king | ‘You could seo at once that the sportive ¥ was tnclined to be “sporty.” It not at all in the spirit of Hughes. ‘The English turf was so near that a Pareen-bottile fly could reach it in no time. To prove that ‘ REIT IONT; wes telling the oun ea hen ail ith about racing in MS ae ee — 1 and himself Particular, the let Lord Ston- jury take a shot at jn, ‘Tho bullet went ht through the ture and killed a bright young lamp e first act was very bright and wer, and Mr, Faversham grew more 4 more amusing when he got into evening clothes and joined the herd called “society.” He threatened to kick jout of his clothes at every step, and he atill hopped upon tadies with the same nimbleness that had marked his move- ments when his legs had nothing to fear but slivers. In fact, he was a faun after the poet's own heart both fm and cut of evening clothes, He pranced around with a Nght, springy tep, just as fauns do when they're feeling gay and chipper, and occasion- ally, in answer to the cail of the wild, he would leap into tho atr and whirl about In a way to make the “herd” stare, The proof of Mr. Faversham's exceed- ingly clever performance was to be found In the fact tha: he never seamed ridiculous. It was a performance that revelled In the joy of living. This was kept up even after ‘those uncivilized jegs had taken the vell, although by this wil Ms cece ned sees harder, tnas. Willlam Faversham In “The Faun uch as the Faun was obliged to do the somewhat conventional thing of telling truth and shaming the “herd.” In turning an old trick in a new way, the author's ingenuity deserted him oward the end. The first act was by far the best of tho three. In straightening at the love affairs of blundering mortals the Faun had little time to play. It to help out Lord Stonbury that he kissed Lady Alexandra. Her lips wero old, but they grew warmer after one or two applications, and meanwhile “heat ightning’’ played symbolically about the hor! The Faun listened to the htingale and the crickets, but we heard only the steamsh'ps. A younger and smailer woman than Miss Julle Opp might have made the | ‘aun's experiment seem m Interesting, But Miss Opp looked tter, robably felt better, after 4 escaped from the most unbecoming suffragette costume that was ever worn for the good of the cause. Although Lady Alex. mandra found thé woman's movement admirable exercise, the author didn't get pouch fun out of tt. | Martin Sabine was a rather stony Loni Stonbury, b pa Brank Hollins. Miss Nina Herbert gave a capital sko @nd Lionel Belmore was kicked down by the Faun w money lender who lost the {dea of the character by more than a nose. Of Mr. Faversham's unique success there can be no doubt. And tho play is welcome as air, for “Tho Faun” blows a fresh breath into the thes ut he had a good yalet h of a hopeful mother, great success as a Betty; Vincent's Advice to Lovers the Man Who Loves Her, GREAT many girls write to moe asking how they may find out the prospects and habits of young men who are paying them attention. | Now, as a matter of fact, {t 4s the duty of a girl's father or brother to know something of the life and antecedents ot any man who 4s calling upon her; to make sure thelr daughter or sister is not receiving attentions from some | man who has no earthly right to the acquaintance of | sweet, modest girl. | But, on the other hand, T quite understand that m siris are so unfortunate as not to have elther father or brother to protect them. ‘There {s just one thing for the: do in such a case, Let them ask the young man who {!s paying them at ation all they wish to know about him. If he ts honest and there is noth him to hide he will talk quite freely, And if he 1s a manly, straightforward jon he understand entirely the motives that prompt the girl to ques to | | 'tle for Christmas, He has never worn Would it be proper for him why he does not wear ft | Maybe the young man has worn 1t| when you did not see him, I do n think I would ask him about it if Tj were you. Undoubtedly he appreciated your gift, whether you have seen wear {t or not. oing West. GIRL who signs her to ask yp (OF, B.” “A young man has Med on me en and I am in love with him, A w weeks ago he told me he was going ‘West and this made me feel so bad I cried. Then he said he was ¢ ng. And since then he has not re mo nor paid any particular, Other Interests. attention to me. What do you think?” 1 GIRL who signs her letter , 6" I fear tho young man Is not in EAN ey youn Uth you, and when you showed you ‘tion for him so plainly he rable to keep away “I am very much fn love with a man, Io used to pay moa of attention, but re nly me interested in another negiect# me for her, What s: iy you, | vr do. | Wriat to Say | You will have to let the young man YOUNG man who signs his letters , #9 If he prefers the other girl to you 8, C."" writes: | there is nothing you can do, am in love with a irl and! 4 Birthday, fo announce our engag ease tell me what ts proper to GIRL who signs her letter "2, B. my to her when I sive her the ring.” A writes: | ‘There is no set formula for such an young man has called upon | \ , and I think your heart will be|me frequently. We are not engaged, present. His birthday {ts in March, Would it then be proper to give him a sot of gold cuff nics?” GIRL who signs her letter "P. E."| As long as you are not engaged to writes: the young man I should not give him “A young man has called upon ‘jewelry if I were you, Why aot give me frequently and I gave him a neck- him books? 4 be A Nichtie. yalty And there ts naked and unash ¢ letter arding of @ woman's n litle demands of every-day life, politely: ed how y. it slip out with ! y but he gave me a very nice Christmas | who does not do this, if ghe have even eneeets Gi. 42 1 NAY FD RD pees of the ils of Job, pia writes he self down a bore. A man’s 6: @ complaiing woman wears thin very soon, Ag a rule ho struggles heroically, | who mock your burning eyes, will try /win, then in this case sin bravely, cheer- But if 4s hard for the the stoutest heart. They leave you ex- tly, And the man who lo genus to look sorry long on @ eteady hausted, beaten, sick of spirit and soul, love the soldier in the sinner, diet of symptoms, and his tioughts are Your courage !s prostrat. ‘bless ‘his heart! THE RASCAL LEAVING THAT LADY HAS JURED HER IN SOME wAY— i ft witt SEE To Hey You! Come BACK AND SQUARE YOURSELF WITH THAT LADY OR ! WILL CALL THE Poticel iGive and Take CERTAIN R loving not wisely but too once ¢ But it extends not only to the! me, but to the as to locatlo AHA! JUST As \ THoucnT $ GAMBLING | VOT STAND T fur seo bile STRAIGHT. FO noted for}a here must diserimin t the law |ful 1 Is not enough. |ness, It does not require enlarging nor Vlade of fire burned ceaselessly In each Copyright, 1911, by The Press Publishing Co, (The New York World). OW MoTHeR! MoTHER! WHAT ON EARTH SHALL 1 Dot He's in THe CARDS WITH SOM6 MEN +__MoTHER !! HERE ,DEARIE, GET YouRseLr Hewt HAT = IT WAS LIKE, Borru FROM Bee Laws? Tne CANT Copyright, 1911, by The Press Publishing Co, (The New York World). OM WHAT HAVE 1 OONE THAT & IN- MUST SEAR TH OH - OH - = on! 11'S Just AweuL! i can'T STAND IT! ¢ A YEARS! acai AURA RR Tre niin“ tren ana brversanmarrsentrecem tena» mainte ORS apni eB teres ahengnesm-wins tans Alten SMOKING DEN PLATING 1 ag Ths is TERRIBLE, DAUGHTER! Sao THAT'S ENOUGH FoR me! — IT’S ALL | WANT To HEAR IE - INTERFERING RUNT! You MIND YOUR BUSINESS OR NLL BREAK Your FACE, THAT'S MY GIRL — We WERE PARTING FOR THE LAST TIME Be- FORE | GO WEST FoR jWhen “Truth” May Be| By Ethelyn Huston. \Draped in “Charity” pt to straggle wearily affinityward as | hunger for sympathy as humbly as the! un antidote, who creeps with bruised paw to Ned upon| So it 1s wise to practise up on the | your knee, ss” where the bully." When your nerves are a) B > one knows of those tortuous | lady was involved, | frazzle it {s not a time for the higher! paths of the Via Dolorosa but yourself. | ed the globe. | E h. And slang may be lamentable |It 1s only a wearying tale to ears re- | se, “perjured |and a lio bad morals, (But a man loves |luctantly attentive, A mother—and only | | sameness, and 4s pre t to kiss the a mother—will understand and suffer more tn this than at first| lips that have been brave enough to lle with you as long as the pulse halts a }and laugh, and his love pays the warmer falters on with its Mttle irregular re med," gounds | tribute to the soldier In petticoats, ord, All others will sympathize for “Bully 18 concise, express and awhile, but they will weary tnevitab! sily sald, A sigh of weariness or paln| $0 it 1s only Jeft you to hug your pain | an switch {nto that electrically cheer- | and lie cheepfully and sm: you can, | le word with surprising smooth-|In the old tale of Vathek, @ little knife- Je: #. It does not demand the | heart, So let your pain be hidden in al if resigned inquiries | yours, ind extent of your phy-| And you will be surprised to find how ‘a-empha 1al_ mecha fflietio It 1s brief, convincing | shockingly easy it grows to lie, You ona of truth nd to th int. And, as I have said, | form the Pain grips you-tut you 19 the word | Its inele ll be forgiven you and| stand at attention when the test calls 1 are, jet pyour friends rise up and call you you, and your reply is clear and steady The woman | blessed. “Bul! | Pain and suffering aro hard to bear.| And 1 have an idea the recording an- |The long day and the long, long night, Kel will hastily make a marginal note mpathy for | W and your dark- | to the effect that ‘the offense was holy ons | that she hath committed.” If to le be n the world si | ness warps itself into distoried de: you will and you oa," ‘Be a law unto yourself, Rear an outer ~ semblance of smiling fortitude, and you will ft that you can lean upon ft as upon the strong arm of a friend, wee January Thaw. Frances Whitman Roberts, DAY was dark and col BSTE ¥ Winds were bolsterous and bold, n were the skies and drea Roughly nipptin Last night, while the cold world slept, Soft Into the air there crept. Hints of spring—''spring o' the year,” g nose and ear. From the apple boughs the bright Diamond drops are falling; Through the forest vistas white Woodland votces calling, Question whether spring is here, If her footsteps draw more neAr O'er ice-bound streamtets brawling, Magic mildness everywhere— Winter's retgn seems really don Bird notes sounding through the alr, Eaves are dripping in the sun, Sweet beyond |magining— ‘This midwinter giimpse of spring, Gone ere scarce begun. eee an | ST ET l apeememananaaaant Another ARSENE —i_%_%§ LUPIN Story “The Hollow Needle’ By Maurice Leblanc (Copyright, 1910, by Maurlee Leblanc.) SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING CHAPTERS, Ateene Lupin, the “thie? genius’ of France, fe the chateati of the Counterde tosrres Lasdore trelet, a ementern- year-old solvolly, solves | the mystery of the theft, In revenge Lujin, kid. | with whom heh fiven in Isicdore's | traprdinary weapon with which destiny | | has endowe feoreted {heir treasure, treasure ls tn Isidore’ goes in earch of the | capable of explanation so long a | truth remains in the shadow. though the resources of his gentus be, atrvlet's. father, Arse also | kidnap the beautiful’ niece of De (Gresrres) y ue fallen tn lore. | Iaidore, aided wy youn joule Valineras, tescues the two frie cera Vatmeray maeriee Raymond. article purports to tell the lis ms hiding place, known where the olden kings of France {A_eipher cite to. (his possnasion.) — Heautreiet mphiet that tells of the Hace’s whereabouts, As he is about to learn the wecret he is baffled by Lupin, Beautrelet contin. ties bie gearcn for the low Neetie” hiding iance, ‘The quest carries him to the Norman sa const, ‘There he finds, on castle of add art. | eriteuce of a huge su ‘also runs out un promontory, a little ing it he finds ferranean hiding place that ovoan tteelf. CHAPTER IX. (Continued.) HO could discover ft? Who could ever learn the impen- etrable secret of the Needle? Nobody! And Lupin becomes that sort of really disproportionate be- ing whom we know, that mirac InAn:te they cannot @uffice for the mad struggle which he maintains against soclety. He needs other, more ma- terial resources, Ho needa a sure place of retreat, he needs tho cer- tainty of impunity, the peace that al- lows of the execution of hie plans. Without the Hollow Needle Lupin ts incomprehensible, a myth, a character in a novel, having no connection with reality, Master of the secret—and of such a secret!—he becomes simply a man like another, but gifted with the power of wielding in a superiof manner the ex- him, 80 the Needle was hollow, rt nel to discover how one ob- access to It nthe sea, obviously, ‘There must n the side of the offing, some fis- ‘© where boats could land at certain irs of the tide, But on the side of the land? Beautrelet lay until ten o'clock at night hanging over the precipice, with his es riveted on the shadowy mass formed by the pyramid, thinking and pondering with’ afl the concentrated effort of his mind, then he went down to Btretat, se- lected the cheapest hotel, dined, went | up to his room and unfolded the docu- | the word De | two letters figured | ment, It was the merest child's play to him now to establish its exact meaning, He at once saw that the three vowels of the word Etretat occurred in the first line, fn thetr proper order and ne ary intervals, This first line now read as follows; e€.@.@.. etretat.a., What words could come before Etre- tat? Words, no doubt, that referred to the position of the Needle with regard to the town, Now tho Needle stood on the left, an the west. He ransacked his memory and, recollecting that wes! ely winds are cailed vents d’aval on t! coast and that the nearest porte was known as the Porte d\Aval, he wrote dow “En avald'Etretat . a The second line was that containing nolselle and, at onc ing, In front of that word, the seri of all the vowels that form part of the Words Ia chambre des, he noted the two phrases . aval d'Etretat, La Chambre des Demoiselles.” ‘The third line gave him more trou ble, and it was not until some gropin that, remembering the position, near the Chambre des Demotselles, of the Fort de Frefoase, he ended by almost npletely reconstructing the docu- ment “En aval d'Btretat, La Chambre des Soua le Fort Frefosse, Demoiseltes, L’Aiguille creua ‘These were the four great formula: the essential and general formu: which you had to know, By means of them, you tumed en aval, that is to say, below or west of Etretat, entered the Chambre des Demoiselles, in all probability passed under Fort Frefo! and thus arrived at the Needle, How? By means of the indications and measurements that constituted the fourth lne, ‘These were evidently the more spectal formulas to enable you to find out- let through which you made your way the r 1 to the Needle, autrelet at once presumed—and his surmise was no more than the logical consequence of the document—that, if there really was a direct communication between the land and the obelisk of th le, the une ‘ound passage m tart from the Chambre des Demolselle pass under Fort Frefosse, descend pe FE feet of and, by means of a tunnel con- trived under the rocks of the sea, end at the Hollow ede ntrance to the un- Did not the two letters D and F, so plainly cut, point to ft and admit it, with the ald, per- some ingentous piece of me Tho whole of the next morning Tst- lore strolled about Etretat and chatted with everybody he met, in order to try and pick up useful {nformation, At last, In the afternoon, he went up the clift, Disguised as a satior, he had made himself still younger, and, in a pair of trousers too short for him and a fishing Jersey, he looked a mere scape- grace of twelve As soon as thirte, ed the cave he knelt down be letters, Here a disappointmen It was no use his striking them, pushing them, man’ ting them In every way; they refused to move, And it was not long, in fact, before he be that they were really ur and that, therefore, they ism, ntrolled no And yet—and yet they must mean something! Inquiries which he had made in the village went to show that o one had ever been able to explain thelr existence and that the Abt re t, in his valuable Httle book on k had also tried in vain to soly t 8 little puazle, But Istdore knew what the learned Norman aret did not know, name eologist that the same the document, on the line containing the indications, Was it 4 chance coincidence? Impos- Well, then—— fdea so reasonable, so simple that he did not doubt Its correctness for a second, Were not that D and that F the initials of the two most important words in the document, the words vepresented—together with the Ne | the essential stations on the road to be | followed: the Chambre des Desmotseties t the | and Fort Frefosse: D for Demotselles, F for Frefosse: the connection was too remarkablo to be a mere accidental fact. that case, the problem stood thusd the two letters D F rep t the relat tion that exists beween the Chambre des Demotselles and Fort Frefosse, thé single letter D, which begins the Mme, represents the Demoiselies, that 1# to say, the cave in which you have to begin by taking up your position, and the single letter F, placed in the mid- die of the line, represents Frefoese, that is to say, the probable entrance to the underground passage. Between these various signs are two more—first, a sort of irregular rectangle, marked with @ stripe in the left bottom, corner, and, next, the figure 19, signs | which ob#fously Indicate to those inside the cave the means of penetrating be- neath the fort. . The shape of t rectangle puzzled Isidore. Was there around him, on the | walls of the cave, or at any rate within |the reach of his eyes, an ‘ription, |anything whatever, affecting a rectan- gular shape? Hoe looked for a fong time and was on | the point of abandoning that particular | scent when his eyes fell upon the Iittle | opening, plerced in the rock, that acted a window to the chamber, ow, the edges of this opening fust formed @ rectangle; corrugated, uneven,s clumsy, but still a rectangle; and Beauey | trelet at once saw that by placing hiep | two feet on the D and the F carved [in the stone floor--and this explained) the stroke that surmounted the two: lettors in the docwnent—ho found him? | self at the exact height of the window!) | He took up his position in this place) and gazed out. The window looking: | landward, as we know, he saw, first, the path that connected the cave with i jthe land, a path hung between two precipices; and, next, he caught sight’ of the foot of the hillock on which the! fort stood. To try and see the fort, Beautrelet leaned over to the leftand {t | Was then that he understood the mean- i ing of the curved stripe, the comma, : that marked the left bottom corner Mm | {the document; at the bottom on the left hand side of the window, @ piece’ of flint prejected and the end of it was curved Ike @ claw. It suggested a regular shoot mark, And when a man applied bis eye to this mark he | saw cut out on the slope of the mound facing him a restricted surface of land occupied almost entirely by an old brick wall, a remnant of the original Fort Frefosse or of the Roman oppldum built on this spot. Beautrelet ran to this piece of wall, | which was, perhaps, ten yards long. It | Was covered with grass and p | There was no indication of any ki | visible. And yet that Mgure 19? He returned to the cave, took from his pooket a ball of string and a tape | measure, tied the string to the flint j corner, fastened a pebdle at the nine- teenth metre and flung it toward the land side, ‘The pebble at most reached, | the end of the path : | “Idiot that I am!" thought Heautre- | let. “Who reckoned by metres in, those days? The figure 19 means 19 fathoma—' | or nothing! Having made the calculation, he rar* out the twine, made a knot and felt, about on the plece of wall for the ex- act and necessarily one point at whieh! | the knot, formed at "7 metres from the window of the Demoisvlies, should’ touch the Frefosse wail. In a few mo- #9 | ments the point of contact was estah- 7 |Mehed. With his free hand, he noved: | aside the leaves of muilela that hac | |wrown In the Interstives, A cry @s- * |caped him, ‘The knot, which he eld yy seed down with his forefinger, was = 1 the centre of a ilttle cross carved in P| |rellef on @ brick, AnA the sign that © | followed on the figure 19 In the doeu- i ment a cross: | It needed all his will-power to oen- i | trol the excitement with which he was ‘ overcome, Hurrledly, with convulsive | fingers, he clutched the cross and, préssing upon it, turned it as he would he turned the spokes of a wheel. ‘The brick heaved. He redoubled his? effort; it moved no further, Then, | Without turning, he pressed harder, | He at once felt the brick give | And, suddenly, there was the click of |@ bolt that 1s released, the sound of a ¢ lock opening, and, on the right of the * brick, to the width of about a yard, the wall swung around on a pivot and revealed the orifice of an underground passage, Like a madman, Beautrelet seized e+ fron door in which the bricks were sealed, pulled it back violently end closed {t. Astonishment, delight, the ‘4 fear of being surprised, convulsed his i face @o as to render it unrecognizble. | x He beheld the awful vision of all that had happened there, in front of that’ door, during twenty centuries; of all, those people, initiated Into the great $ | » who had penetrated through’ a4 | s, Gauls, Romans, Nor a mans, Eng! n, Frenchmen, barons,’ ‘st dukes, kings—and, after all of them, x Arsene Lupin—and, after Lupin Aim- self, Beautrelet. He felt that his bratt was slipping away from him. His eye lids fluttered, He fell fainting ead rolled to the bottom of the slepe, to ig of the precipice ask was done, at least the nask which h able to accomplisa alone, j with his unaided resources | That evening he wrote a long letter to the chief of the detective giving a faithful account of the r of his Investigations and vo secret of the Hollow Needle, He asked, for his assistance to complete bis " | Work and gave his address, 4 € While waiting for the reply, he spent! q two conaccutive nights in the Chambre 4 des Demoiselles. He spent them over- with fear, his nerves shaken with & terror which was increased by the sounds of the night, At every momen he thought he saw shadows approach in his direction, People knew of his presence in the cave—they were com- ing—they were murdering him! His eyes, however, staring madly de- fore them, sustained by all the power of his will, clung to the plece of wall On the first night nothing stirred, but ‘on the second, by the light of the stars and a slender crescent moon, he @aw the door open and figures emerge from the darkness; he counted two, three, four, five of them. It seemed to him that those flve men were carrying fairly large loads He followed them for a litle way, They |out straight across the felds to the Havre road; and he heard the sound of @ motor car driving away, ‘He retraced his steps, skirting a 8g farm. But at the turn of the road that ran beside {t he had only just time to scramble up & slope and hide