HER MASTERPIECE.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXIX, Issue 250, 19 October 1908, Page 6

HER MASTERPIECE.

By~HEKRY C. ROWLAND.

(CHAPTER I.—(Continued.) - From beneath there arose the snarling tones of the concierge. The man's voice J had raised in volume, and carried an-in-tensely disagreeable note of anger. Starting very high in pitch, his tongue rattled down the scale until, his breath was almost exhausted,' when it broke into a growl which was partly groan, after the manner of the low-class French if excessively exasperated. Forest's sensitive f»ce clouded. " He's got no business to talk like that; he's using very bad language," he began, when suddenly a woman's voice interrupted with a stream of rapid, explanatory words. The straight brows of the mayor knit, and he tilted his head toward the shaft. Chew and Hammersmith exchanged glances. " By Jove! " said Hammersmith. " I believe that the beast is rowing that girl! " " I'm afraid that he is," said Forest, nervously. " Perhaps I ought to go down." "No," said the mayor, curtly. " I will go down. This is my row. &feh a thing as mixing up the girl in it never occurred to mc." He turned to the stairs, going down two at a time. The three men looked at one another with expressions of mingled amusement and anxiety. "Your friend the mayor," observed Mr. Chew, " is apt to infuse the monotony of your life with a certain active interest, Luce." " I hope that he will not lose his temper," said Forest, nervously. " I hope that he will," drawled Hammersmith. " That concierge of yours is a sulky brute. He's always half-full of sour wine, and he opens the door when ho feels like it. Listen! " The tirade of quartier argot was choked abruptly into an odd, gurgling sound, accompanied by low, fierce tones carrying a ■ strong accent of Indiana French. Two or three sharp, thudding sounds followed, then a smothered yelp. " Taysay voo, cochong! " arose the fierce tones of the mayor. "Alley voos ong! Fennay votre bouche, ou je voo cassaray la tay te! " Clattering steps swift in descent followed, then a blast of patois from the court below. "My word! I believe that he beat him! " cried Chew, ecstatically. " Hooray f on the mayor! " drawled Hammer«mith. " It's a good thing that he is rich," said Chew. " Every American who comes to France beats a man once; then, unless he's a millionaire, he swears off and takes up some economical form of sport, like ballooning. It's the close season on the beggars all the year round! " The voice of the mayor talking earnestly floated up the shaft. " Who is that girl ?" asked Chew. " Does she live in the building? " " Yes," said Forest. " I've seen her once or twice. She has got one of those studios downstairs. " Alone ? " " There were two of them, but the concierge toldjne that the other girl had gone back to America. I didn't care much for the way that he spoke of them. -I fancy there haven't been many five franc pieces finding their way in his direction from them. ' Two starvelings,' he ■ called them, ' with the airs of countesses.' " " Hope the mayor beat his head in," growled Chew. " Thirty francs to spit in a man's face, seven hundred and fifty to hit him, besides damages, and nothing at all to kill him with a motor-car if you are insured, which, of course, you are," said Hammersmith, reflectively. " When I get a grudge against a man I am going to lay for him around the corner of his street with my car." The returning mayor interrupted the conversation. As he joined the others they observed that his strong features wore a troubled, expression. " I'm sorry I did that," he said. "What did you do?" asked Forest. "I mean the elevator—oh, the concierge? That part of it was obligatory. I only took him by the neck and kicked his pants. But I am afraid that he will make it unpleasant for that girl on account of the elevator."'. " And the pants," said Mr. Chew. "No doubt," said the mayor, glumly. "He thinks I'm crazy. He told the girl that I was a madman, and that she should have restrained me —but, then, what in thunder could I do ?" The mayor's voice was peevish. " Sit in that cage all night? Come on, Luce, let's go in and have a drink! I'm hotter and madder than I have been since the night of my election! " Forest led the way to his apartment. The mayor looked around. The vexed expression vanished from his face and was replaced by one of keenest interest and pleasure. "Fine—oh, fine! " he exclaimed. His keen eyes took rapid note of everything about the place, flitting from one object to the next in a swift examination which missed nothing; the fine oW pieces of furniture, the fragments o> tapestry, the studies stacked agamst the wall or hung carelessly here and there, the unfinished nude \ipon the easel, the plaster casts, knick-knacks, curios, all were gathered in a delightful realisation of a vague, preformed mental picture. " Grand! " he cried. " Perfectly splendid! Where's Trilby?" "She went out just before you arrived," said Forest. He laid his slim hand affectionately upon the broad shoulder of his former room-mate. " Glad to see you aboard, old chap, as they say in the navy." He walked to a Deautifully carved sideboard, converted from an ancient Breton lit-clos. "Cognac, absinthe, champagne, Irish, Dubonnet." He glanced at his friend. " Got any rye ? " asked the mayor. "By George, I believe I have! " cried Forest, in a surprised tone. " Clarence Van Ness stopped with mc for a week last spring when he was over, and I believe he left some. Tβ. forgotten all about it." "Do ~ou mean to tell mc," said the mayor, in a tone of mock reproof, "that you have had rye whisky in your closet since last spring, and never felt the need of it? Lucian Forest, you are sadly denationalised! " He spoke jestingly, and was, therefore, surprised at the sudden flare of colour in the face of his friend. He glanced inquiringly at Hammersmith, then toward Chew. Both men had grown a trifle red. " One—ch —very soon adapts oneself to—eh—foreign customs," said Hammersmith,.a little awkwardly. " The climate of Paris .does not permit of the use of much distilled liquor," said Chew, holding up the divan beneath •which. Forest was groping for the forgotten rye. "It's too high tension,

you know; 'beaucoup d'effervescence.' One needs a nerve-sedative, rather than a stimulant." "Naturally; of course," said the mayor, feeling awkward, he could not have told wily. It occurred to him that possibly one of the men was given to alcoholic excesses; he never thought of his careless remark concerning the denationalisation of Forest being the cause of the trifling embarrassment. In an ef : fort to change the topic his eye fell on the tea-table. "Hello!" he exclaimed. "You've been having a tea? Sorry I didn't arrive a little sooner." "Only ourselves," said Forest. "We were regaling ourselves with a little mint," said Hammersmith. The mayor looked puzzled. "Mint?" he asked. "That's a new one on mc. Mint what? A hot julep, or something like that?" "Nothing as exciting as that," said Chew, with an amused look. "Mint tea. It's a sort of sedative, you know. A quieter." A flash of comprehension crossed the mayor's keen face. He glanced up at Chew, then laughed. "Oh, I see! You fellows were out last night. I didn't understand." The three men laughed. "Isn't that the American of it?" asked Forest, straightening up with the whisky in his hand. "The mayor cannot conceive of three young men requiring any sedative unless recovering from the effects of a spree. No, you hairy savage from out of the West, we drink these decoctions as a steady thing, simply for the greater tranquility of our nerves. They keep us from smashing elevators, you see, and killing concierges and otherwise breaking the laws of the land." "Oh!" The mayor grinned. "Perhaps you had better feed mc a bucket or two, Luce. Seriously, though, I'm sorry to have brought the atmosphere of strife into your peaceful, tea-drink-ing, artistic existence; but please don't forget that it ia strictly my row, and that you are not to give it another thought. Damn that dumb-waiter!" he concluded, with heat. The three men laughed. The mayor glanced around with a half-vexed smile. "You fellows seem to think that it's a. fine joke!" he protested. "Suppose it had been one of you; what would you have done?" "I think that you did exactly the right thing," said Chew. "Frankly, I'm filled with admiration. It simply would not have occurred to mc. Smothered by European convention, I fancy. "That's it," said Hammersmith. "You've no idea how you have refreshed mc, Mr Ogilvie. The whole thing was great! Delicious! So unusual, yet so absolutely reasonable! I would not' have missed it for anything! So truly American, was it not?" He glanced at the others. A furrow drew itself between the straight eyebrows of the mayor. Here were thiee American men, all entirely free to enjoy the broad and liberal ideas of their own country, delighted at his Americanism, as they characterised it. "I'm afraid that we do become a bit subdued after being over here for a while," said Hammersmith. "Really, a man should go home every three or four years jnst to get infused with new strenuosity. I have taken a lot of different cures in Europe, but, as a matter of fact, I don't know that any of them has the same reinvigorating effect as a visit to America." struck the mayor that this was but damning the Mother Country with faint praise, yet the good intention was sincere if anemic. "I don't agree with you," said "The last time I went over I came back and had nervous prostration. It was a whole year before I was able to work again. Over there, when people learned I was an artist, they would say, 'What .magazines do you illustrate for?'" Chew and Hammersmith laughed, 'he mayor looked puzzled, but said nothing. "Was the girl in the elevator an artist. Luce?" he asked presently. "Yes," said Forest. "She has a studio down-stairs." "1 can't get her face out of my mind," said the mayor. "I don't think that I ever saw a woman who looked like her. did any of you notice," he asked slowly, "how poor she looked?" "Yes," said Hammersmith. "It is a pity. Especially as she appeared to be a lady." ' "Slip is a lady," said the mayor. "Do yon know"—his pleasant voice lowered —"I can't get away from the uncomfortable idc-a that that girl was—hungry!" "Beastly thought!" said Hammersmith. "She certainly is hard up," said Chew. "Her shoes were all gone and wet, and her gloves had been mended until there wasn't much glove left." He glanced at the artist. "Do you suppose that we could find out anything about her, Lucian—and—and help her, perhaps?" His clear complexion coloured slightly. "I don't know," began Forest doubtfully. "It's pretty hard over here for a man to do anything for a woman without the—eh—motive being misunder stood '" "What?" cried the mayor. "Surely, not between Americans!" "Well, then, how would you go at it?" asked Forest. "One can't very well say to her: 'Madam, you look hard up. Permit mc to offer you one hundred francs.'" "I'll put up the relief fund," said Chew, "if somebody else will conduct the presentation. There is no doubt that she is desperately poor, and she our countrywoman and all of that; but if I went up to her and she turned those yellow eyes on mc and that tiger-cubby face, I think I'd bolt. Our people are so different from Europeans; you can tip anybody over here, from your garcon to the premier." "It's not a nice job," said the mayor, "but"— his mouth closed firmly—"l bei lieve that I will tackle it." The three men looked at him in sur- ; prise. I "What, offer to help her?" asked ■ Hammersmith. "Good for you! I wouldn't have the courage; you Eec, her , dress was pathetic, but she wasn't!" "That is true," said the mayor, "but, 1 hang it, she looked hungry!" I The others stirred uncomfortably. "Don't suggest such a thing, Tom," i said Forest. "My word! think of three ■ well-fed men dwadling before this fire with a hungry girl down-stairs; and an • artist at that!" ' "And a lady," said Hammersmith, • "for she was that." "And a beauty," said Chew, "for I , begin to think that she was that; too."

"And," said the major, slowly, "an American!" "Oh, I don't believe thai it's really as bad as that," said Forest. "Listen!" From.- somewhere beneath there arose the jabber of the concierge. The,man's rough, irritating voice rose snarlingly. Ogilvie glanced at Hammersmith, whose high features wore an expression of ex.treme annoyance. Chew's genial face was growing red, and his eyes beginning to darken. The mayor looked next at his host; JTorest's sensitive features •were pale from anger and excitement. "That swine has gone and got drunk and come back to abuse that poor girl!" he cried, and leaped to his feet, but the mayor sprang up at the same moment and laid his hand on the artist's shoulder. "Sit down, Luce," he said quietly. "Remember, this is my row. I will go down and subdue that animal, and this time I Tvill do it right!" He stepped out of the room and turned to the stairs. Down below the half-drunken concierge was snarling and growling like an angry cur, and as Ogilvie ran down the winding stairs ne heard the man seize a door by the knob and shake it violently. Half-way to the bottom, his. etep was apparently recognised, for there came the clatter of heavy boots swift in descent, a snarling word which sounded like "Apache!" and the rattle of the man's tongue in the court outside. (To be continued daily.)