PARTING OF THE VEIL.

Western Star, Issue 2253, 4 November 1898, Page 5

PARTING OF THE VEIL.

CHAPTER XXl.—(Continued) J " Sh—. what's that ?" The last plug of the bar not only pierced the wall, but a sound of falling masonary indicated that an inner portion of the wall had fallen. It was with great difficulty that, they withdrew the heavy bar. It was accomplished only by the removal of another portion of the masonry. But the instant the bar was removed the two men were struck, as if by some powerful blow, by a horribly offensive odor! It shot into the dark passage with great force, and more singular still the water gu'SjlcL forth in a tremendous torrent which threatened to engulf them where they stood. This was "a surprise for which it was impossible that they should be prepared. The glottis was spasmodically closed by the power of the stench, and staggering back, it was several seconds before they could realize the situation. But to both of them, speechless and confounded as they were, came the impulse of precipitous flight. They sprang forward none too soon. Not alone on account of the pestilential air which prevented breathing, but on account of the water, which in a moment more would fill the low passage and render flight impossible. That 150 feet had seemed a long distance when laboriously digging—but it was now interminable. Twice did Stub cry "My God!" in desperation, the water deepening in his path. One of them reached the trap and sprang up against it with such force as to throw it over, and both leaped out of the cellar. As quickly as possible the door was dropped, but not so soon but that the air of the restaurant was fairly impregnated with the odor. They breathed a purer air for a moment, and then passed out the rear door and doused their feet and limbs with water. A Then, returning to the restaurant they -. "/opened the doors and sat in the darkness, ./while the noxious atmosphere was being ~ purified. There they sat, with their pipes in their mouths, speechless, for a quarter of an hour. . It was Stub who spoke first: ..' .'/Speters, we better let our secrets go un- .,, tofd—we are evidently in bad odor." "Too serious a matter to joke on," replied the other. "By the way, Speters, can your doaf " waiter see much with his nose?" • ' '"He could smell that carrion with his / elbows," replied Speters in a surly one. "What are you going to do about it, 'then?" "WefT," said the philosophic wretch, "I shall tell him that I opened up a barrel of spoiled meat in the cellar—and removed it at night partially, and will take the rest out to-morrow night—and therefore close the place for repairs. I'll give him a lay-off." "What is that staff in the cellar, Speters—the water, what is it?" "Well, sir, that is rainwatar." •'Rainwater?" the old man said. "Yes, I can see through the whole thing. The wall incloses a cistern." "And what can a man want with a cistern fri there?" "That is what I have asked myself. And I have answered it. That cistern extends, .•probably under the entire vaults. I don't know how large that is, but not more than twenty feet square. You have noticed howhigh the building is on its foundations. Well, ; • now 1 call to mind something—there are no outside water pipes, and every rain gutter on the roof comes to this side." "And pours its water into that cellar," said Stub. "That's it; and we will probably find that thenoiso we heard in.the inside was the knocking off of the coating of cement. This body of water was a protection against thieves if auy were wretched enough to attempt to rob him by the underground process." "Yes, evidently a successful scheme," muttered Stub. "If we had plugged up that rat hole," continued Speters, "we would have been ruined, but, as it is, in the course of a year or • two the infernal stuff will have soaked a ■ 'passage through the earth we threw over it, and run to the sewer." "And nothing can bo done till then?" inquired Stub. . . "Not unless you want to take a bath in it. It is probably not over ten feet deep, and you could easily plunge down to the vent and shovel it openU You would only have to hold your breath for half an hour." PoorStub'let his head fall on his hands and pondered. His dream was almost he raised himself and ejaculated: "Speters, the stench! Tho stench I" "Yes. And what of it?" ' "What makes it?" ."Dead inenl" • . CHAPTER XXII. ■ j, , MR. PERKINS A.VD MR. WAKEFIELD HREE or four miles from tho old City of Florence, Italy, was a small villa or cottage, which at the beginning of the story « ->•»■ was vacant, and had beon for several years. It was on the road to Mianza, and about half way to that ancient hamlet whose history, like its inhabitants, have been swallowed by oblivion. The cottage belonged to an estate which had been in tho Italian courts for a generation or two, and it was the different style of doing business which the Yankee has which put Mr. Wilkins in it as a tenant. An American takes his comfort in a building built on injunctions and plastered with processes—especially a lawyer, who thereby has something to think about, furnished free of expense, or "thrown in as it were." But before Archie rests his iron-gray head within these storied walls, let us review somewhat.

When Archibald Wilkins, Esq., attorney, Boston, Mass., secured the services of the honorable, the doctor of laws, Adouija Pillgarlic, member-elect to represent Massachusetts in the American Congress, to whisper like a bird in the ear, the right ear, of the President, he knew well that .something would como out of it! What was the fee for, if nothing could come of it? And how could he get married, and go abroad with his sweetest of brides, unless something did come of it? Then, again, there was the handsome, truly the beautiful, Mrs. Smith-Wilkins, whose rhyraeful soul had often poured forth its sweet imagery in verso! How could she attain the attainable without the inspiration of Italia's tuneful fountains, etc.! . So, the mission to the Court of St. James having been spoken for, dear Archio took a consulate to Florence—where the fees nearly paid the rent! Yes, and so one day the "Ablano" cottage, on the road to Miauza, was occupied. The now comers found a villa which in America wjuld be "fair to middlin," for location, but which in Italy was "exquisitely picturesque." The family cousistedof three and another!

BY EVERETTW FISH

±a iue language of a neighboring grandee, there was one man, one woman who was pretty, and one who was a good deal prettier. He did not think of the maid—who was one of the family—because she was the only one in the house who could speak either French or Italian!

The first addition to the group was a teacher of modern languages—and the second was a horse. The former was a grizzled old gentleman whose present ancestor, at least, was not a washerwoman. The latter was griz zled too, and. as good an adept at keeping the flies off the dashboard as the professor was at parsing. "I always did want to get a fast horse.''said Archibald to Jennie, the morning of the purchase, and he got it too—when the horse was well tied! In one thing Hiss Helen Lamont much wisdom—in deciding to learn the language before attempting instruction from an Italian master. And thus six rather happy months went by. . It was a period in ivhich the darksome era of her Boston apprenticeship was only recalled as a bad dream. During these months she painted two pictures and sent them to the academy for sale. The values and prices we care little for, except that they were instantly bought and that there was competition in the purchase. But neither of them was "The Angel of Love" About the close of her first year she heard that Mr. Conrad North was in ill health, though no particulars came from the mother. Then the angel "Sympathy" whispered to her heart, and without definite impulse or plan she began a picture —"The Angel of Love." In a nice little letter to Winnie she made a note of this fact. And little "Winnie declared to herself that the picture would have for a theme, Helen Lamont. And the action would represent her as writing to a poor little lass from the northern seas! She was so proud of her letters from the "lady" that a coronet would have been beneath her for a few days after the reception ot one. Now, it so happened that Winnie told Hubert Pinnie of Helen's work on a now picture and something of its nature. Hubert related the matter to Mrs. North, and Mrs. North, not knowing its import to Conrad, told him. Thus, the young man received a littlo light. And it may be related that he almost immediately consented to go abroad.

"But you are so changed my son, that no sno would know you." "Do you think ;hat?' - he asked his mother, with a sudden gleam in his eyes—a light which she did not at once divine!

"I do. You have changed wonderfully." "But my voice?" "Was a round, full voice once—now a treble: why, Conrad, you do not know what a chango has occurred." "Then 1 shall go to Florence," he quickly responded. And so he did, without more delay than was necessary for the plan he had suggested to himself. There was a new warmth in his soul.

"No, the friends of eighteen mouths before would not know him. His hollowcheeks, his brilliant eye, his sp'.rituelle expression, the heavy beard, his tall and slender form, all marked the changes in the young capitalist, and it was very easy to complete the transformation—with the aid of art.

But there was a sadness connected with the change; the cough, the flush, the sleeplessness, the hectic fever—all noted by the loving mother. How suddenly we have passed from Florence to Boston? Let us return to the Italian city. On the whole, time passed very monotonously on that road to Mianza. The flowers, tho wild shrubs, uncared for; the old trees, and remains of a former country splendor, soon exhausted the "fever Americana" for something new. Helen often wished that she could catch a glimpse of some of that romance so closely associated with the Italian civilization. Her only resource was in the letters about new hospitals in Boston, and of tho wonderful surgical operations narrated in Winnie's glowing prose. And then came the word that the "school'' was no more! That Spanero had closed it up and had become a heavy patron of legitimate art. Entering the "directorate" of the academy! And what was Winnie to do? Why, she was to set up a school of painting of her own—yes, indeed—for little misses and masters of the wealthy! And who was to aid her in this wonderful undertaking? Why, the president of hospital, a director of the academy itself! Hero we are again in Boston—once more let us go back to Italy and try to stay there for a few hours. The Wilkinsos have a visitor. He is a gentleman from Boston and New York, and acquainted with Leon Spanero and several other Boston people. He was evidently a great admirer of the Spaniard, as he often- ; referred to his enterprise, generosity and commercial skill. Tho visitor's name was Perkins, and his business was that of a tourist and newspaper writer. And in speaking of the " school," Mr. Perkins vouchafed the information that its origin was for the sole purpose of giving employment to a number of young artists who were unable to support themselves otherwise, and that its subsequent development was a perfectly natural cousequenco.

One evening Mr. Perkins was with th|in at a Florentine opera, and in the course of the play something brought up several social matters in Boston. When Spanero's name mentioned Perkins remarked that a great many Boston mothers were taking the Spaniard's measure for a son in-law. Miss Helen remarked that ho was very wealthy.

"Yes," replied Perkins, "he is probably the wealthiest man in America. His wife, if he ever marries, will have every comfoit fancy could suggest. But I understand that he does not pay the slightest attention to the fair sex—at least not to the Boston daughters." "Indeed!" said Mrs. Wilkins, with arched brows. "Yes, I think it likely. He has told me that if ho ever married it would be to one whom he could aid with his wealth in attaining eminence in art. He has assisted several young men in that line lately." A soft crimson tint spread over the girl's face, and she withdrew from the conversation. Its import, or a suspicion thereof, was revealed to her. But she kept her own counsel. It must now be borne in mind by the roader that Miss Helen Lamont had every reason to believe some of this adulation of the Tiger, as did also Mr. Perkins. Had he not acted unselfishly with regard to herself? Had he not founded the hospital ? Had ho not transformed the little Gael into almost a new being—and was not this person simply stating that which she secretly supposed to be a fact ? And was it not true that his character had undergone a wonderful change since his assault upon Piunie? And may not Pinnie's peculiar development have produced on tho Spanish mind the impression of one of weak intellect? And a score of such questions suggested themselves to the girl. Tho result was that tho tone of her judgment was much milder. To love such a man never entered the field of tho possible—and yet who can reveal the future in a world whero to live

and to triumph over your fellows, are the two great aims of humanity. Mr. Perkins withdrew from Florence for a time. But he again entered the "country consulate," as they called the cottage, before the summer was through. They were glad to have him come. For a while at first they had barricaded their minds slightly against him, they soon found themselves only too glad to converse with a genuine American. Tourists were not so abundant in those days as at present. He was to dine with them one afternoon at 6 o'clock. So he took a stroll out of the city after lunch and during the middle of the afternoon turned up at the gate of the cottage garden. Miss Helen laid aside her brush and assisted Mrs. "Wilkins in entertaining the visitor.

V Th, g Ht'tle group was summoned into the cosy dining room by the maid., and a most unusual and cheery company it w as. quickened, and a though Perkins' quick eve took in that peculiar tre-

At 4 o'clock, or thereabouts, the remarkable vehicle of the consul, drawn by the remarkable horse, came lumbering up the road, bearing two gentlemen. One proved to be the consul himself and the other was introduced as Arden Wakefield, a railroad contractor in the states. Mr. Wilkins afterwards informed them that he came warmly commended to his friendly care by the Hon. Pillgarlic and other members of the government at Washington. He had come abroad on account of failing health, and bore upon his person letters to some of the most important families of Rome. He was a single gentleman, and was made most enthusiastically welcome by Mrs. Wilkins. Miss Helen Lamont felt strangely at his presence, nor could she tell why it was. She certainly was attracted by his eyes, or his bearing, or whatever it may have been, which from the very first speech between them, caused her to measure her words with care. It was with infinite wrath at herself that she chided Miss Lamont for that crowning act of simplicity, known as receiving an imuression "at first sisrht!" mulousness ot Helen, when she spoke to Wakefield, he made no special note of it. Mr. W. was evidently a man of station in the politics of his country. He was of sunny disposition, certainly, for already his ready wit had created the laughing necessary to every successful teaparty or dinner.

He was just in the middle of a trifling story when ho put his hand to his head, and said: "I am ill." Without waiting for a reply, he rose from the table and endeavored to reach the couch nearby. In this he failed, drooping on his knees, and then to the floor. He had faintad. Helen Lamont was the first at his side.

CHAPTER XXIII. WE LOVE INPERFKCTION. The reader who has an average aptitude for problems will discover in the person of Arden Wakefield one whom wo have met before; and how many will exclaim: "It is unreasonable." But we have the fnct before us. It was a fact, and what sickness had failed to do in the matter, art had accomplished—and had not overdone, as is so frequently the case. The hair was much darker, but bv no means black, and the eyebrows and heavy though short beard were much darker than the former mustache, which had now disappeared Again, it must be remembered that Lot one of the Wilkins 1 household had been intimate with Conrad North, and Mr. North had taken this into consideration Even on the occasion of his confession of love to Miss Helen, the dusk of the gloaming, or the deeper shadows of the night, bad mantled both of their faces. Wakefield was sick. Fortunately he was The introduction took place in the garden; and during the early conversation Mr. Perkins was at sea. He had expected some strangers to arrive at the villa before himself—and was lost when ho met Mr. Wakefield. This certainly was not the person! Ho entered the ruin of what had once been a little glass house and took from his pocket a letter. He then drew carefully from a wallet a picture—one of the "now-f angled,'' daguerreotypes, a wonder of that remarkable period of invention. The verdict was given without hesitation, "this is not the man—there will be another." The reader will bear in mind that from one to two months were then necessary to transport a letter across the ocean—that the first steamships were making their earliest not delirious—else the pain at his heart would have found utterauce. But for hours ho looked into the face of the girl who read to him, and chatted with him, with an unearthly yearning—a longing born of spiritual things. Ami yet he must ever avoid the language of tho eye in looking upon her. Conrad North was thoroughly master of himself. A few days after his singular attack of nervous prostration, Mr. Wilkins had occasion to forward a paper to Rome for Mr. Wakefield. He held it in his hand a moment, while standing near Mr. Perkins. Suddenly the latter grasped the arm of the consul, and looking intently at the indorsement on the back of the paper, said: "I thought so—he is in the Secret Service Department of tho United States Government!" "How do you know?" quietly asked Mr. Wilkins. "I know it," replied the other, evading the question. "Are you*" Mr. Perkins turned slightly red. It would not do to prevaricate, so without hesitation ho stated that most governments knew of him as a member of detective forces, but of late years ho had not been in the harness. "And 1 am not now," he stated, looking the consul squarely in the face. Mr. Perkins probably meant that ho was not now in government harness. The consul did not appear to be fully satisfied. TO BE CONTIjUTED.