IVI may well say "act," for it was acting that was now necessary. I smarted from her blow, I saw in her a vicious, dangerous fury, with a devil snarling in her, but I had nothing but pity for her. How could I be angry? She was desperate, but it was the frenzy of an irresponsible spirit that urged her. And, moreover, she stood in my own bride's image, beautiful, splendid, virile. She was, in outward seeming, the woman I loved best in all the world. I had, I insist, nothing but the tenderest pity for her whom I must now, if I had the power, harry, harass, torment and destroy. But to accomplish this I had to play a part. I could show no trace of kindness or consideration. So I nerved myself and simulated rage when never was rage further from my heart."Oh, you would, would you!" I cried through my teeth, as villains do upon the stage. "Well, then, Miss Edna, it's time to talk honestly to you. I am in love with Joy, and I do hate you with all my heart! I would free Joy if I could, but you and the doctor are too much for us. I know what she's had to endure from him in your own person and her own, and rather than let her go through that outrage again, rather than let his lips touch hers, whether you consent or not, I'll kill you both. I can't touch her, for I love her, but I'm going to kill you, now!"With that I drew a revolver from my pocket and took steady aim at her. Oh, I gave her time! The one thing I was afraid of, then, was that she would dare me to shoot. Luckily her nerve failed her.She screamed and ran to the door like a deer. She screamed as she dashed up-stairs, tripping over her gown, calling wildly for Leah to come and save her. She screamed again and again as, giving her ample time to escape, I followed after her, shooting once, twice, thrice, stumbling up after her, muttering histrionic curses. There was no doubt that I had frightened her! But could I keep it up till she was literally beside herself with terror?"Break the bone and let it heal right again!" I kept repeating to myself. But to break it—ugh! I shuddered and nerved myself again.She had run into her room, slammed the door and locked it. I threw myself upon it and beat upon the panels with my hands. Again she screamed—the sound sickened me. I cried out that I would kill her, that there was no use in resisting, that I would break down the door. I shouted hoarsely enough, there was no need of pretending, now.She came to the door and wailed."Spare me!" she cried. "Save me, Chet! You were wounded and fainting when I took you into my house. Didn't I do everything for you? How can you! How can you! What have I done?"I fired again to stop her. I couldn't stand that reproach. Her screams broke out again. I could hear her overthrowing tables and piling them madly in front of the door.Then her shrieks stopped suddenly, and I heard her running here and there as if searching for something. I heard drawers pulled open and emptied upon the floor, I heard chairs falling. Then there was an instant's lull.Next, a muffled shot rang out. A bullet ripped through the panel of the door and buried itself in the mahogany wainscoting, missing my head by barely an inch. She had found her revolver—I had forgotten about that. The game was getting serious.But now it was more necessary than ever to finish. I went down into the hall and shouted to King. He appeared at the dining-room door, his eyes as round as glass marbles, his mouth open."Get an ax, King, and bring it up here, quick!"I went up again and, putting my pistol cautiously to the hole in the panel, fired another blank cartridge. My shot was immediately answered by her revolver, but the bullet went wild.King came blundering up the stairs with the ax, showing a white mouthful of teeth. I had never thought it possible for him to show so much excitement, but he was quite wild. I took the ax and struck a heavy blow at the panel, splitting it open. Had I really wished to break down the door immediately, I would have aimed at the lock. But I wanted to draw her fire, and to torture her to the limit of suspense and fear.She screamed again as the wood was ripped into splinters, and two more shots were fired in quick succession, only one of them going through the door. She had spent four cartridges now, and, as she held the last one, I had to act quickly so that she would have no chance to reload."You go down-stairs, King," I commanded. "Wait for her when she runs out. I'll chase her outdoors. She has only one shot left, so you needn't be afraid of her. I'll get that bullet, all right. Scream at her, scare her to death if you can, but don't touch her. If you do, by God, I'll kill you!"He stole noiselessly down the stairs and disappeared. I tried another panel with the ax, but, as she was clever enough not to shoot, I reloaded my first pistol, and, taking what risk there was without thought, I seized the ax again and with one fierce blow smashed the lock to pieces. With the concussion the door fell partly in. I dropped the ax, put my shoulder to the door and swept the barricade inward, darting quickly through with my pistol raised.[image]She was handsome—terrible.She was handsome—terrible. Frightened as she was, she had control of herself yet, and was magnificently defiant, breathing in quick gasps with her mouth open, her bosom heaving, as if she were suffocating. Her embroidered waist was half torn off and hung away from her neck, revealing her brown-white breast, or perhaps she had torn the bodice open herself for air. Her golden wreath was gone. I saw it on the floor, trampled out of shape. Her hair had fallen over her shoulders, but its disarray was lovely. Her filmy, sparkling gown was rent and spotted from her falls.She had taken refuge behind an overthrown table and stood with her revolver ready. Over her head was a drifting cloud of smoke, about her a wild confusion of disordered furniture. A shaft of sunlight played upon her disheveled costume. In the stable, I heard the dogs barking frantically.So much I observed in one flash—the picture will always be with me as distinct as a photograph—but I had no time to speak, or even to think what I should do next, for, after that momentary pause, she bent forward deliberately and fired at me point-blank.I felt a sting on my left arm where her bullet grazed, but, without stopping to find whether I was hurt or not, I fired with both pistols at once, and went forward at her. The sound of the double shot in the closed room was terrific. Her eyes, staring and fascinated, kept on me for an instant as if she were paralyzed, then she screamed again—her voice rivaled the pistol shots—and, suddenly pushing the table with all her might against me, she ran for the door. As she passed, I shot again. The din was maddening.It was not my intention to finish with her there, though, and again I gave her a chance to escape, driving her before me. As she dashed out she brushed against a framed Madonna upon the wall and it came crashing down. She stumbled on the threshold—I thought she would never get away—and, moaning pitifully, she half ran, half fell down the stairway.It was a dirty piece of business. I was sickened by it. But, having gone so far, I had no thought of stopping till I had accomplished my object. I gave her a moment's time, therefore, and then, leaving that horrid smoking chaos in her room, I followed her.She had gone out the front door and turned the corner of the house, making, by some fatal impulse, for the stable. The barking of the collies had ceased, but as I got to the yard I heard it recommence in a higher and more violent key. It seemed incredible to me that she had sought refuge in the stable, but as I looked, I saw the great door rolled shut. When I came up to it, King came out of his cabin room.King came out; but he was no longer the smiling, unctuous Celestial I had known. In that yelping, screaming clamor, I stopped to look at him in surprise.He had fastened the mask upon his head and held the cymbals in one hand. With the other he dragged a package of fire-crackers six feet long, braided together in quadruple rows—there were as many there as in a hundred of the common Fourth-of-July packages. It was such an equipment as the Chinese use for their New Year's Day celebrations.Before I could speak to him he had thrown the string into an empty barrel and had lighted the fuse. Immediately there was an uproar like a regiment of infantry firing at will. As soon as this was started, he took up his cymbals and began capering about, clanging them. The barking of the dogs rose frantically.Surely, if anything could increase her excitement, this grotesque accession would, and I prepared for the last scene. The uproar inside now rivaled King's racket; Edna was screaming for help, and instantly it occurred to me that the dogs, who had always hated her, might be now upon her, and, if I did not act quickly, would tear her to pieces.I tried the big door; it was held by something inside. Smashing in a window, sash, glass and all, with my naked fists, I climbed in and went through the harness-room to the carriage shed.There she stood, now disarrayed to a shocking state, her shining golden skirt ripped half off, her bosom bare, her hair streaming. She was driven into a corner and was held there at bay by three snapping, yelping dogs. She had caught up a carriage whip and was slashing away so savagely that the collies dared not close with her, but I could see that it was only a question of a few minutes before she would collapse.It was my Joy in face and form, remember! It was her face that was distorted with terror, her form that was draped in glittering rags, it was her voice that rose, shriek on shriek, above the din, till my blood ran cold. It was her voice that screamed to me for help before she was torn to pieces. Its terror will be with me always."Oh, help me! Help me!" she cried.But I steeled myself for thecoup de grâce. "Break the bone," I muttered, "and let it heal again!"So I staggered to the great door, slipped the hasp and let in King, prancing, beating his cymbals, droning some savage chant. The sun shone full upon him, glinted on the brass cymbals and illuminated the red and white and black of his atrocious mask. He danced up to her, nearer and nearer. I watched her, spellbound.Then, as I looked, I saw her face change. Her whip hand dropped, her staring eyes closed. She clutched at her naked breast, tottered and fell headlong, striking her forehead against a carriage wheel as she went down like a golden wave dashing on the shore. I sprang to catch her, just too late. But the next instant I was down on the floor beside her, beating the collies back, protecting her from their teeth by my own body. Even as I did so they drew off, stopped their fierce snarling and lay down, panting, to watch me quietly. How my hopes rose at this! How eagerly I waited for the prostrate form to revive. Outside, the last of the fire-crackers popped at intervals in the smoking barrel."Get some water!" I cried to King.He threw off his mask, and dropped his cymbals with a clanging clash and was off through the big door.The next moment I looked up from the pale scarred face on the floor, to see Doctor Copin standing at the entrance. Leah, wide-eyed, staring, was behind him."What in hell's the matter?" he demanded, and he looked in astonishment at the scene, at the flaccid body in its magnificent disarray, at me holding her passionately in my arms.I watched her face for the first sign of life, and did not answer him. His presence mattered little, now, in my agonized suspense."For God's sake, Castle, what does this mean? Are you all mad? What has happened? What the devil are you doing here, anyway? Let me see to Miss Fielding, please."I attempted to hold him off with one hand, but he seized me roughly before I was able to resist, and threw me to one side. He dropped to his knees, looked at the face and felt for the pulse. I took my revolver from my pocket and pointed it at him."You take your hand off her, or I'll make you!" I cried.Quick as a flash he turned and looked at me bravely. "Shoot if you dare!" he said. "This is my day, and this is my Miss Fielding. I take no orders from you, sir. It's my duty as a physician to revive her. She'll send you packing herself, when she comes to."I was, after all, so fearful of her condition by this time, that I was glad to take advantage of his skill. It would soon be settled one way or the other, at any rate. So I said:"All right, then, if she asks me to go, I will. But we'll wait and see."And so we stood, facing each other, for a tense moment, then turned to her again. King came running in with a basin of water. Leah took it, stooped down and began to sprinkle the pale face.At that moment I saw Minnehaha look up, and crawl, whimpering, to her mistress' side. Chevalier and John O'Groat followed her. Joy's eyes opened. I sprang to lift her up."Edna!" the doctor cried."Joy!" I called, myself.Life came flooding into her face, and I knew intuitively that it was Joy—Joy illumined, now, in some secret way, by the knowledge of our victory."Chester!" She smiled wanly up at me. "Chester, send him away! I want to be alone with you! I have something to tell you!""Miss Fielding!" the doctor exclaimed, "I must see you a moment first."She turned to him and a wave of crimson swept over her cheek."I beg your pardon, doctor, I'm no longer Miss Fielding. I'm Mrs. Castle, and I beg you to leave immediately!"Then, still holding my hand close in hers, she looked up at Leah and drew her down beside us."Oh, Leah, dear, we've won!We've won!"THE END* * * * * * * *A FEW OFGROSSET & DUNLAP'SGreat Books at Little PricesNEW, CLEVER, ENTERTAINING.GRET: The Story of a Pagan. By Beatrice Mantle. Illustrated by C. M. Relyea.The wild free life of an Oregon lumber camp furnishes the setting for this strong original story. Gret is the daughter of the camp and is utterly content with the wild life—until love comes. A fine book, unmarred by convention.OLD CHESTER TALES. By Margaret Deland. Illustrated by Howard Pyle.A vivid yet delicate portrayal of characters in an old New England town. Dr. Lavendar's fine, kindly wisdom is brought to bear upon the lives of all, permeating the whole volume like the pungent odor of pine, healthful and life giving. "Old Chester Tales" will surely be among the books that abide.THE MEMOIRS OF A BABY. By Josephine Daskara. Illustrated by F. Y. Cory.The dawning intelligence of the baby was grappled with by its great aunt, an elderly maiden, whose book knowledge of babies was something at which even the infant himself winked. A delicious bit of humor.REBECCA MARY. By Annie Hamilton Donnell. Illustrated by Elizabeth Shippen Green.The heart tragedies of this little girl with no one near to share them, are told with a delicate art, a keen appreciation of the needs of the childish heart and a humorous knowledge of the workings of the childish mind.THE FLY ON THE WHEEL. By Katherine Cecil Thurston. Frontispiece by Harrison Fisher.An Irish story of real power, perfect in development and showing a true conception of the spirited Hibernian character as displayed in the tragic as well as the tender phases of life.THE MAN FROM BRODNEY'S. By George Barr McCutcheon. Illustrated by Harrison Fisher.An island in the South Sea is the setting for this entertaining tale, and an all-conquering hero and a beautiful princess figure in a most complicated plot. One of Mr. McCutcheon's best books.TOLD BY UNCLE REMUS. By Joel Chandler Harris. Illustrated by A. B. Frost, J. M. Conde and Frank Verbeck.Again Uncle Remus enters the fields of childhood, and leads another little boy to that non-locatable land called "Brer Rabbit's Laughing Place," and again the quaint animals spring into active life and play their parts, for the edification of a small but appreciative audience.THE CLIMBER. By E. F. Benson. With frontispiece.An unsparing analysis of an ambitious woman's soul—a woman who believed that in social supremacy she would find happiness, and who finds instead the utter despair of one who has chosen the things that pass away.LYNCH'S DAUGHTER. By Leonard Merrick. Illustrated by Geo. Brehm.A story of to-day, telling how a rich girl acquires ideals of beautiful and simple living, and of men and love, quite apart from the teachings of her father, "Old Man Lynch" of Wall St. True to life, clever in treatment.* * * * *GROSSET & DUNLAP'SDRAMATIZED NOVELSA Few that are Making Theatrical HistoryMARY JANE'S PA. By Norman Way. Illustrated with scenes from the play.Delightful, irresponsible "Mary Jane's Pa" awakes one morning to find himself famous, and, genius being ill adapted to domestic joys, he wanders from home, to work out his own unique destiny. One of the most humorous bits of recent fiction.CHERUB DEVINE. By Sewell Ford"Cherub," a good hearted but not over refined young man is brought in touch with the aristocracy. Of sprightly wit, he is sometimes a merciless analyst, but he proves in the end that manhood counts for more than ancient lineage by winning the love of the fairest girl in the flock.A WOMAN'S WAY. By Charles Somerville. Illustrated with scenes from the play.A story in which a woman's wit and self-sacrificing love save her husband from the toils of an adventuress, and change an apparently tragic situation into one of delicious comedy.THE CLIMAX. By George C. Jenks.With ambition luring her on, a young choir soprano leaves the little village where she was born and the limited audience of St. Jude's to train for the opera in New York. She leaves love behind her and meets love more ardent but not more sincere in her new environment. How she works, how she studies, how she suffers, are vividly portrayed.A FOOL THERE WAS. By Porter Emerson Browne. Illustrated by Edmund Magrath and W. W. Fawcett.A relentless portrayal of the career of a man who comes under the influence of a beautiful but evil woman; how she lures him on and on, how he struggles, falls and rises, only to fall again into her net, make a story of unflinching realism.THE SQUAW MAN. By Julie Opp Faversham and Edwin Milton Royle. Illustrated with scenes from the play.A glowing story, rapid in action, bright in dialogue with a fine courageous hero and a beautiful English heroine.THE GIRL IN WAITING. By Archibald Eyre. Illustrated with scenes from the play.A droll little comedy of misunderstandings, told with a light touch, a venturesome spirit and an eye for human oddities.THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL. By Baroness Orczy. Illustrated with scenes from the play.A realistic story of the days of the French Revolution, abounding in dramatic incident, with a young English soldier of fortune, daring, mysterious as the hero.* * * * *A FEW OFGROSSET & DUNLAP'SGreat Books at Little PricesCY WHITTAKER'S PLACE. By Joseph C. Lincoln. Illustrated by Wallace Morgan.A Cape Cod story describing the amusing efforts of an elderly bachelor and his two cronies to rear and educate a little girl. Full of honest fun—a rural drama.THE FORGE IN THE FOREST. By Charles G. D. Roberts. Illustrated by H. Sandham.A story of the conflict in Acadia after its conquest by the British. A dramatic picture that lives and shines with the indefinable charm of poetic romance.A SISTER TO EVANGELINE. By Charles G. D. Roberts. Illustrated by E. McConnell.Being the story of Yvonne de Lamourie, and how she went into exile with the villagers of Grand Pré. Swift action, fresh atmosphere, wholesome purity, deep passion and searching analysis characterize this strong novel.THE OPENED SHUTTERS. By Clara Louise Burnham. Frontispiece by Harrison Fisher.A summer haunt on an island in Casco Bay is the background for this romance. A beautiful woman, at discord with life, is brought to realize, by her new friends, that she may open the shutters of her soul to the blessed sunlight of joy by casting aside vanity and self love. A delicately humorous work with a lofty motive underlying it all.THE RIGHT PRINCESS. By Clara Louise Burnham.An amusing story, opening at a fashionable Long Island resort, where a stately Englishwoman employs a forcible New England housekeeper to serve in her interesting home. How types so widely apart react on each others' lives, all to ultimate good, makes a story both humorous and rich in sentiment.THE LEAVEN OF LOVE. By Clara Louise Burnham. Frontispiece by Harrison Fisher.At a Southern California resort a world-weary woman, young and beautiful but disillusioned, meets a girl who has learned the art of living—of tasting life in all its richness, opulence and joy. The story hinges upon the change wrought in the soul of the blasé woman by this glimpse into a cheery life.* * * * *A FEW OFGROSSET & DUNLAP'SGreat Books at Little PricesQUINCY ADAMS SAWYER. A Picture of New England Home Life. With illustrations by C. W. Reed, and Scenes Reproduced from the Play.One of the best New England stories ever written. It is full of homely human interest * * * there is a wealth of New England village character, scenes and incidents * * * forcibly, vividly and truthfully drawn. Few books have enjoyed a greater sale and popularity. Dramatized, it made the greatest rural play of recent times.THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF QUINCY ADAMS SAWYER. By Charles Felton Pidgin. Illustrated by Henry Roth.All who love honest sentiment, quaint and sunny humor, and homespun philosophy will find these "Further Adventures" a book after their own heart.HALF A CHANCE. By Frederic S. Isham. Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer.The thrill of excitement will keep the reader in a state of suspense, and he will become personally concerned from the start, as to the central character, a very real man who suffers, dares—and achieves!VIRGINIA OF THE AIR LANES. By Herbert Quick. Illustrated by William R. Leigh.The author has seized the romantic moment for the airship novel, and created the pretty story of "a lover and his lass" contending with an elderly relative for the monopoly of the skies. An exciting tale of adventure in midair.THE GAME AND THE CANDLE. By Eleanor M. Ingram. Illustrated by P. D. Johnson.The hero is a young American, who, to save his family from poverty, deliberately commits a felony. Then follow his capture and imprisonment, and his rescue by a Russian Grand Duke. A stirring story, rich in sentiment.* * * * *A FEW OFGROSSET & DUNLAP'SGreat Books at Little PricesBRUVVER JIM'S BABY. By Philip Verrill Mighels.An uproariously funny story of a tiny mining settlement in the West, which is shaken to the very roots by the sudden possession of a baby, found on the plains by one of its residents. The town is as disreputable a spot as the gold fever was ever responsible for, and the coming of that baby causes the upheaval of every rooted tradition of the place. Its christening, the problems of its toys and its illness supersede in the minds of the miners all thought of earthy treasure.THE FURNACE OF GOLD. By Philip Verrill Mighels, author of "Bruvver Jim's Baby." Illustrations by J. N. Marchand.An accurate and informing portrayal of scenes, types, and conditions of the mining districts in modern Nevada.The book is an out-door story, clean, exciting, exemplifying nobility and courage of character, and bravery, and heroism in the sort of men and women we all admire and wish to know.THE MESSAGE. By Louis Tracy. Illustrations by Joseph C. Chase.A breezy tale of how a bit of old parchment, concealed in a figure-head from a sunken vessel, comes into the possession of a pretty girl and an army man during regatta week in the Isle of Wight. This is the message and it enfolds a mystery, the development of which the reader will follow with breathless interest.THE SCARLET EMPIRE. By David M. Parry. Illustrations by Hermann C. Wall.A young socialist, weary of life, plunges into the sea and awakes in the lost island of Atlantis, known as the Scarlet Empire, where a social democracy is in full operation, granting every man a living but limiting food, conversation, education and marriage.The hero passes through an enthralling love affair and other adventures but finally returns to his own New York world.THE THIRD DEGREE. By Charles Klein and Arthur Hornblow. Illustrations by Clarence Rowe.A novel which exposes the abuses in this country of the police system.The son of an aristocratic New York family marries a woman socially beneath him, but of strong, womanly qualities that, later on, save the man from the tragic consequences of a dissipated life.The wife believes in his innocence and her wit and good sense help her to win against the tremendous odds imposed by law.THE THIRTEENTH DISTRICT. By Brand Whitlock.A realistic western story of love and politics and a searching study of their influence on character. The author shows with extraordinary vitality of treatment the tricks, the heat, the passion, the tumult of the political arena, the triumph and strength of love.* * * * *A FEW OFGROSSET & DUNLAP'SGreat Books at Little PricesTHE MUSIC MASTER. By Charles Klein. Illustrated by John Rae.This marvelously vivid narrative turns upon the search of a German musician in New York for his little daughter. Mr. Klein has well portrayed his pathetic struggle with poverty, his varied experiences in endeavoring to meet the demands of a public not trained to an appreciation of the classic, and his final great hour when, in the rapidly shifting events of a big city, his little daughter, now a beautiful young woman, is brought to his very door. A superb bit of fiction, palpitating with the life of the great metropolis. The play in which David Warfield scored his highest success.DR. LAVENDAR'S PEOPLE. By Margaret Deland. Illustrated by Lucius Hitchcock.Mrs. Deland won so many friends through Old Chester Tales that this volume needs no introduction beyond its title. The lovable doctor is more ripened in this later book, and the simple comedies and tragedies of the old village are told with dramatic charm.OLD CHESTER TALES. By Margaret Deland. Illustrated by Howard Pyle.Stories portraying with delightful humor and pathos a quaint people in a sleepy old town. Dr. Lavendar, a very human and lovable "preacher," is the connecting link between these dramatic stories from life.HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. By E. P. Roe, With frontispiece.The hero is a farmer—a man with honest, sincere views of life. Bereft of his wife, his home is cared for by a succession of domestics of varying degrees of inefficiency until, from a most unpromising source, comes a young woman who not only becomes his wife but commands his respect and eventually wins his love. A bright and delicate romance, revealing on both sides a love that surmounts all difficulties and survives the censure of friends as well as the bitterness of enemies.THE YOKE. By Elizabeth Miller.Against the historical background of the days when the children of Israel were delivered from the bondage of Egypt, the author has sketched a romance of compelling charm. A biblical novel as great as any since "Ben Hur."SAUL OF TARSUS. By Elizabeth Miller. Illustrated by André Castaigne.The scenes of this story are laid in Jerusalem, Alexandria, Rome and Damascus. The Apostle Paul, the Martyr Stephen, Herod Agrippa and the Emperors Tiberius and Caligula are among the mighty figures that move through the pages. Wonderful descriptions, and a love story of the purest and noblest type mark this most remarkable religious romance.* * * * *GROSSET & DUNLAP'SDRAMATIZED NOVELSOriginal, sincere and courageous—often amusing—thekind that are making theatrical history.MADAME X. By Alexandre Bisson and J. W. McConaughy. Illustrated with scenes from the play.A beautiful Parisienne became an outcast because her husband would not forgive an error of her youth. Her love for her son is the great final influence in her career. A tremendous dramatic success.THE GARDEN OF ALLAH. By Robert Hichens.An unconventional English woman and an inscrutable stranger meet and love in an oasis of the Sahara. Staged this season with magnificent cast and gorgeous properties.THE PRINCE OF INDIA. By Lew. Wallace.A glowing romance of the Byzantine Empire, presenting with extraordinary power the siege of Constantinople, and lighting its tragedy with the warm underglow of an Oriental romance. As a play it is a great dramatic spectacle.TESS OF THE STORM COUNTRY. By Grace Miller White. Illust. by Howard Chandler Christy.A girl from the dregs of society, loves a young Cornell University student, and it works startling changes in her life and the lives of those about her. The dramatic version is one of the sensations of the season.YOUNG WALLINGFORD. By George Randolph Chester. Illust. by F. R. Gruger and Henry Raleigh.A series of clever swindles conducted by a cheerful young man, each of which is just on the safe side of a State's prison offence. As "Get-Rich-Quick Wallingford," it is probably the most amusing expose of money manipulation ever seen on the stage.THE INTRUSION OF JIMMY. By P. G. Wodehouse. Illustrations by Will Grefé.Social and club life in London and New York, an amateur burglary adventure and a love story. Dramatized under the title of "A Gentleman of Leisure," it furnishes hours of laughter to the play-goers.* * * * *TITLES SELECTED FROMGROSSET & DUNLAP'S LISTREALISTIC, ENGAGING PICTURES OF LIFETHE GARDEN OF FATE. By Roy Norton. Illustrated by Joseph Clement Coll.The colorful romance of an American girl in Morocco, and of a beautiful garden, whose beauty and traditions of strange subtle happenings were closed to the world by a Sultan's seal.THE MAN HIGHER UP. By Henry Russell Miller.Full page vignette illustrations by M. Leone Bracker.The story of a tenement waif who rose by his own ingenuity to the office of mayor of his native city. His experiences while "climbing," make a most interesting example of the possibilities of human nature to rise above circumstances.
IV
I may well say "act," for it was acting that was now necessary. I smarted from her blow, I saw in her a vicious, dangerous fury, with a devil snarling in her, but I had nothing but pity for her. How could I be angry? She was desperate, but it was the frenzy of an irresponsible spirit that urged her. And, moreover, she stood in my own bride's image, beautiful, splendid, virile. She was, in outward seeming, the woman I loved best in all the world. I had, I insist, nothing but the tenderest pity for her whom I must now, if I had the power, harry, harass, torment and destroy. But to accomplish this I had to play a part. I could show no trace of kindness or consideration. So I nerved myself and simulated rage when never was rage further from my heart.
"Oh, you would, would you!" I cried through my teeth, as villains do upon the stage. "Well, then, Miss Edna, it's time to talk honestly to you. I am in love with Joy, and I do hate you with all my heart! I would free Joy if I could, but you and the doctor are too much for us. I know what she's had to endure from him in your own person and her own, and rather than let her go through that outrage again, rather than let his lips touch hers, whether you consent or not, I'll kill you both. I can't touch her, for I love her, but I'm going to kill you, now!"
With that I drew a revolver from my pocket and took steady aim at her. Oh, I gave her time! The one thing I was afraid of, then, was that she would dare me to shoot. Luckily her nerve failed her.
She screamed and ran to the door like a deer. She screamed as she dashed up-stairs, tripping over her gown, calling wildly for Leah to come and save her. She screamed again and again as, giving her ample time to escape, I followed after her, shooting once, twice, thrice, stumbling up after her, muttering histrionic curses. There was no doubt that I had frightened her! But could I keep it up till she was literally beside herself with terror?
"Break the bone and let it heal right again!" I kept repeating to myself. But to break it—ugh! I shuddered and nerved myself again.
She had run into her room, slammed the door and locked it. I threw myself upon it and beat upon the panels with my hands. Again she screamed—the sound sickened me. I cried out that I would kill her, that there was no use in resisting, that I would break down the door. I shouted hoarsely enough, there was no need of pretending, now.
She came to the door and wailed.
"Spare me!" she cried. "Save me, Chet! You were wounded and fainting when I took you into my house. Didn't I do everything for you? How can you! How can you! What have I done?"
I fired again to stop her. I couldn't stand that reproach. Her screams broke out again. I could hear her overthrowing tables and piling them madly in front of the door.
Then her shrieks stopped suddenly, and I heard her running here and there as if searching for something. I heard drawers pulled open and emptied upon the floor, I heard chairs falling. Then there was an instant's lull.
Next, a muffled shot rang out. A bullet ripped through the panel of the door and buried itself in the mahogany wainscoting, missing my head by barely an inch. She had found her revolver—I had forgotten about that. The game was getting serious.
But now it was more necessary than ever to finish. I went down into the hall and shouted to King. He appeared at the dining-room door, his eyes as round as glass marbles, his mouth open.
"Get an ax, King, and bring it up here, quick!"
I went up again and, putting my pistol cautiously to the hole in the panel, fired another blank cartridge. My shot was immediately answered by her revolver, but the bullet went wild.
King came blundering up the stairs with the ax, showing a white mouthful of teeth. I had never thought it possible for him to show so much excitement, but he was quite wild. I took the ax and struck a heavy blow at the panel, splitting it open. Had I really wished to break down the door immediately, I would have aimed at the lock. But I wanted to draw her fire, and to torture her to the limit of suspense and fear.
She screamed again as the wood was ripped into splinters, and two more shots were fired in quick succession, only one of them going through the door. She had spent four cartridges now, and, as she held the last one, I had to act quickly so that she would have no chance to reload.
"You go down-stairs, King," I commanded. "Wait for her when she runs out. I'll chase her outdoors. She has only one shot left, so you needn't be afraid of her. I'll get that bullet, all right. Scream at her, scare her to death if you can, but don't touch her. If you do, by God, I'll kill you!"
He stole noiselessly down the stairs and disappeared. I tried another panel with the ax, but, as she was clever enough not to shoot, I reloaded my first pistol, and, taking what risk there was without thought, I seized the ax again and with one fierce blow smashed the lock to pieces. With the concussion the door fell partly in. I dropped the ax, put my shoulder to the door and swept the barricade inward, darting quickly through with my pistol raised.
[image]She was handsome—terrible.
[image]
[image]
She was handsome—terrible.
She was handsome—terrible. Frightened as she was, she had control of herself yet, and was magnificently defiant, breathing in quick gasps with her mouth open, her bosom heaving, as if she were suffocating. Her embroidered waist was half torn off and hung away from her neck, revealing her brown-white breast, or perhaps she had torn the bodice open herself for air. Her golden wreath was gone. I saw it on the floor, trampled out of shape. Her hair had fallen over her shoulders, but its disarray was lovely. Her filmy, sparkling gown was rent and spotted from her falls.
She had taken refuge behind an overthrown table and stood with her revolver ready. Over her head was a drifting cloud of smoke, about her a wild confusion of disordered furniture. A shaft of sunlight played upon her disheveled costume. In the stable, I heard the dogs barking frantically.
So much I observed in one flash—the picture will always be with me as distinct as a photograph—but I had no time to speak, or even to think what I should do next, for, after that momentary pause, she bent forward deliberately and fired at me point-blank.
I felt a sting on my left arm where her bullet grazed, but, without stopping to find whether I was hurt or not, I fired with both pistols at once, and went forward at her. The sound of the double shot in the closed room was terrific. Her eyes, staring and fascinated, kept on me for an instant as if she were paralyzed, then she screamed again—her voice rivaled the pistol shots—and, suddenly pushing the table with all her might against me, she ran for the door. As she passed, I shot again. The din was maddening.
It was not my intention to finish with her there, though, and again I gave her a chance to escape, driving her before me. As she dashed out she brushed against a framed Madonna upon the wall and it came crashing down. She stumbled on the threshold—I thought she would never get away—and, moaning pitifully, she half ran, half fell down the stairway.
It was a dirty piece of business. I was sickened by it. But, having gone so far, I had no thought of stopping till I had accomplished my object. I gave her a moment's time, therefore, and then, leaving that horrid smoking chaos in her room, I followed her.
She had gone out the front door and turned the corner of the house, making, by some fatal impulse, for the stable. The barking of the collies had ceased, but as I got to the yard I heard it recommence in a higher and more violent key. It seemed incredible to me that she had sought refuge in the stable, but as I looked, I saw the great door rolled shut. When I came up to it, King came out of his cabin room.
King came out; but he was no longer the smiling, unctuous Celestial I had known. In that yelping, screaming clamor, I stopped to look at him in surprise.
He had fastened the mask upon his head and held the cymbals in one hand. With the other he dragged a package of fire-crackers six feet long, braided together in quadruple rows—there were as many there as in a hundred of the common Fourth-of-July packages. It was such an equipment as the Chinese use for their New Year's Day celebrations.
Before I could speak to him he had thrown the string into an empty barrel and had lighted the fuse. Immediately there was an uproar like a regiment of infantry firing at will. As soon as this was started, he took up his cymbals and began capering about, clanging them. The barking of the dogs rose frantically.
Surely, if anything could increase her excitement, this grotesque accession would, and I prepared for the last scene. The uproar inside now rivaled King's racket; Edna was screaming for help, and instantly it occurred to me that the dogs, who had always hated her, might be now upon her, and, if I did not act quickly, would tear her to pieces.
I tried the big door; it was held by something inside. Smashing in a window, sash, glass and all, with my naked fists, I climbed in and went through the harness-room to the carriage shed.
There she stood, now disarrayed to a shocking state, her shining golden skirt ripped half off, her bosom bare, her hair streaming. She was driven into a corner and was held there at bay by three snapping, yelping dogs. She had caught up a carriage whip and was slashing away so savagely that the collies dared not close with her, but I could see that it was only a question of a few minutes before she would collapse.
It was my Joy in face and form, remember! It was her face that was distorted with terror, her form that was draped in glittering rags, it was her voice that rose, shriek on shriek, above the din, till my blood ran cold. It was her voice that screamed to me for help before she was torn to pieces. Its terror will be with me always.
"Oh, help me! Help me!" she cried.
But I steeled myself for thecoup de grâce. "Break the bone," I muttered, "and let it heal again!"
So I staggered to the great door, slipped the hasp and let in King, prancing, beating his cymbals, droning some savage chant. The sun shone full upon him, glinted on the brass cymbals and illuminated the red and white and black of his atrocious mask. He danced up to her, nearer and nearer. I watched her, spellbound.
Then, as I looked, I saw her face change. Her whip hand dropped, her staring eyes closed. She clutched at her naked breast, tottered and fell headlong, striking her forehead against a carriage wheel as she went down like a golden wave dashing on the shore. I sprang to catch her, just too late. But the next instant I was down on the floor beside her, beating the collies back, protecting her from their teeth by my own body. Even as I did so they drew off, stopped their fierce snarling and lay down, panting, to watch me quietly. How my hopes rose at this! How eagerly I waited for the prostrate form to revive. Outside, the last of the fire-crackers popped at intervals in the smoking barrel.
"Get some water!" I cried to King.
He threw off his mask, and dropped his cymbals with a clanging clash and was off through the big door.
The next moment I looked up from the pale scarred face on the floor, to see Doctor Copin standing at the entrance. Leah, wide-eyed, staring, was behind him.
"What in hell's the matter?" he demanded, and he looked in astonishment at the scene, at the flaccid body in its magnificent disarray, at me holding her passionately in my arms.
I watched her face for the first sign of life, and did not answer him. His presence mattered little, now, in my agonized suspense.
"For God's sake, Castle, what does this mean? Are you all mad? What has happened? What the devil are you doing here, anyway? Let me see to Miss Fielding, please."
I attempted to hold him off with one hand, but he seized me roughly before I was able to resist, and threw me to one side. He dropped to his knees, looked at the face and felt for the pulse. I took my revolver from my pocket and pointed it at him.
"You take your hand off her, or I'll make you!" I cried.
Quick as a flash he turned and looked at me bravely. "Shoot if you dare!" he said. "This is my day, and this is my Miss Fielding. I take no orders from you, sir. It's my duty as a physician to revive her. She'll send you packing herself, when she comes to."
I was, after all, so fearful of her condition by this time, that I was glad to take advantage of his skill. It would soon be settled one way or the other, at any rate. So I said:
"All right, then, if she asks me to go, I will. But we'll wait and see."
And so we stood, facing each other, for a tense moment, then turned to her again. King came running in with a basin of water. Leah took it, stooped down and began to sprinkle the pale face.
At that moment I saw Minnehaha look up, and crawl, whimpering, to her mistress' side. Chevalier and John O'Groat followed her. Joy's eyes opened. I sprang to lift her up.
"Edna!" the doctor cried.
"Joy!" I called, myself.
Life came flooding into her face, and I knew intuitively that it was Joy—Joy illumined, now, in some secret way, by the knowledge of our victory.
"Chester!" She smiled wanly up at me. "Chester, send him away! I want to be alone with you! I have something to tell you!"
"Miss Fielding!" the doctor exclaimed, "I must see you a moment first."
She turned to him and a wave of crimson swept over her cheek.
"I beg your pardon, doctor, I'm no longer Miss Fielding. I'm Mrs. Castle, and I beg you to leave immediately!"
Then, still holding my hand close in hers, she looked up at Leah and drew her down beside us.
"Oh, Leah, dear, we've won!We've won!"
THE END
* * * * * * * *
A FEW OF
GROSSET & DUNLAP'S
Great Books at Little Prices
NEW, CLEVER, ENTERTAINING.
GRET: The Story of a Pagan. By Beatrice Mantle. Illustrated by C. M. Relyea.
The wild free life of an Oregon lumber camp furnishes the setting for this strong original story. Gret is the daughter of the camp and is utterly content with the wild life—until love comes. A fine book, unmarred by convention.
OLD CHESTER TALES. By Margaret Deland. Illustrated by Howard Pyle.
A vivid yet delicate portrayal of characters in an old New England town. Dr. Lavendar's fine, kindly wisdom is brought to bear upon the lives of all, permeating the whole volume like the pungent odor of pine, healthful and life giving. "Old Chester Tales" will surely be among the books that abide.
THE MEMOIRS OF A BABY. By Josephine Daskara. Illustrated by F. Y. Cory.
The dawning intelligence of the baby was grappled with by its great aunt, an elderly maiden, whose book knowledge of babies was something at which even the infant himself winked. A delicious bit of humor.
REBECCA MARY. By Annie Hamilton Donnell. Illustrated by Elizabeth Shippen Green.
The heart tragedies of this little girl with no one near to share them, are told with a delicate art, a keen appreciation of the needs of the childish heart and a humorous knowledge of the workings of the childish mind.
THE FLY ON THE WHEEL. By Katherine Cecil Thurston. Frontispiece by Harrison Fisher.
An Irish story of real power, perfect in development and showing a true conception of the spirited Hibernian character as displayed in the tragic as well as the tender phases of life.
THE MAN FROM BRODNEY'S. By George Barr McCutcheon. Illustrated by Harrison Fisher.
An island in the South Sea is the setting for this entertaining tale, and an all-conquering hero and a beautiful princess figure in a most complicated plot. One of Mr. McCutcheon's best books.
TOLD BY UNCLE REMUS. By Joel Chandler Harris. Illustrated by A. B. Frost, J. M. Conde and Frank Verbeck.
Again Uncle Remus enters the fields of childhood, and leads another little boy to that non-locatable land called "Brer Rabbit's Laughing Place," and again the quaint animals spring into active life and play their parts, for the edification of a small but appreciative audience.
THE CLIMBER. By E. F. Benson. With frontispiece.
An unsparing analysis of an ambitious woman's soul—a woman who believed that in social supremacy she would find happiness, and who finds instead the utter despair of one who has chosen the things that pass away.
LYNCH'S DAUGHTER. By Leonard Merrick. Illustrated by Geo. Brehm.
A story of to-day, telling how a rich girl acquires ideals of beautiful and simple living, and of men and love, quite apart from the teachings of her father, "Old Man Lynch" of Wall St. True to life, clever in treatment.
* * * * *
GROSSET & DUNLAP'S
DRAMATIZED NOVELS
A Few that are Making Theatrical History
MARY JANE'S PA. By Norman Way. Illustrated with scenes from the play.
Delightful, irresponsible "Mary Jane's Pa" awakes one morning to find himself famous, and, genius being ill adapted to domestic joys, he wanders from home, to work out his own unique destiny. One of the most humorous bits of recent fiction.
CHERUB DEVINE. By Sewell Ford
"Cherub," a good hearted but not over refined young man is brought in touch with the aristocracy. Of sprightly wit, he is sometimes a merciless analyst, but he proves in the end that manhood counts for more than ancient lineage by winning the love of the fairest girl in the flock.
A WOMAN'S WAY. By Charles Somerville. Illustrated with scenes from the play.
A story in which a woman's wit and self-sacrificing love save her husband from the toils of an adventuress, and change an apparently tragic situation into one of delicious comedy.
THE CLIMAX. By George C. Jenks.
With ambition luring her on, a young choir soprano leaves the little village where she was born and the limited audience of St. Jude's to train for the opera in New York. She leaves love behind her and meets love more ardent but not more sincere in her new environment. How she works, how she studies, how she suffers, are vividly portrayed.
A FOOL THERE WAS. By Porter Emerson Browne. Illustrated by Edmund Magrath and W. W. Fawcett.
A relentless portrayal of the career of a man who comes under the influence of a beautiful but evil woman; how she lures him on and on, how he struggles, falls and rises, only to fall again into her net, make a story of unflinching realism.
THE SQUAW MAN. By Julie Opp Faversham and Edwin Milton Royle. Illustrated with scenes from the play.
A glowing story, rapid in action, bright in dialogue with a fine courageous hero and a beautiful English heroine.
THE GIRL IN WAITING. By Archibald Eyre. Illustrated with scenes from the play.
A droll little comedy of misunderstandings, told with a light touch, a venturesome spirit and an eye for human oddities.
THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL. By Baroness Orczy. Illustrated with scenes from the play.
A realistic story of the days of the French Revolution, abounding in dramatic incident, with a young English soldier of fortune, daring, mysterious as the hero.
* * * * *
A FEW OF
GROSSET & DUNLAP'S
Great Books at Little Prices
CY WHITTAKER'S PLACE. By Joseph C. Lincoln. Illustrated by Wallace Morgan.
A Cape Cod story describing the amusing efforts of an elderly bachelor and his two cronies to rear and educate a little girl. Full of honest fun—a rural drama.
THE FORGE IN THE FOREST. By Charles G. D. Roberts. Illustrated by H. Sandham.
A story of the conflict in Acadia after its conquest by the British. A dramatic picture that lives and shines with the indefinable charm of poetic romance.
A SISTER TO EVANGELINE. By Charles G. D. Roberts. Illustrated by E. McConnell.
Being the story of Yvonne de Lamourie, and how she went into exile with the villagers of Grand Pré. Swift action, fresh atmosphere, wholesome purity, deep passion and searching analysis characterize this strong novel.
THE OPENED SHUTTERS. By Clara Louise Burnham. Frontispiece by Harrison Fisher.
A summer haunt on an island in Casco Bay is the background for this romance. A beautiful woman, at discord with life, is brought to realize, by her new friends, that she may open the shutters of her soul to the blessed sunlight of joy by casting aside vanity and self love. A delicately humorous work with a lofty motive underlying it all.
THE RIGHT PRINCESS. By Clara Louise Burnham.
An amusing story, opening at a fashionable Long Island resort, where a stately Englishwoman employs a forcible New England housekeeper to serve in her interesting home. How types so widely apart react on each others' lives, all to ultimate good, makes a story both humorous and rich in sentiment.
THE LEAVEN OF LOVE. By Clara Louise Burnham. Frontispiece by Harrison Fisher.
At a Southern California resort a world-weary woman, young and beautiful but disillusioned, meets a girl who has learned the art of living—of tasting life in all its richness, opulence and joy. The story hinges upon the change wrought in the soul of the blasé woman by this glimpse into a cheery life.
* * * * *
A FEW OF
GROSSET & DUNLAP'S
Great Books at Little Prices
QUINCY ADAMS SAWYER. A Picture of New England Home Life. With illustrations by C. W. Reed, and Scenes Reproduced from the Play.
One of the best New England stories ever written. It is full of homely human interest * * * there is a wealth of New England village character, scenes and incidents * * * forcibly, vividly and truthfully drawn. Few books have enjoyed a greater sale and popularity. Dramatized, it made the greatest rural play of recent times.
THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF QUINCY ADAMS SAWYER. By Charles Felton Pidgin. Illustrated by Henry Roth.
All who love honest sentiment, quaint and sunny humor, and homespun philosophy will find these "Further Adventures" a book after their own heart.
HALF A CHANCE. By Frederic S. Isham. Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer.
The thrill of excitement will keep the reader in a state of suspense, and he will become personally concerned from the start, as to the central character, a very real man who suffers, dares—and achieves!
VIRGINIA OF THE AIR LANES. By Herbert Quick. Illustrated by William R. Leigh.
The author has seized the romantic moment for the airship novel, and created the pretty story of "a lover and his lass" contending with an elderly relative for the monopoly of the skies. An exciting tale of adventure in midair.
THE GAME AND THE CANDLE. By Eleanor M. Ingram. Illustrated by P. D. Johnson.
The hero is a young American, who, to save his family from poverty, deliberately commits a felony. Then follow his capture and imprisonment, and his rescue by a Russian Grand Duke. A stirring story, rich in sentiment.
* * * * *
A FEW OF
GROSSET & DUNLAP'S
Great Books at Little Prices
BRUVVER JIM'S BABY. By Philip Verrill Mighels.
An uproariously funny story of a tiny mining settlement in the West, which is shaken to the very roots by the sudden possession of a baby, found on the plains by one of its residents. The town is as disreputable a spot as the gold fever was ever responsible for, and the coming of that baby causes the upheaval of every rooted tradition of the place. Its christening, the problems of its toys and its illness supersede in the minds of the miners all thought of earthy treasure.
THE FURNACE OF GOLD. By Philip Verrill Mighels, author of "Bruvver Jim's Baby." Illustrations by J. N. Marchand.
An accurate and informing portrayal of scenes, types, and conditions of the mining districts in modern Nevada.
The book is an out-door story, clean, exciting, exemplifying nobility and courage of character, and bravery, and heroism in the sort of men and women we all admire and wish to know.
THE MESSAGE. By Louis Tracy. Illustrations by Joseph C. Chase.
A breezy tale of how a bit of old parchment, concealed in a figure-head from a sunken vessel, comes into the possession of a pretty girl and an army man during regatta week in the Isle of Wight. This is the message and it enfolds a mystery, the development of which the reader will follow with breathless interest.
THE SCARLET EMPIRE. By David M. Parry. Illustrations by Hermann C. Wall.
A young socialist, weary of life, plunges into the sea and awakes in the lost island of Atlantis, known as the Scarlet Empire, where a social democracy is in full operation, granting every man a living but limiting food, conversation, education and marriage.
The hero passes through an enthralling love affair and other adventures but finally returns to his own New York world.
THE THIRD DEGREE. By Charles Klein and Arthur Hornblow. Illustrations by Clarence Rowe.
A novel which exposes the abuses in this country of the police system.
The son of an aristocratic New York family marries a woman socially beneath him, but of strong, womanly qualities that, later on, save the man from the tragic consequences of a dissipated life.
The wife believes in his innocence and her wit and good sense help her to win against the tremendous odds imposed by law.
THE THIRTEENTH DISTRICT. By Brand Whitlock.
A realistic western story of love and politics and a searching study of their influence on character. The author shows with extraordinary vitality of treatment the tricks, the heat, the passion, the tumult of the political arena, the triumph and strength of love.
* * * * *
A FEW OF
GROSSET & DUNLAP'S
Great Books at Little Prices
THE MUSIC MASTER. By Charles Klein. Illustrated by John Rae.
This marvelously vivid narrative turns upon the search of a German musician in New York for his little daughter. Mr. Klein has well portrayed his pathetic struggle with poverty, his varied experiences in endeavoring to meet the demands of a public not trained to an appreciation of the classic, and his final great hour when, in the rapidly shifting events of a big city, his little daughter, now a beautiful young woman, is brought to his very door. A superb bit of fiction, palpitating with the life of the great metropolis. The play in which David Warfield scored his highest success.
DR. LAVENDAR'S PEOPLE. By Margaret Deland. Illustrated by Lucius Hitchcock.
Mrs. Deland won so many friends through Old Chester Tales that this volume needs no introduction beyond its title. The lovable doctor is more ripened in this later book, and the simple comedies and tragedies of the old village are told with dramatic charm.
OLD CHESTER TALES. By Margaret Deland. Illustrated by Howard Pyle.
Stories portraying with delightful humor and pathos a quaint people in a sleepy old town. Dr. Lavendar, a very human and lovable "preacher," is the connecting link between these dramatic stories from life.
HE FELL IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE. By E. P. Roe, With frontispiece.
The hero is a farmer—a man with honest, sincere views of life. Bereft of his wife, his home is cared for by a succession of domestics of varying degrees of inefficiency until, from a most unpromising source, comes a young woman who not only becomes his wife but commands his respect and eventually wins his love. A bright and delicate romance, revealing on both sides a love that surmounts all difficulties and survives the censure of friends as well as the bitterness of enemies.
THE YOKE. By Elizabeth Miller.
Against the historical background of the days when the children of Israel were delivered from the bondage of Egypt, the author has sketched a romance of compelling charm. A biblical novel as great as any since "Ben Hur."
SAUL OF TARSUS. By Elizabeth Miller. Illustrated by André Castaigne.
The scenes of this story are laid in Jerusalem, Alexandria, Rome and Damascus. The Apostle Paul, the Martyr Stephen, Herod Agrippa and the Emperors Tiberius and Caligula are among the mighty figures that move through the pages. Wonderful descriptions, and a love story of the purest and noblest type mark this most remarkable religious romance.
* * * * *
GROSSET & DUNLAP'S
DRAMATIZED NOVELS
Original, sincere and courageous—often amusing—thekind that are making theatrical history.
MADAME X. By Alexandre Bisson and J. W. McConaughy. Illustrated with scenes from the play.
A beautiful Parisienne became an outcast because her husband would not forgive an error of her youth. Her love for her son is the great final influence in her career. A tremendous dramatic success.
THE GARDEN OF ALLAH. By Robert Hichens.
An unconventional English woman and an inscrutable stranger meet and love in an oasis of the Sahara. Staged this season with magnificent cast and gorgeous properties.
THE PRINCE OF INDIA. By Lew. Wallace.
A glowing romance of the Byzantine Empire, presenting with extraordinary power the siege of Constantinople, and lighting its tragedy with the warm underglow of an Oriental romance. As a play it is a great dramatic spectacle.
TESS OF THE STORM COUNTRY. By Grace Miller White. Illust. by Howard Chandler Christy.
A girl from the dregs of society, loves a young Cornell University student, and it works startling changes in her life and the lives of those about her. The dramatic version is one of the sensations of the season.
YOUNG WALLINGFORD. By George Randolph Chester. Illust. by F. R. Gruger and Henry Raleigh.
A series of clever swindles conducted by a cheerful young man, each of which is just on the safe side of a State's prison offence. As "Get-Rich-Quick Wallingford," it is probably the most amusing expose of money manipulation ever seen on the stage.
THE INTRUSION OF JIMMY. By P. G. Wodehouse. Illustrations by Will Grefé.
Social and club life in London and New York, an amateur burglary adventure and a love story. Dramatized under the title of "A Gentleman of Leisure," it furnishes hours of laughter to the play-goers.
* * * * *
TITLES SELECTED FROM
GROSSET & DUNLAP'S LIST
REALISTIC, ENGAGING PICTURES OF LIFE
THE GARDEN OF FATE. By Roy Norton. Illustrated by Joseph Clement Coll.
The colorful romance of an American girl in Morocco, and of a beautiful garden, whose beauty and traditions of strange subtle happenings were closed to the world by a Sultan's seal.
THE MAN HIGHER UP. By Henry Russell Miller.
Full page vignette illustrations by M. Leone Bracker.
The story of a tenement waif who rose by his own ingenuity to the office of mayor of his native city. His experiences while "climbing," make a most interesting example of the possibilities of human nature to rise above circumstances.