The Photo-Play Journal (Jul 1919-Feb 1921)

B PHOTO-PLAY JOURNAL July, igig ffl A Daughter of the Mist Awarded First Prize in American Ambition's First Novel Contest By JOHN BERRY SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING CHAPTERS Guy Trevor, when motoring in the downtown section of New York City, meets Anne Grieve by rescuing her from a runaway, and they motor out to where she lives — a barren wasteland beyond the Bronx. There he learns that she knows many things concerning his past life and his eccentric father, who lives in a so-called Black House in Italy. He is amazed at her faculty for being able to tell him about his family, since he has never met her before, and he is so infatuated with her that he proposes marriage. She at first resents, but when he offers to take her to his father's home, she agrees, first telling him who she is and that she has selected this barren wasteland as her home to hide and to wander about unmolested in search of information concerning her past. Night after night and day after day Trevor motors to her hut, and together they roam about the wastelands. An elf-like creature by the name of Sal, who picks rubbish from the heaps of debris, is Anne's only real companion, and from a distance she craftily watches Trevor's love-making, and at the first opportunity teases Anne. One day when Trevor makes his daily visit to Anne's hut, he tells her of a telegram he received, announcing his father's death, and that he will be gone abroad a few weeks to attend to the funeral details. While he is absent, Paul Lester, who has treacherous designs, calls at the hut, and after a heated argument, Anne fells him with a blow on the head, for she has long determined to kill him on account of his constant hounding her. When Lester rallies a short time afterwards, a spot of blood is left on the rocks near Anne's door, and when Sal taunts her about murdering him, she really feels frightened and is glad when Trevor returns from his foreign trip. He learns of the attempted murder through Sal, who points to the spot of blood, and when Anne shakes Sal, Sal determines to have vengeance, and asserts she will follow her to the Black House across the sea. Trevor then tells Anne how his father made him take the name of Trevor in lieu of Tremaine, and also that his father was insane for years, and that the murderer of his father is not known. This does not concern Anne as much as her anxiety to cover up the spot of blood, which would reveal her crime to the authorities. When Trevor finally sees the blood he senses that Anne was the murderess as intimated by Sal. That night they decide to leave this place, and they .ride to the church, and the Daughter of the Mist becomes Mrs. Guy Trevor. Their trip across the ocean proves uneventful, and when they arrive at the Black House Anne is horrified at the gloomy, ebon-walled mansion on the barren hill. When eating their first meal a servant by the name of Simkins, who has been in the family for years, looks at Anne in such a strange way that Trevor remarks that she has made an impression on him, which mystifies Anne. While she composes herself from his searching glances, a letter arrives, addressed to her, and the contents frighten her. Trevor wants to know what it contains, and she tells him it means a visit to the neighboring suburb. He wants to accompany her on account of the roads being very dark, but she refuses, and leaves him. After she is gone, and Trevor anxiously awaits her return to learn the nature of the strange request, Paul Lester, disguised as a physician and using the name of Obadiah Rattray, M. D., sends a card in to Trevor by Simkins. Simkins tells Trevor that the strange caller keeps continually smiling and causes Trevor to wonder who this stranger might be, not suspecting that it was Lester. Rattray and a colleague enter the library and tell Trevor he is insane and proceed to take him to the madhouse. Trevor objects, and a conflict ensues, with the result that Trevor is overpowered and strangled. Then they feel that Trevor is temporarily out of the way and proceed to carry his body from the room. In the doorway they find Anne, who senses that the note from Lester was only a ruse to absent her from the house. At the point of a pistol she commands them to stop. Amazed at her unexpected appearance on the scene, they halt and stand stupefied. Anne compels them to carry Trevor to the adjoining room. They at first demur, noticing the seriousness of her countenance. Despite his disguise, Anne recognizes Rattray as Paul Lester. Thwarted in his attempt to accomplish his purpose of putting Trevor out of the way, he pleads with Anne to aid him to get possession of the Tremaine fortune. She refuses, and Lester taunts her about being a murderess, but she stands firm in her loyalty to Trevor and tells him Trevor will never know what really happened on the wasteland. When Trevor awakes in the morning his head is ringing from the effects of the struggle the night previous, and in talking to Anne, he learns the designs of Rattray, and determines to prove that he is not hereditarily insane, by hunting for his family tree record, and concludes to be on guard whenever Lester again appears on the scene. Anne walks to the village to find the Imp of the Wasteland, but in vain. While at dinner, Simkin craftily passes her a note requesting her to meet him in the library. They walk through the woods, and only the weird cries of an owl could be heard. Simkin's revelations startle her and she determines to find out what he knows, but he is reticent. Even the questioning of all the house servants fails to throw any additional light on the subject. Later, from the window, Anne sees a man fall from a horse. When brought into the house, the man is found to be Lester, alias Osmund Fairbank. Trevor recognizes him despite his disguise and orders him to remain until recuperated. A doctor is summoned. A stranger arrives and gives the name of Dr. Wm. Darby. He explains that the regular physician is absent on a case and he came at his request. After attending the injuries of Lester, he departs. Later, Anne perceives a servant leaving Fairbank's room and questions her, but gains no satisfaction. Noticing a letter in her hands, she grabs it and reads contents. Finding a clue, she departs for London. She returns to the Black House brimful of information. Important discoveries follow, and a separation is intimated. After heated discussion, a visitor arrives on the scene and adds to the complex situation. CHAPTER XVIII Evening merged into night, and no events disturbed the seeming calm of the Black House. As the drug-habitue, after an enforced period of divorcement from his Lady of the Poppies, shows none of those wild longings that later, on resumed indulgence, change into gratified complacency with never a hint of preceding soul-sick torture — so the mansion of the ebon walls, after the terrible scene in the library when Trevor cast Anne from his heart, took on its wonted eerie quietude as though nothing had happened. Petite Virginia LePage, who, despite her French name, talked unaccented English, was shown to her apartment by Simkin, at whose strong and patrician face she flashed more than one furtive glance. She excused herself from appearing at dinner, pleading headache and thus secluding herself from view for the night. Trevor kept to his room also, returning untouched the dinner sent him by Simkin. Anne had no appetite; so the dining-room was deserted. Even the butler, whose poise was usually unaffected either by the blandishment or buffeting of circumstances, fell a victim to the melancholy lassitude that prevailed. His duties done, he said good-night to his mistress, although there were many things he wished to say to her, confidences that were almost of a confessional character and that were festering his soul. Anne, waiting — for what ? — in her room, heard the hall clock strike midnight, the hour sinister. She hurried to the door and glanced out. Down the hall in the leaden-colored semi-light of the shrouded night-lamp were two dim figures. In an instant one of them disappeared in Madame LePage's room. The other came down towards Anne, unaware that she was an onlooker. It was Johanna Lane. Anne stepped out and barred her way to the stairs. The stolid housemaid came to an unhurried halt. Only her greenish eyes seemed to widen. "What have you been doing, Johanna?" "I took Madame LePage a cup of hot water. She rang." "How did you happen to be in the kitchen at this hour?" "I went there to get a cup of hot water for myself." They looked at each other, the two women. Anne was baffled. She believed that Johanna was not telling the truth. But this was not disquieting. The disturbing question was this : Was the maid, like Madame LePage, an ally of Lester? "You may go, Johanna." There was a faint smile on the maid's white face as she vanished into the dimness of the lower hall — at least so it seemed to her mistress, whose senses, always acute, were doubly so tonight. Anne waited a moment, then went noiselessly towards Lester's room. She halted at his door and listened. There were voices — Lester's and Trevor's ! Only a low indistinguishable murmur could be heard, with now and then a detached word, and that half guesswork. Of these words, real and fancied, Anne caught "wasteland" — "money" — "blood" — "Sal!" Then came the phrase in Lester's voice: "murder of your father!" — after which Trevor gave a low horrified cry. Then the murmuring was resumed in softer tones ; and Anne, being unable to distinguish anything, returned to her own room. — And thus in the silent and underhand battle at the Black House ended Anne's midnight sortie. Weary from long wakefulness, she slept through the rest of the night and far into the morning. When, refreshed yet vaguely anxious, she hurried downstairs, she learned from Simkin that Madame LePage had breakfasted in the breakfast-room and that Trevor, taciturn and frowning, had gone for a spin in his roadster. "These are desperate days . . ." she said. "Our part is to wait," he answered. She noted his emphasis on the word "our." It gave her a slight start — and yet it imparted comfort. Simkin's help would be invaluable to her in this combat in the mists now beginning at the Black House. She had not sought it, she was indeed somewhat averse to accept it, as his mysterious personality was an irritant in itself. But she could not deny his power, even if she could still defy his deft kindliness. She held out her hand. "My friend, I shall let you help me all you can. I trust you." His stoicism melted. He pressed her hand and half turned away. "In war," he said, smiling faintly, "no soldier fighting shoulderto-shoulder with a recruit asks him his antecedents. Let us fight and then — fight."