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

July, 1919 PHOTO-PLAY JOURNAL 39 active loathing — you dog!" Beside himself, he shook him as he might have shaken the animal he insulted by the comparison. "By God, I could kill you ....!" he exclaimed, furiously, "but I'll have to content myself by kicking you out of the house." Lester broke away from him. In the meantime Madame LePage had hurried stealthily around behind them to the French window leading to the piazza. As Trevor finished his ferocious denunciation of Lester she opened it and in came Johanna Lane and — Sal. The imp of the wasteland burst into her strident little laugh. Better frocked, but with mien as knowing and mischievously menacing as ever, she looked at each one of them — longest at Anne, who stood motionless, speechless, clearly taken by surprise. "Huh!" cried the child contemptuously. "Bloody Anne Grieve ... !" Trevor shuddered and glanced at his wife. The old unreasoning, self-created Fear was in his eyes. Lester, who stood near, could scarcely conceal his delight— Sal had made a good beginning — all he needed to tinge Trevor's superactive imagination was the Fear to work upon. Anne, who succeeded in mastering her numbing faculties, saw the new and perilous turn the attack was taking. But she remained silent, not heeding Sal's challenge to hostilities. The child, however, was not through with her. "See, Anne Grieve, you've brought it on yourself. I told you I'd get even with you. Once upon a time I didn't hate you like I do now — ! But that night when you jumped on me on account of that blood you spilt ..." Anne looked appealingly at Trevor. He was already looking at her — but with the Fear in his eyes. Sal, laughing disdainfully, turned to Virginie LePage. "Why didn't you. come for me instead of sendin' that pale-face?" she queried with a scornful nod towards Johanna. Virginie, evidently perturbed, signaled Sal to keep silent. This angered the imp. She went to the little black-eyed woman, who just then seemed an imp herself, and shook her bony little fist in her face. "I don't like you," she cried, "even if you did give me this ugly dress! There's somethin' behind everything you do for me — !" Not attempting to hide her agitation, Virginie bent over the child and whispered in her ear. Sal gave a little laugh, then, glancing at Anne, muttered half to herself: "Yes, I hate her more!" She then marched to Trevor, whose gaze had scarcely left her since her dramatic entry. "Say — do you remember the night on the wasteland when I showed you the blood?" "Yes ..." She glanced at Anne. "She didn't want you to look at it, did she?" "No ..." "Well, I've got somethin' else to show you now — somethin' in the wood beyond the lake — and she won't want you to look at this! Ask her."' But he only gave a strained laugh. "That isn't necessary. She doesn't care." "Look at her and see — !" Anne did care — perhaps more because of the black mystery of it all. She took a step towards Trevor and held out her hand appealingly. "Don't go," she begged, "for my sake — " He hesitated. It was plain that he was becoming himself again. Lester saw his changing expression and frantically motioned Virginie to urge Sal to greater efforts. But at the little woman's timid approach the imp waved her away. "He'll go all right," she said laconically, "he's that kind. He's spooky and all that — you can see it in his eyes." The wise little observation amused Trevor. He gave a wholesome laugh. "We'll all go," he said. "It will be amusing." "Guy," pleaded Anne, "can't you see that this entire affair has been pre-arranged? This evil-minded child was brought here by Lester to appear at the psychological moment to hypnotize you!" — think of it, to hypnotize you, a grown man ! They must regard you as a mere child — as a poor, hysterical, negative creature ready to pass into trance-like passivity at the glance of this wretched little Sal. Can't you see the stage is set, with you to take the role of clown ?" Trevor thought a moment. It was apparent that he had at least given her appeal attention. "Anne," he replied at last, "you involuntarily exaggerate the thing. You must remember that this impossible little Sal interested me on the wasteland. Why shouldn't I allow her to amuse me now ?" Anne was obdurate. "This is not a coincidence, Guy. It is a part of Lester's conspiracy. Ask him how he happened to bring Sal across the sea. Ask him how he stole her from her father." Trevor looked anxious — but Madame LePage seemed more so. Trevor, however, was not convinced by Anne's objection. "Come," he said, "we'll all go and see what she has to show us. Sal, you lead the way." He turned to Anne. "I admit it's absurd in a way — but at that it's amusing. The fact — and I know it to be one — that it is prearranged makes it all the funnier. As I said, I'm perfectly aware of Lester's game. It's been a bore till now, as well as a monumental farce. But this child's appearance has added an element of amusement and interest. I'm eager to see what they're going to make her do." "Make me — ?" cried Sal, shrilly. "They can't make me do nuthin'. I'm just doin' 'em a favor, that's all. They promised to find my mother for me, and — " Suddenly Virginie clapped her hands over the child's mouth. Sal fought like a tiger cub. But Trevor stepped in between them, made temporary peace, took Sal by the hand, then went out on the piazza and down the steps, Virginie and Lester following, the latter forgetting all about his crutches and escorting the little LePage quite friskily. Anne waited a moment to have a word with Simkin, who entered the music room as the others left. She then hurried after the rest. Simkin himself, with a fugitive smile on his face, followed Anne — at a distance. Anne caught up with the others at the lake, which was skirted in silence. In the misty moonlight the restless waters were a sickly green ; and the pine wood, which the party soon entered, was only intermittently lit — and then but dimly. Of itself the night had a witchery. But there were other spells — remoter possibly, but just as irresistible. For the company, defiling up the narrow path, remained stubbornly silent. Saucy and garrulous Sal was strangely speechless, forbearing to quarrel with Virginie or to sneer at Anne. Lester, although still disguised as the poet Fairbank, with rehearsed pleasantries crowding his lips, was moodily mute. Virginie's mouth, usually framing bizarre sentiments or smart commentaries, had half disappeared in a thin and implacable line between two ugly wrinkles descending from her pert nose. The silence of Johanna Lane, which was always absolute, seemed tonight intensified ; while Trevor's loquacious amusement had mysteriously petrified into a stony grimness. As for Anne, she was too busy thinking to talk. While she was, of course, trying to anticipate the nature of Sal's promised revelation, this did not occupy her mind so much as the probable connection of that revelation with — Simkin s secret! This amazingly bold concatenation, while purely the creation of Anne's mental processes, was not so forced as to be wholly outside the pale of a basis in fact. With increasing wonder, she recalled the night when she and Simkin had fenced with invisible swords on the shore of the lake. Their gruesome colloquy had reached a dramatic climax when Sal's impish laugh was heard proceeding from this very mood ! Simkin's secret, according to Simkin himself, had to do with something which had disappeared; and Sal's disclosure had to do with something she had evidently found. And, as added weight in favor of Anne's theory, Simkin had insisted on following the party into the wood tonight ! She glanced back and saw him in the moonlight. He smiled and waved his hand. The climb was a long one. Virginie was panting, and Lester was blowing hard. Suddenly Sal, who still acted as guide and leader, gave a little cry. They had reached a small clearing. On one side was a decayed log surrounded with brush. Sal, with considerable appreciation of the dramatic value of the occasion, led the party to the log with slow, rhythmical steps, then turning suddenly, called shrilly to Madame LePage. "Say, little Snap-Eyes," she cried, "you promised you'd find me my mother if I brought these people here tonight to show up Anne Grieve !" "Hush," begged Virginie. "Ain't you goin' to keep your promise? I want you to say it out loud before everybody so I can hold you to it !" Virginie exchanged glances with Lester. Anne's eyes, like Sal's, were fixed upon her burningly: And, curiously enough, they seemed even more tensely expectant than the child's. "Out with it !" cried Sal. "You'll find me my mother?" "Yes ..." The imp called shrilly to Johanna Lake to turn over the log and remove some of the brush. The pallid maid, with impassive face and steady hands, did so. And there in the moonlight lay a dead man, with body frozen stiff and neck black and blue with marks made by the fingers that had choked him. It was Anne only who gave a cry. It was Anne only who bent over him. "Mack ... !" she whispered, recoiling and turning instinctively towards Lester. Trevor, who was singularly calm, made a closer inspection of the dead man's face. "It is your 'learned colleague,' Dr. Rattray !" he said, with biting sarcasm to Lester. "It's too bad you are not sharing his fate. You deserve it, God knows." Lester grew as pale as the corpse. Things were not coming out as he had schemed. But he still held his trump card in reserve. Trevor, with fine nonchalance, turned away from Mack's body. "It's all a wretched bore," he said. "The death of a man like that — or like you, Lester, for that matter — is of no more importance than the death of a dog. What is it to us that somebody killed your ally in crime ? I congratulate the slayer, whoever he was. He did his