Pictures and the Picturegoer (October 1915 - March 1916)

PICTURES AND THE PICTUREGOER 152 Week e:> THE MYSTERY OF A HANSOM CAB Adapted from the B. and C. " Ideal " Picture Play by NORMAN HOWARD. MARK FRETTLEBY sat abstractedly at the photograph which stuod upon the desk by his >>i(le. The face was that of a decidedly itiful woman— an actress whom long years gone by he had made his wife, and. to judge by the complex expression upon his face, it was obvious that the union had little but bitter recollections and sad memories for him. She had deserted him, shortly after their marriage, for an old " actor7' Lover she had known in her earlier days, and, turning a deaf ear to her husband's entreaties, she had gone back to the gayer and more bohemian life of the stage. Her subsequent crossing to America with hernew lover, and the despatch of a forged death certificate to her husband, which she had persuaded a doctor aquaintauce to write out for h<n\ had caused the final severing of their ties. Upon its receipt Frettleby had been overwhelmed with grief, and had succumbed to an attack of brain-fever, his recovery being due to the excessive care and devotion of his nurse. Then he had realised that the feeling he bore towards t he nurse was something greater than gratitude, and eventually he had made her his second wife. Their happiness, however, was only of a temporary duration, for at the birth of their infant daughter his wife died. Since, he had lived only for his daughter who was now approaching womanhood, and many anxious moments had he spent in worrying over her future welfare. " God grant she may never know what 1 have known!" he prayed. His reverie was interrupted by the maid. ■' A Mr. White to see you, Sir." "Good gracious! how you startled me! " answered Mark, rising "A Mi1. White, eh ? I don't seem to know the name. Still, show him in." "' G 1 afternoon." cried his visitor a few seconds later. " Mr. Mark Frettleby, "Say," he added price— now I belie\ e ? " Yes. 1 am Mr sit down ? " "Thanks. My Frettleby. Won't you name is Oliver White, and I've cornea lone way to see you upon an unpleasant matter." " Indeed ! Pray proceed." '• Some years ago — kindly correct me if I make a mistake you married a wellknown actress named Rosanna. She lef 1 you Boon afterwards,. and finally drifted to the ' States.'" Mark nodded. '• Later, recemug her death certificate, yon married a .train, and possess a daughter by j our second wife." "Youare quite right. Mr. er White. but really I tail to si e how my domestic affairs can possibly interest you." "Directly, they don't; indirectly, they do. Should your first wife be, still alive, Mark Frettleby, what is it worth to you to have I he fact remain a secret p, " Mark looked puzzled. " First wife still alive! What do you mean? I don't understand you, sir." "What grounds have you tor believing your tiist wife dead, might 1 ask P " "AH the grounds in the world! Her MILTON as Mark death certificate is at the present moment in my ] surely more conclusive proof than tb Buous." White smiled evilly. "The certificate you refer to is a forgery." he di. quietly ; " written at the instigation of your first w i: She is alive and under my care at present, and I can pro Mark sprang to his feet. " You blackguard ! So blackmail's your game, is it ? « I tt of my house before I have you thrown out !" White reached for his hat. "Of course, if that's bow you regard the matter," he remarked resignedly, " there's an end of it ; only I scarcely th< >ugh would like your daughter to know that she was born ■ wedlock, and in consequence " " Silence, you cur ! Don't dare to mention her name a s Bring me the proofs concerning the statement you have made here to-day, and I will listen to you further. In the ; time, get out ! " As he rose, the door flew open, and a vision of woi loveliness, in the shape of Mark's daughter Madge, burst int .< the room. " Daddie ! Daddie ! " she cried excitedly—" Oh ! I'm a sorry; I thought you were alone," she added confusedly. " It's all right, little one," assured her father affectioj patting her on the shoulder ; "runaway for awhile. 1 shan't be very long now." "Jove ! what a lovely girl," muttered White, as Madge lett the room. turning and facing Mark : " I'll fix my )u the spot. The price of my silence and the recovery of your first wife's marriage certificate lies with your daughter." "How do you mean? What price ? " " Your daughter's hand in man " Never !" cried .Mark, striking the table with his fist. " Produce your pi audi will buy your silence, but not at the expense of my daughter's happiu "It is your daughter's band or nothi _ came buck the implacable demand. " I shall bring the proofs and call back your answer later. Your wife fell into my hands accidentally, after she had been deserted by her Lover in the ' States.' 1 have been put boa good deal of trouble over finding out what 1 know al and rest assured, Mark Erettleb; a man to waste opportunities, day!" And without further comment, White left the room. When. B few days later. Brian I gerald, .Mark's junior partner, asked for Madge's hand in marriage and was fused his aimer knew no bounds. He had beard aboutWhite's visits and the effect they had had. and having obtained bis address, lie now paid White a \ isit V i demand an explanation. A terrible quarrel resulted, toward the ROSMER 1'ieliteby. '