Picture Play Magazine (Oct-Nov 1915)

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20 PICTURE-PLAY WEEKLY escort in a low tone, and turned back into the house. Evidently she had forgotten something, and was returning for it. D'Orelli walked on until he reached a tree but a few feet from where Giuseppe stood, and then halted. The Italian's desire for revenge grew stronger. Here was his opportunity. Giuseppe reached into his bosom and drew forth a long, thin knife. He had always carried it with him, waiting for just such a chance to avenge his wife's steps, Lady Lumley halted. She spoke with a touch of terror in her tone, and her sweet, clear voice carried plainly to the ears of Giuseppe. "I — really, I am doing a great wrong. I should not elope with you. I " "Tush !" broke in D'Orelli in quiet protest. "You can do no wrong to follow the course of your heart. Come with me, and happiness is yours — happiness that you would otherwise never enjoy." often from his wife, and having read in the papers when they spoke of 1 books, and he did not wait to furth I question his valet, who entered til house without further comment. Soon after D'Orelli and Lady Lurl ley were startled by the ringing of til doorbell. Frightened, the treachero; 1 man motioned his latest prey into ail other room, while responding to til summons. When, on opening the dooj he found himself face to face with tl I husband of the woman he had just takt I from her home, the novelist at fir: | shrank back, but, realizing that he ha | to live up to the name by which h was known to the public, and so avoi scandal, he straightened and faced Lor Lumley. "What is it that brings you at thij late hour?'' he inquired seriously. Lord Lumley appeared equally anxl ious to keep a distance from notoriety and, with the double purpose of thi and finding his wife more easily, he re plied calmly : "I found that my wife was gone, whei I returned from Italy a short time ago and, finding no explanation from her thought that you might be able to hell me locate her, as you and she wen friends. As he spoke, Lord Lumley walked ir through the open door and past D'Orelli There being no alternative, the novelist closed the door and followed into tho reception room. "I'll be back in a minute and talk it over with you," D'Orelli said, as he' ushered Lumley into the room. "I am' going upstairs." The excuse was a bad one, and Lord Lumley knew immediately that it was merely an excuse, but he played his own game, and consented. "I'll wait for you here," he answered. D'Orelli did go upstairs, and as soon as his footsteps were heard ascending. Lord Lumley rose and began a search for his wife, whom he knew was in the house. He did not have to search long, however, for a moment later a white figure appeared in the doorway and rushed forward to him. "Dear,"' Lady Lumley mumbled under her breath, as she threw her arms about her husband, "it was terrible of me. But it was not my fault. I thought you had forgotten me. and cared for me no more. This monster made me think so, with his polished ways and sneaky aims. "What were you doing there!" Lord Lu death. With the knife in midair, Giuseppe stopped. He was thinking. But what would Lady Lumley do then, he thought? And how would that help him to find his own Maria — the girl for whom he lived and for whom he would gladly have died ? On second thought, Giuseppe decided that it would be best for him to wait, and resolved to follow. Lady Lumley came from the house a moment later, and Giuseppe slouched back into the shadows. It was past midnight when Signor d'Orelli and Lady Lumley mounted the long steps in front of the beautiful home of the novelist — the "Humming Bird." Behind them, across the street, and watching their every move with catlike eyes, Giuseppe stood in the darkness. As they drew near the top of the mley demanded in a stern, half-angry voice. Across the street, the figure of the listener was moving swiftly and silently away. Giuseppe had heard enough, for he realized that Lord Lumley was to be made a victim even as he himself had been, at the hands of the treacherous D'Orelli, and he was hastening to warn his master that the danger might be avoided before it was too late. At No. 6 Curzon Street, the Italian found Lord Lumley just entering the house. Running up to his master, he exclaimed in breathless, excited tones : "He has her. Signor d'Orelli has stolen your wife, as he did my Maria. They are at his home. I saw them. Hurry, and I shall go later !" From the broken sentences of Giuseppe, Lord Lumley gathered enough to understand the facts, and turned to run in the direction of the novelist's home. He knew the address, having heard it