Movie Weekly (1922)

Authors " Writers Poets Our new method teaches you how to become a successful writer and assures you positively that your work 'will be published and broufht to the attentioin of the editors and publishers of America. Write at once. Tke Walkamore Cmbpmt> PabUsiMn, laterary Dept., Philadelphia, Pa HOW TO GET RID OF MOLES 12 A simple, safe komc treatmeat— 15 years success ia my practice. U»Us (also BIG crowdu) Dry Up. Ask fw Fra* IssUst al Fal Parlkdan WM. DAVIS, M. 9, U4 Gmm Am.. WoodhHJ— . N. JL Orphans of the Storm iContmnfd from page 26) "Away with him I" cried the count in a rage. "We'll break your prtnid spirit yet." As the chevalier gave up his sword with a military salute and then marched proudly out, the prefect sank into a chair with a hollow groan. So engrossed was he in contemplating the ruin of all his dreams of greatness that he did not hear a timid rap on the door. After a short interval it was repeated. "Jean!" called the voice of the countess faintly. "Dear Jeanr May 1 enter?" At the sound of the beloved voice, the count sprang to life. He reached the door and was kissing the band of his wife with youthful fervor. Whatever he might be to others, the grim prefect was always the devoted lover to this wife he worshipped. She was ghastly pale as she entered. "Come into the garden, Jean," she begged. "I — I have something I must tell you — something I should have told you long ago." "Always at your service, dearest," he responded, hit cares temporarily forgotten in her presence. "But do not look so senbus, my beloved, we have no weighty secrets from one another." She shivered as with a sudden chill, then, together, they went into the spacious groiuds surrounding the Hotel de Lineries. Seating herself on a marble bench and drawing her husband beside her, she plunged at. once into the pitiful story of her past. He listened, not once interrupting, his face growing whiter and whiter as the story progressed. "You sec," said the countess pathetically, at the dote of her narrative, "our marriage was blessed by the church, but banned by my family, the proud de Vaudreys. They would not permit me to tell you then and I was afraid to broach it afterwards. This blind girl' is my daughter and the girl whom you have sent to Salpetriere is her foster-sister. Put me away if you will. 1 will retire to a convent — do anything' you wish, but please, please forgive them." The wretched woman fell on her knees and dasped his feet in her hands. With tears streaming down his face, he raised her in his arms and kissed her again and again. "If you had only told me before," he sobbed. "Ah, if I had only knoWn." "And you will not give me up?" the asked, scarcely believing her own happiness. "Give you up I" he echoed, kissing her passionately. "I love you more than ever. Now we must undo the ill that has just been done. I shall send pardons a( once to dear Maurice and this girl he loves, and as for your daughter, Louise, she shall be ray daughter, too. She shall he in your anus l«fore nightfall and her captors on their way to the galleys." What pranks Fate plays I Even as the count spoke there rose a wild tumult that grew in volume every moment. .Suddenly a solitary soldier ran past. Seeing them, he slackened speed for a second and called: "Run I Run for your lifel Revolution has broken out and aristocrats are being murdered wherever they are foundl" A NATION INSANE |ENRIETTE recoiled from the' expected blow which never fell, for one of the inmates sprang forward, caught the lunatic by the elbow and with a ^ick twist sent her spinning into a corner. "Don't be afraid, little dove," counseled the woman in broad Norman dialect. "She is out of her wits but I'll protect you. Why are yon here? You don't look like rne of us." Briefly Henriette told her pitiful story. The inmates gatherrd around in deepest interest. Imprecations upon the king and the aristocracy fell like autumn hail, as the harrowing recital progressed. These were redoubled when she ceased. "Their time is coming," warned one woman, tall, gaunt, hollow-eyed and with long, stringy hair almost hiding her face. "They have fattened on our flesh for years, soon we shall drink their blood. Ah-h-hl" She cupped her hands, held them to her lips with such a fiendish expression that Henriette involuntarily shuddered and turned her face away. Woe to the luckless member of the nobility that ever fell into her clutches I To the pure, noble-minded country girl, the sights and sounds of that awful place were soul-searing. Timebardened criminals and first offenders, the insane and idiotic, were all thrust together promiscuously. She was as a lily among nettles. She longed to be b]f herself, away from the torrent of blasphemy and obscenity, away from the vile odors and the horror of it all. Narrowly dodging the cruel arms of a chained, frenzied maniac, she retreated into a corner jind gave way to tears. "What ia it, child?" asked a clear, sweet voice, and Henriette looked up to see a nun standing before her. For the second time since her entry into that awful place, Henriette told her story. Sister Genevieve, of the Order of Chanty, who tried to lead the unfortunates to a better life, listened with grave interest. "I believe your story," she stated. "One look into yoiar eyes convinces one of its truth. Do not be downcast, my dear. I shall do all in my power to help you. I feel confident that you will not be here long." When she left, Henriette felt greatly comforted. Then, too, she knew nothing ot de Vaudrey's imprisonment and felt sure that, when he learned ot it, be would move Heaven and earth in an effort to obtain her release. Her only fear was that he would not be able to learn where she was jailed. Sister Genevieve told the story of the new girl to the doctor. She was greatly moved. "What a shame r' she cried. '"The poor girl's only crime is that she has no friends. Her one great desire in life is to find her blind sister that some old woman has carried away and forced to beg." The doctcfr was lost in thought for a moment. "Let me see, let me see," he cogitated. "I did see s blind girl with an old bag somewhere. Yes I Y«tt I remember now. It was in front of Notre Dame. A very pretty girt. Her trguble is cataracts of the eye that I feel sure an operation will cure. She was with the notorious Frocharo. They live in the Rue de Bristac" Before Sister Genevieve left to return to her convent, she again sought out the still weeping girl and told her of what she had learned, gathering the girl to her bosom, despite the injury to her coif and wimple. ''Courage," she whispered, stroking the girl's long, golden hair. "The doctoi has promised to interest himself in your case. He has tremendous power and influence. 'The hour will soon arrive when you will be freed." Henriette went as far as the barred gate with the sister. She was about to turn back to the dismal, crow<fed cell, when she saw a man whose face was vaguely familiar to her. 'Tlist, mademoiselle!" he. whispered when the guard's back was turned from htiti for a moment. "Slip this paper in your bosom and read it when no one can see." "Who are you?" she asked in a tense whisper, fear of the unknown gripping her heart. "Sacre nom. du chien! Do you not know me?" the fellow demanded in a chagrined tone. "I am Picard, without whom Comte de Vaudrejr would not be able to breathe. It is true that I sold little secrets to the prefect, but the secrets I sold to de Lineries I resold to your lover. What would you? A man must live and the price of pate de foi gras is going up all the time. Farewell." With eager, trembling fingers, Henriette read the note as soon as she could find a place where she could do so with safety. There was a quarrel between two jezebels which degenerated into a free-for-all fight. Under cover of this Henriette was free to read her precious missive. It ran as follows: "Dear and very dear: Shortly after you were arrested, I was sent to the fortress at Caen, but I shall never marry anyone but you, heart of my heart. I have a chance to escape, but must not speak of it as yet. Trust Picard. He IS devoted to me as long as I pay him well. I long to clasp your dear form in my arms. Athousand, thousand kisses. Your lovi;ig. MAURICE. So Maurice was also in duress. There was sadness in the thought, terror, too. But also there was comfort in his loyalty. Over and over again she kissed the paper that had felt the imprint of his dear fingers. The hour grew late, but sleep in such a den was impossible. Honriette paced backward and forward in the confines of that filthy and noisome dungeon, where the most abandoned creatures in all Paris slept the sleep of utter exhaustion. She was glad to be alone, to hold communion with her thoughts and the man she loved, whose missive she pressed tightly to her heart. What would be the outcome of that beautiful love of heis? Ah, who could say? The present was so dark, surely there must be sunlight somewhere? In the distance an ominous sound, like the growl of a wild beast, was beard. It grew louder and louder, swelling to the dimensions of a wild uproar. Henriette strained her ears in vague terror of the unknown. The wretched creatures, aroused from forgetfulness. sprang to their feet in wild alarm, looking at erich other with questioning eyes. A rumor spread throu3hnut the length and breadth of Salpetriere. It reached the inmates of Hcnriette's dungeon and was repeated with bated breath at first, as something too good to be believed, and then, when repeated, greeted with a wild huzzah. "The people have risen! The people have risen!" shrieked Leontaine, the Norman woman, in her broad dialect. "The BastiMe has fallen and the prisoners released! Now they are coming to set us free. Oh, thanks be to the Virgin and all the blessed saints!" {Contitmtd next week) ^ BETWEEN REELS A young woman recently gained some considerable fame for making a swim completely around Manhattan Island, but Wesley Barry, better known to film fans as "Freckles," has a pet that recently hung up a record that would make this young woman's aquatic effort look like mere local traffic. The pet in question is a small alligator, and the blooming thing swam all the way from New York to Los Angeles. Oh, yes, it did! You see, Wesley kept the little faieast in the wash-bowl of the Pullman all the way over. 9^SALE AlUSilk Fibre SWEATER HAZEL DAWN FHin Star has selected this aa one of the prettiest styles of the seaSOD 4X99— Smart Sport Sweater made of lustrous block-patterned fibre-silk mignonette (a material doeely resembling tricoiette but of finer texture). 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