Picture-Play Weekly (Apr-Oct 1915)

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8 PICTURE-PLAY WEEKLY he had actually lost his voice. Motioning an explanation to the manager, and paying no heed to the number of curious actors and actresses who crowded about, the singer walked directly to his room. The rows of people who were seated before the stage were speaking aloud, questioning and making wild guesses of the cause of their idol's strange affliction. Only one of them, seated in a arise and speak to them, to make a fool of Dorville in their eyes; but he, of course, knew better. Early the following morning, while the doctor was laughing over a newspaper account of the famous opera star having lost his voice so mysteriously in the middle of a performance, the telephone rang and Van Gahl answered. The caller proved to be Gerald Dorville himself, and he wished to make an ap "Leslie," he said quietly, "you have dollars from box near the stage, showed no signs of astonishment. He alone of all the audience was not puzzled, and instead of the looks of surprise that appeared on every other countenance, his face was lighted with a broad smile of satisfaction. The man was Doctor van Gahl ! "Revenge at last !" he muttered beneath his breath. "It took a long while and hard work to hypnotize such an advanced brain as yours, friend Dorville, but I have succeeded, and never again will you find your voice again as long as I am able to hold you in my power. I have stolen it, even as you stole my sweetheart, and it is mine forever!'' Doctor van Gahl gloated over his revenge as he glanced out over the heads of the bewildered hundreds seated below him. He was almost tempted to lowered yourself to take a thousand my wallet." pointment with the doctor. Van Gahl told him to come immediately, and it was less than hour later when the two were seated in the physician's office. After nearly an hour of pretended examination, Doctor van Gahl made the announcement that he had chosen even before the opera singer arrived. "You are in a terrible state, Dorville," he confided, with outward sympathy but inward joy, "and it is doubtful in my mind if anything can be done. I should, however, suggest a long rest abroad. The change of air and atmosphere might help a great deal." Dorville innocently accepted the advice, and decided to act upon it. Van Gahl was happy to the extreme, for his hypnotic power had served two purposes. He had secured the revenge for which he had longed, and, moreover, hac by his advice been able to remove hi: victim out of the sight of Belle, thereb}' clearing the way again for a new court ship. ; Loud cheering rang through the aii" from the crowd assembled on the docl and decks of the great steamer. Be tween the cheers could be heard at intervals the name, "Dorville ! Dorville !' The opera singer's admirers were trut to him in this tragic moment in hi; career. Large cameras of newspapei photographers and small ones of pri vate individuals snapped through tht spaces between waving handkerchiefs Dorville's departure was long to be re membered by him, and the ovation ol popularity touched him deeply. Yet ht could not thank his admirers with hi; tongue ! He could but flutter his owr handkerchief in the breeze. In a corner of the deck Belle Bordei was busily occupied holding conversation with another friend, and bidding him "good-by." There were no sign; of recognition from her to Gerald Dorville. Her handkerchief was not in hei hand, and, in fact, the opera star mighi as well have not been there so far as shf was concerned. Dorville wondered a) her manner, and walked near to where she was standing. Belle looked up as he approached, cast a glance full in his eyes, and, without so much as a smile turned her back in his direction. Dorville understood. She was through with him. "They're all alike," he thought to himself ; then added quickly, as a smile appeared on his face : "No. There is one " As if in answer to his thought, a light hand touched his arm. Dorville turned to look into the sad face of Marguerite Lawson, his friend of the daisy. "I'm so sorry," she was saying in a' voice that trembled to prove that she meant her words, "I'm so sorry that you have been so unfortunate. 'And I'm sorry, too, that you are going away where I shall never see you again. But I'll remember you, Mr. Dorville, if all the world forgets. Will you read this when you are out at sea?" Gerald Dorville's eyes were wet. A tear dropped to his cheek as he accepted a little, blue envelope that the girl held out to him. He smiled and took her hand, pressing it tight in his grasp. Tears came to Marguerite's eyes, and iti( t