Image provided by: Morrow County Museum; Heppner, OR
About Heppner gazette-times. (Heppner, Or.) 1925-current | View Entire Issue (Feb. 28, 1929)
HEPPNER GAZETTE TIMES, HEPPNER, OREGON, THURSDAY, FEB. 28, 1929. PAGE THREE HE DC IUUSfRATD BY IMNK3JDRUEN WHAT HAPPENED BEFORE 1 Palmero is the scene. There an exile, Leonardo dl Marlonl, has come for love of Adrlenne Cartucclo, who spurns him. He meets an Englishman. Lord St. Mau rice, who falls In love with Adrlenne on sight. Leonardo sees his sister Mar gharita, who tells him his love for Ad rlenne is hopeless. But he pleads with her to arrange an accidental meeting, to say farewell, between Adrlenne and him. She consents. That night the English man is informed of an attempt being made to carry off Slgnorlna Cartucclo and Margharita, who are walking, by brigands employed by a rejected suitor, on a lonely road. He rushes to the scene, and proves able to rescue the ladies. Inflamed by the failure of his scheme, Leonardo sees Margharita, who shows him she knows that he was instigator of the attempted attack. The English man now sees Adrlenne often. The Englishman, sitting In the hotel, finds a dagger at his feet. Looking up .he sees the Sicilian, and scents trouble. "We sat here a week ago," recalls Leonardo. Lord St. Maurice nods. Leonardo and the Englishman quar rel. The Englishman at first refused to accept a chellenge to duel, then when the Italian Blaps him consents. The two men face each other ready to fight to the death. Marghttrita stops the duel by coming just In the nick of time to save the Englishman from his fate, with two officers who arrest the exile Leonardo. Leonardo vows vengeance. After 25 years in jatl he is again at his hotel, an old, broken man with only memories loft to him. NOW 00 ON WITH THE STORY For through all his apathy he was conscious of a great sickening dis appointment, something gone out of his life which had helped him, day by day, through all that weary Im prisonment Dear to his heart had grown that hope of standing one day before the masters of his Or der, and claiming, as his rightful due, vengeance upon those whose word had sent him into captivity. Dear to his memory and treasured among his thoughts had grown that hope. In his prison house he had grown narrower; other thoughts and purposes had faded away. That one only remained, growing strong er day by day, until it had seized hold of his whole being. He lived only through it and with It. Now he had gone to Signor Bartlezzl, only to find that the Order had given up its old purposes and prin cipleshad become a mere social club. Given some soul-absorbing pur pose, some cherished end, however dimly seen through the mists of fu turity, and a man may preserve his reason through the longest captiv ity; while, day by day, his narrow ing life contracts till all conscience, all hope, all sentiment, become the slaves of that one passionate desire. Day by day, it looms larger before him; day by day, all doubts con cerning It grow weaker, and the justice of It becomes clearer and more unquestioned. Right and wrong, justice and Injustice, accord ing to other men's standards, have no power over it in his own thoughts. His moral sense slum bers. So deeply has it become graft ed into his life, that he no more questions its right to exist than he docs the presence of the limbs upon his body. As surely as the night follows day, so surely does his whole being gravitate toward the accomplishment of hts desire. It is a part of what is left of his life, and if It is smitten, his life is smitten. They are at once sympathetic and identical, so closely entwined that to sever them is death to both. Thus It was with Count Marlonl, and thus It was that, day by day, he sat In his sitting-room slowly pining to death. Rude feet had trampled upon the desire of his life, and the wound was open and bleeding. Only a little while longer and he would have turned upon his side with a sigh, and yielded up his last breath; and, so far as his numbed faculties could have conceived a thought, death would have seemed very plea sant to him. He was dying of lone liness, of disappointment and des pair. The people at the hotel had made several attempts to rouse him, but In vain. He answered no questions, and In his quiet way resented intru sion. He paid whatever was de manded, and he gave no trouble. The manager, who knew his history from a ahort cutting In a newspa per which had chronicled his arriv al in London, was at his wits' end to know how to save him. He had once endeavored to reason gently with his eccentric visitor, and he had been bidden quietly to leave the room. On his endeavoring to make one more appeal, the Count had risen quietly and pointed to the door. "I wish only to be left in peace," he said, with a touch of dignity in his sad, calm manner. "If you can not do that I will go away to an other hotel. Choose!" The manager had bowed and withdrawn In silence. But he was a kind-hearted man, and he was still troubled about the matter. Day by day the Count was growing weaker; before long he would doubtless die from sheer distaste of living as much as from any actual disease. Something ought to be done toward communicating with his friends, if he had any. With a certain amount of reluctance the manager, as a last resource, penned the following advertisement and sent it to the principal London pa pers: "If there are any friends or rela tives still alive of Count Leonardo dl Marioni, who has recently been set free by the Italian Government after a long term of imprisonment, they are requested to communicate, personally, If possible, with the manager of the Hotel Continental, where the Count is now lying dan gerously ill." The great room in which the Count Marioni was sitting was al most in darkness, for the afternoon was dull and foggy, and the curtains were partially closed. There was no lamp lit, and the only light came from the brightly-burning fire near which the Count was sitting in an armchair ludicrously too large for his frail body. The flames fell upon his white, worn face, with its deep branding lines, and gleamed in his great sad eyes, so bright and dry that they seemed like mirrors for the firelight. His hair and short unkempt beard were as white as snow, matching even the unnatural pallor of his skin, and his black frock coat was buttoned across a' chest which would have been nar row for a consumptive body. He did, indeed, look on the threshold of death. He hud not turned his head at the opening or closing of the door, but presently another sound broke the silence. It was a woman's sob, and as he slowly turned his head, a tall, graceful figure moved forward out of the shadows, and he heard his name Boftly murmured. Leonardo!" His hand went up to his forehead. Was it a dream; or was he indeejl- back once more in the days of his youth, back among the pine woods which topped his castle, walking side by side with her whose pre sence seemed to make the long sum mer days one sweet dream of light? The familiar odor of violets and wild hyacinths seemed to fill the room. The fog-bound city, with its ceaseless roar, existed for him no longer. The sun of his own dear country warmed his heart, and the set wind blew in his eager face. And she was there his queen the great desire of his weary life. All his pulses leaped with the joy of her presence. Five-and-twenty years of lonely misery were blotted out Ah! memory is a wonderful magician! "Leonardo! Will you not speak to me?" Again that voice! Where was he now? Face to face with her on the sands at Palermo, deceived, betray ed, given over to the enemies of his country, and by her the woman for whom his passionate love had been his sole crime. Listen! The air is full of that cry of threatened ven geance. Hark how the echoes ring back from the cliffs. "By the sun, and the sky, and the sea, and the earth, I swear that, as they continue unchanged and unchanging, so shall my hate for you remain!" Darkness a prison cell. Year by year, year by year, darkness, solitude, misery! See the black hair turn gray, the strength of manhood wasting away, the eye growing dim, the body weak. Year by year, year by year, it goes on. What was that scratched upon the whitewashed walls? What was the cry which rang back from the towering cliff! "Hate unchang ing and unchanged!" The same ever the same. "Leonardo, have you no word for me?" He rose slowly from his chair, and fixed his eyes upon her. Before their fire she shrank back, appalled. Was It a storm about to burst upon her? No! The words were slow and few. "You have dared to come here; dared to come and look upon your handiwork! Away! Out of my sight! You have seen me. Go!" Tears blinded her eyes .The sight of him was horrible to her. She for got, in her great pity, that justice had been upon her side. She sank upon her knees before him on the velvet pile carpet "Leonardo, for the love of God, forgive me!" she sobbed. "Oh! it is painful to see you thus, and to know the burden of hate which you carry in your heart. Forgive me! Forgive us both!" He stooped down until his ghast ly face nearly touched hers. "Curse you!" he muttered hoarse ly. "You dare to look at me, and ask for forgiveness. Never! never! Ev ery morning and night I curse you. I curse you when my mother taught me to pray. I live for nothing else. If I had the strength I would stran gle you where you stand. Hell's curses and mine ring in your ears and sit in your heart day by day and night by night! Away with you! Away, away!" She was a brave woman, but she fled from the room like a hunted animal, and passed out of the hotel with never a look to the right or to the left. Count Marioni sat in his old atti tude, brooding over the fire from the depths of his armchair, with a sad, vacant look in his dull eyes. At first he took no notice of the open ing of the door, but as the light, smooth footsteps crossed the floor toward him and hesitated at his side, he glanced wearily up. In a moment his whole expression was changed. He was like a numbed and torpid figure suddenly galvan ized into acute life. He passed his hand swiftly across his eyes, and his thin fingers grasp ed the sides of his chair with ner vous force. Ah! he must be dream ing again! It was one of the faces of the past, tempting and mocking him! Yet, no! she stood there; surely she stood there. Mother of God! Was this madness come at last? "Margharita!" he cried, stretch ing out his hands toward her. "Mar gharita!" It was no dream then, nor was it madness. It was truth. There were loving, clinging arms around his neck, a passionate, weeping face pressed close against his. Hot tears, Lher tears were trickling down his hollow cheeks, kindling his stag nant blood by their warmth, and thawing the apathetic chill whose icy hand had lain so heavy upon him. A sob escaped him. His eag er, trembling fingers pushed back the clustering hair from her tem ples. He peered wonderingly into her face. It must be a vision; it would surely fade away, and leave him once more in the outer dark ness. Five-and-twenty years had passed! She had been like this then! A sense of bewilderment crept in upon him. "Margharita!" he exclaimed fee bly. "I do not understand! You are Margharita; you have her hair, her eyes, her mouth! And yet of course, it cannot be. Ah no! it cannot be!" "You are thinking of my mother," she cried softly. "She loved you so much. I am like her, am I not?" "Married! Margharita married! Ah, of course! I had forgotten. And you are her child. My sister's child. Ah, five-and-twenty years is a long time." "It is a shameful, cruel time," she cried passionately. "My mother us ed to tell me of it, when I was a little girl, and her voice would shake with anger and pity. Fran cesca, too, would talk to me about you. I prayed for you every eve ning when I was little, that they might soon set you free again. Oh, it was cruel!" She threw her arms around his neck, and he rested his head upon her shoulder. It was like an elixir of life for him. "And your mother, Margharita?" he asked fearfully. "She is dead," was the low reply. "Ah! Margharita dead! She was so like you, child. Dead! Five-and-twenty years is a weary while. Dead!" (Continuer next week.) Let us help you , remodel your home Often the question cornea up, "what shall I do with my old home?" To sell meant to sacrifice. The answer is remodel. Thousand, are do ing it because it it simple, practical, and often well worth while. Another room new roof a new entrance or a new front whatever the prob lem, we will be (lad to have you consult us. We will estimate the cost of materials for you and recom- mend the most practical for your particular purpose, MATERIALLY YOURS, TUM-A-LUM LUMBER CO. YARDS AT HEPPNER, LEX INGTON AND IONE Speaking of professors, who ori ginated the expression, "a happy faculty." Wet "What's good for flu besides whiskey?" Wetter "Good Lord, who cares?" He "May I occupy part of your hammock tonight?" She (sweetly) "You may occupy all of it. Pete and I are going to a dance." Straw for Sale Lexington, 5F32. For a GOOD MEAL at ANY TIME ELKHORN RESTAURANT ED CHINN, Prop. Re-roof With JOHNS-MANVILLE Asbestos Shingles ABESTOS SHINGLES, ROLL ROOFING, ASPHALT SHINGLES and ROOFING For Sale By Heppner Planing Mill & Lumber Yard A. R. REID, Prop. Phones: Mill 9F25; Yard Main 1123 Heppner Gazette Times, Only $2.00 Per Year Central Market for the best in Meats. FRESH AND CURED MEATS Fish on Fridays. Oysters, Clams, Shell Fish. Central Market HENRY SCHWARZ & SON m mi or PHONE or leave orders at Phelps Grocery Co. Home Phone 1102 HEPPNER TRANS FER COMPANY Heppner Hotel Building CASH AND CABRYl TONE' CHAIN STORES Phone Main 1082 ENT We have prepared a number of specials for this week end that should particularly Interest the people who observe Lent These specials should assist you In planning your meals during this season FRIDAY AND SATURDAY SPECIALS HOMINY EHRMAN'S BEST 2 Cans 29C 4 Cans 55C NO. Vt TINS RAISINS SUN MAID 4-lb. Bag 29c PRUNES SUN MAID 4-lb. Bag 45c SWEET SPUDS EHRMAN'S BEST 2 Cans 49C 4 Cans 95C NO. 2'a TINS SUPER SUDS 2 Packages . . . 19C SAUERKRAUT ROYAL (MB 2 Cans 35c 4 Cans 65C NO. 2Kj TINS LETTUCE Large, Fresh, Solid Heads 2 Heads 25C mi mi mi Wit . 53 6, mi S5 IS DESCENT BAKING POWDER CAULIFLOWER O II "T" 0 FANCY WHITE 3-lb. Tins ... .87c PerHead .... 25c BLACK FIGS BULK 5 Lbs 45c P. & G. SOAP LAUNDRY 20 Bars 85C WHITE NAPTIIA LARGE HEADS . ORANGES FANCY FRESH NAVALS 2 Dozen 49C We Deliver Orders Over $3.00 FREE in the City Limits ASPARAGUS EL RIO 2C ans 55c FANCY SMALL WHITE ASPARAGUS STONE'S COFFEE SUPREME BLEND 1 lb 49c 3 lbs $1.45 SPECIAL BLEND 1 lb 39c 3 lbs $1.10 Try It You'll Like It ! SPAGHETTI VAN CAMP'S 4 Cans 45C ITALIAN STYLE NO. 8 TINS mi :: m SB m :! oA flight of Fun and Frolic with The Elks Minslxels From Pendleton Thursday, Mar. 7 Heppner Auditorium oAuspices Heppner Lodge Jo. 358 30 Songs, 'Dances, Monologues, Trios, and ZMany Specialty cNymbers 8:00 o'clock cAdmission p.oo; Children under 12, 50c DANCE oAt Elks' Temple immediately following the show, music by cRpse (jrey Dance Orchestra m m f9 m &2 ViB 83 &3 $3 Miff ft" tSi 3 rt -! m km