Heppner gazette-times., March 07, 1929, Page PAGE THREE, Image 3

HEPPNER GAZETTE TIMES, HEPPNER, OREGON, THURSDAY, MAR. 7, 1929.
PAGE THREE
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WHAT HAPPENED BEFORE I
Fulmero la the Bcene. There an exile,
Leonardo dl Marlonl, has come for love
of Adrienne Cartucclo, who spurns him.
He meets an Englishman, Lord St. Mau
rice, who falls in love with Adrienne on
eight. Leonardo sees his sister Mar
gharita, who tells him his love for Ad
rienne Is hopeless. But he pleads with
her to arrange an accidental meeting,
to say farewell, between Adrienne and
him.
She consents. That night the English
man Is Informed of an attempt being
made to carry off Signorina 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
ladles.
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 Adrienne often. The
Englishman, sitting In the hotel, finds
a dagger at his feet. Looking up ,he
sees the Sicilian, and Bcents 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 slaps him consents. The two
men face each other ready to fight to
the death.
Margharita 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 jail he is again at his hotel,
an old, broken man with only memories
left to him.
At his hotel the proprietor, worried
about him, advertises for his friends
and Leonardo is first visited by the wo
man he had loved, whom he shoos out
of his sight. Then there comes to him
the daughter of his sister, whom he
greets in great surprise. He learns that
His sister is dead.
NOW 00 ON WITH THE BTOBT
He sighed, and his tearless eyes
looked thoughtfully Into the fire.
Memories of other days were rising
up and passing before him In swift
procession. He saw himself and
her, orphan brother and sister, wan
dering hand In hand over their
beautiful island home, with the sea
wind blowing in their faces, and the
spirit of the mountains which tow
ered around them entering into
their hearts. Dear to them had
been that home, dear that close and
precious companionship. They had
talked of the life which lay before
them rose-colored and joyous,
pregnant with glorious opportun
ities and possibilities. For their Is
land and the larger continent close
at hand were convulsed at that time
in certain patriotic efforts, the his
tory of which has been written into
the history of Europe, and no one
desired more ardently to bear a
hand In the struggle than young
Leonardo dl Marloni. Large heart
ed, romantic, and with an imagina
tion easily tired, he was from the
first a dreamer, and Margharita
had ever been ready to share his
dreams. The blood of kings was in
their veins, to lead him on to great
things; and she, Margharita, his
sister, his beloved sister, should be
the mistress of his destinies. Thus
they had talked, thus they had
dreamed, and now from the other
side of the gulf he looked backward
and saw In his own life, in the place
of those great deeds which he had
hoped to accomplish, one black, mis
erable chasm, and in hers, rorget
fulness of her high descent for
she had married this English mer
chant's son and the grave. Ah! It
was sad, very sad!
"Child!" he cried, "have you ever
heard the story of my seizure and
imprisonment? No, you have not.
You shall hear it. You shall judge
between me and them. Listen!
When I was a young man, Italy
seemed trembling on the verge of a
revolution. The history of It all
you know. You know that the coun
try was honeycombed with secret
societies, more or less dangerous.
To one of these I belonged. We
called our order the 'Order of the
White Hyacinth.' We were all
voung, ardent and Impetuous, and
we Imagined ourselves the apostles
of the coming liberation. Yet we
never advocated bloodshed; we
never really transgressed the law.
We gave lectures, we published
p&mphlcts. We were a set of boy
dreamers with wild theories com
munists, most of us. But there was
not one who would not have died to
save our country the misery of civil
war not one, not one! Even wo
men wore our flower, and were ad
mitted to our Order. We pledged
ourselves that our alms were blood
less. No society that ever existed
was more harmless than ours. I
say It! I swear It! Bear me wit
ness, oh, my God, If what I say be
not true!"
He was a strong man again. The
apathy was gone; his reason was
saved. He stood before this dark,
tall girl, who, with clasped hands,
was drinking in every word, and he
spoke with all the swelling dignity
of one who has suffered unjustly.
"By some means or other our
society fell under the suspicion of
the government. The edict went
forth that we should be broken up.
We heard the mandate with Indig
nation. We were young and hot
blooded, and we were conscious
that we had done no harm that we
were Innocent of the things ascribed
to us. We swore that wo would
carry on our society, but In secret.
Before then, everything had been
open; we had had a recognized
meeting place, the public had at
tended our lectures, ladles had worn
the white hyacinth openly at recep
tions and balls. Now, all was
changed. We met in secret and un
der a ban. Still our aim was harm
less. One clause alone was added
to our rules of a different character,
and we all subscribed to 'Ven
geance upon traitors!' We swore
It solemnly one to the other 'Ven
geance upon traitors!' "
"Ah! if I had lived In those days
I would have worn your flower at
the court of the king," she cried,
"As time went on, and things
grew still more unsettled In the
country, a species of inquisition was
established. The eyes of the law
were everywhere. They fell upon
us. One night ten of us were ar
rested as we left our meeting place.
We were all noble, and the families
of my companions were powerful.
I was looked upon as the ringlead
er; and upon me fell the most se
vere sentence. I was banished from
Italian soil for ten years, with the
solemn warning that death would
be my lot If I ventured to return."
"It was atrocious!"
He held up his hand.
"Margharita, in those days I lov
ed. Her name was Adrienne. She,
too, was an orphan, and although
she was of noble birth, she was
poor, as we Marionis were poor al
so. She had a great gift; she was a
singer; and, sooner than be depend
ent upon her relatives, she had sung
at concerts and operas, until all Eu
rope knew of her fame. When I
was exiled I was given seven days
In which to make my adieux. I
went to her, and declared my love.
She did not absolutely reject me,
nor did she accept me. She asked
for time for consideration. I could
give her none! I begged her to
leave the country with me. Alas!
she would not! Perhaps I was too
passionate, too precipitate! It may
have been so! I cannot say. I went
away alone and left her. I plunged
into gay life at Paris; I dwelt
among the lonliest mountains of
Switzerland; I endured the dullness
of this cold gray London, and the
dissipation of Vienna. It was all in
vain! One by one they palled upon
me. No manner of life, no change
of scene, could cure me of my love.
I fell 111, and I knew that my heart
was breaking. You and I, Marghar
ita, come of a race whose love and
hatred are eternal!"
She crept into his arms; and he
went on, holding her there.
"Back I came at the peril of my
life; content to die, if it were only
at her feet. I found her cold and
changed; blaming me even for my
rashness, desiring even my absence.
Not a word of pity to sweeten those
weary days of exile; not a word of
hope to repay me for all that I had
risked to see her again. Soon I
knew the reason another love had
stolen away her heart. There was
an Englishman visiting her daily at
Palermo; and she told me calmly
one day that she loved him, and In
tended to become his wife. She for
got my long years of devoted ser
vice; she forgot her own unspoken
yet understood, promise; she forgot
all that I had suffered for her; she
forgot that her words must sound to
me as the death warrant of all joy
and happiness in this world. And
she forgot, too, that I was a Mar
loni! Was I wrong, I wonder, Mar
gharita, that I quarreled with him!
You are a child, and yet my in
stinct tells me that you have a wo
man's judgment. Tell me, should
I have stepped aside, and let him
win her, without a blow?"
"You would have been a coward if
you had!" she cried. "You fought
him! Tell me that you fought him "
"Margharita, you are a true
daughter of your country!" the old
man cried. "You are a Marion! !
Listen I insulted him He declined
to fight! I struck him across the
face in a public restaurant, and
forced him to accept my challenge.
The thing was arranged. We stood
face to face on the sand, sword in
hand. The word had been given!
His life was at my mercy; but mind,
Margharita, I had no thought of
taking it without giving him a fair
chance. I intended to wait until my
sword was at his throat, and then
I would have said to him, 'Give up
the woman whom I have loved all
my life, and go unhurt!' He him
self should have chosen. Was not
that fair?"
"Fair! It was generous! Go on!
Go on!"
"The word had been given; our
swords were crossed. And at that
moment, she, Adrienne, the woman
whom I loved, stood before us. With
her were Italian police come to ar
rest me There was one letter alone
of mine, written In a hasty moment,
which could have been used in evi
dence against me at my former
trial, and which would have secured
for me a harsher sentence. That
letter had fallen Into her hands;
and she had given It over to my bit
ter enemy, the chief of the Italian
police. I was betrayed, betrayed by
the woman whom I had braved all
dangers to see! It was ahe who had
brought them! she who - without re
morse of hesitation calmly hand
ed me over to twenty-five years'
captivity in a prison cell!"
Margharita freed herself from his
arms. She was very pale, and her
limbs were shaking. But what a
Are in those dark, cruel eyes.
"Go on! Go on!" she cried. "Let
me hear the rest"
"Then, as I stood there, Marghar
ita, love shriveled up, and hate
reigned in its place. The memory
of the oath of our Order flashed in
to my mind. A curtain seemed
raised before my eyes. I saw the
long narrow room of our meeting
place. I saw the dark, faithful faces
of my comrades. I heard their firm
voices 'Vengeance upon traitors,
vengeance upon traitors!' She, too,
this woman who had betrayed me,
had worn our flower upon her bo
som and in her hair! She had come
under the ban of that oath. Mar
gharita, I threw my sword into the
sea, and I raised my clasped hands
to the sky; and I swore that, were
it the last day of my life, the day of
my release should see me avenged.
Let them hide in the uttermost cor
ners of the earth, I cried, that false
woman and her English lover, still I
would find them out, and they
should taste of my vengeance! To
my trial I went, with that oath writ
ten In my heart, I carried it with
me into my prison cell, and day by
day and year by year I repeated it
to myself. It kept me alive; the de
sire of it grew into my being. Even
now it burns in my heart!
"During my captivity I was al
lowed to see my lawyer, and I made
over by deed so much, to be paid
every year to the funds of our Or
der at the London Branch, for our
headquarters had been moved there
after my first arrest. Day by day,
I dreamed of the time when I
should stand, a martyr in their
cause, before my old comrades, and
Heppner
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demand of them the vengeance
which was my due. I imagined
them, one by one, grasping my
hand, full of deep, silent sympathy
with my long sufferings. I heard
the oath which we had sworn
'Vengeance upon traitors, ven
geance upon traitors!' It was the
music which kept me alive, the hope
which nourished my life!"
The dark eyes glowed upon him
like stars, and her voice trembled
with eagerness.
"You have been to them? You
will be avenged! Tell me that it is
so?"
A little choking sob escaped from
him. The numbness was passing
away from his heart and senses.
His sorrows were becoming human,
and demanding human expression.
"Alas, Margharita, alas!" he cried,
with droopnig head, "the bitterest
disappointment of my life came up
on me all unawares. While I have
lain rotting in prison history has
turned over many pages. The age
for secret societies has gone by. The
'Order of the White Hyacinth' is no
more worse than that, its very
name has been dragged through the
dust One by one the old members
fell away; its sacred aims were for
gotten. The story of its downward
path will never be written. A few
coarse, ignorant men meet in a pot
house, night by night, to spend the
money I sent in beer and foul tobac
co. That is the end of the 'Order
of the White Hyacinth!' "
(Continuer next week.)
cial devotion in the Heppner church
at 7:30 p. m. Next Sunday evening
the pastor will preach upon "May
any one however holy or learned
establish a Christian Church?" On
each day of the week at 7:45 there
will be mass In the church at 7:45.
The pastor advises all to profit
by the time of Lent so that they
may be the better prepared to cele
brate the triumphant resurrection
of Christ from the dead on Easter
Sunday.
Straw for Sale Lexington, 5F32.
Pete Prophet and family will
shortly move on to the George Sper
ry place just south of town, where
Mr. Prophet expects to go into the
business of raising turkeys and oth
er poultry quite extensively. This
place has been occupied during the
past year or two by Glen Hayes.
Mr. and Mrs. J. B. Adams arrived
at Heppner on Saturday from Port
land where they have been residing
during the winter months. They
were on their way home at Hard-man.
ST. PATRICK'S CHURCH.
Rev. Thomas J. Brady, Pastor.
Next Sunday will be the fourth
Sunday of Lent, with mass in Hepp
ner church at 8:30, and a second
mass in lone at 10:30. On the fourth
Sunday of March the pastor will go
to Boardman instead of on the
third as is usual, and he will have
mass at 7:45 in Root's hall. The
third Sunday will be the feast of
St. Patrick who is the patron of
the church and on that day there
will be mass in the church at 9
o'clock instead of at 8:30. There
will be no second mass anywhere
on that Sunday.
On Wednesday, Friday and Sat
urday evenings there will be spe-
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with glowing cheeks.
He pressed her hand In silence,
and continued:
Sack
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, .