THE FACE OF HIS DREAMS

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Volume 58, Issue 169, 19 August 1929, Page 11

THE FACE OF HIS DREAMS

By LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE

Powerful Story of Love, Crime and Mystery I

2 Anthor of "The Lone Wolf," "False Faces," "The Brass Bowl," eto I

CHA1PTJCR XVIII (Continued ) (\XE'S EAI-J& KXEW no n.-pii. 'y i'rom the slurriiig sibilamv o. 'tio Neapolitan vernacular, twan^nu aud buzging of stringed instrumenirb av.nffle of bare feet and ciatter of sboes vpon tho stones, everlasting strains of unseemly songs. Panting and stumbling, Erancesca tiad begun aluiost to believe that tliis v^eird flight would never know an end, whcn her guide halted before a door at tho end of a blind alley, kn?uckled it loudly, and sang in a full baritone a staro of popular song. There was a wait. He eyed Fran cesca witli a srnile of contempt. ''Blown, signorP A brave picciott vou'll makej" She said nothing to this, and he. held a grinning silence until the door swung noiselessly open, admitting them to a long, arched pa.ssageway. -pen at ;ts far end, paved u'itli stone. This led-them into the dark, still conrtard of a venerable palazzo. Witli a gign bidding tho girl to wait, her guide lost himself i'n the tliick darkness of ihe gallery that ran round the four sides of the court. * * * ..ilE WAS GONE so long that she be- . . . gan to be uneasy ; but at lengtb ,he: re'appeared in one of the arclies of dle gallery, beckoning ivitli a jerk of his head. She followed, to be iveleona&d by a door that opened of a sudoen, lettino; out a ivarm flood of light. Biinking, she tound herself in a room wide and deep, and little less bare ihan the cell of an anchorite. There Ai'as no rug on the tessellated floor neitlier pictures nor draperies broke the monotony of whitewa^hed walls; for all furniture a vast old bed plainly dressed, a tahle alniost os iarge, on which vere a lanip, writing materials. and many books, a washstand, a bookcase, tivo common chairs, and a tln'rd on wbeels. 1 The door closed behind Francesca; slie vra's albfie \yith the tenant- of the ivheeled chair. * « k ITE WAS QUITE STIRLESS, ivith hands like bleached clau_s of a r.ird folded in fcisTap: an old, old man, his physical insignificance of younger \ears to-day patlietically wasted and ccippled by disease ; dressed in a lieavy Avoollen goivn, witli a wliite neckerehief kuotted round his throat, a plain rug over his knees. Perhaps because oi Uie extreme emaciation of his body, his head seemed ahnornially large, hut it was fi.nel.y- modelled, as were the features oi'er which the skin was taut and colourless with that utter absence of colour which one associates witli tliings ihat have never known sunlight. Only ihe eyebrows were jet black and the pyes heneath them black and of extraorclinary fire and intelligence. The unwinking stare of those uncanny eyes seemed to bore Francesca through. .and through. She felt siicldenly a I ittle faint and giddy with i'right.- How should she hope to de-. ■ceive this one; this creatuve of evil who-, despite -L,)s h'opeless decrcpitticle. bad for -fiearlv .half "a; celitury by sbeer force of mincl alone'held command of the Societv of Camorra and directed ts destinv with an inflexible will and Mifailing cunning? CHAPTER XIX. C^RANCESCA RETAINED enough presence of mind to otfer the inuispensable saiute of profound veneration ; and the short-Jived respite of t'nat moment when her head was bowed vnd the speii of those relentlessly sceptical eyes broken, enabled the girl to reanimate her sinking heart with the reininder that she stood now at a f.ass of rnortal significance, where flawless address and audacity alone could save her. So, her act of homage punctiliously lendered, she lifted her head liigh to look down boldlv upon that shape of strange immohility in the whceled cha'r. Fpr scveral seconds (they seemed as rmnv long-drawn imnutes) nothing re- ... narded her, not- so niuch as the treninling of an eyelasli modified the ini* passivity of the man in the chair. Only ihe sardonic intejligence. that inforxncd his eyes flawed the illusion of a bgure fashioned-of wax. At length, however, as if' despairing of the attempt to wear down her patieiice, that Lead of a diabolieal patriarch in its frame of snowy Iiair was alniost impercgptibly inclined, lieavy •eyelids instantaneously curtained those Lliscoucerting eyes, a voice as coldlv metallic as the sound of a steel bell issued from those cruel and pallid lips. ' "Come nearer." f jjlHE GIRL COMPLIED without vis■f: ible Jiesitation, and when she s'.ood before tbe chair heard anotber vord — "Kneel!" and dropped upon a knee. Tben a hand like a talon was i.lted and proffered. She took it upon ihe tips of her fingers and pressed her lins to its bacii. An invincible shiver t ippled down .her spine, for it was as "il the kissed sometbing less than living fjesb, sometbing ic.y with the grave's c-ternal cold. "Arise 1" She got up. The man in the chair lifted his gaze to her face, but finding the angle of vision diffieult reinired. her to stand hack with a flirt of the hand iu which there was a hint of temper. Completely docile,- she retreated a few paces, till anotlier sign oade her pause. "Your name?" "Erancesco Barocco," * M« * fflHE WRAITH OF A mordnnt smile * writhed the thin and bloodless hps, and the girl felt herself transfixed ky a pang of yure fear. Did he already suspect ? "Barocco: i seem to know that name." "Who of Naples does not?" The brillianb eyes cJouded a.s if in I effort of memory, "There were two j irothers. I believe.- If I affl not in crror, thev i-migrated* to America, j many years ago." "Mv father and uncle." ! "Yes?" A slight lift of the lieavy ' black eyebro-ivs lent this a supercilious •• ccr>nt. Which was ivhich?" "Mv father' name was Aniello, mv ncle's "r rememher, "Ciborio. A bold soul." i.oo bold at times, not alwnys prudent. not nlwnv? discreet. And tbese o]d triends — -T migbt almost call tliem niy brO'tbers — thev are" well,. I trust, and irosnerous ?" "Thev are dead, si masto." "T)ead !" "Tliey died at the same time nonths ago." ; |HIE OLD HEAD NODDEI) tbougl.t- ^ fully "It would bave been like that with them. As my memory serves, they were twins."

Like mv brother and myself." ' You have a brother, then?" One. His nanie is Angelo." Your father had no othcr cliil- > t- 1 1 r" "Only AngeJo and me, si masto?" "But your uncle — "3Jy uncle uever married." "Ah — yes }es." The man in the chair was watcliing her intentlv, aiid ,-b,e was again conscious of the remote .-uggestion of nis derisive smile. "And i your brother much like you, since vou are twins'-'" "Very," she contrived to reply, feel;ng as if her knees were water. •'And do I understand that you have oome from America to see me?" "Yes, si masto?" "It is a long journey . . - Why?" France-ca replied obliquely: "Some Lune before his death mv father told me of n fri'end whom he had had in \apies. a dear frientl to whom he had been foituriate enough to do a groat •Tvice." * * ♦ HE HAD A NAME, I presume, this famous triendP" "Si masto. his first name was the same as my fatjier's. For that renson they always called each other brother. Tbe name was Aniello Ansiello." "I remember," said the old man, v.olding"I knew that one, too." "He rose to a high place, si masto, a very high place; he became -Supremc Master >f the Honpurable Spc-iety of Oamorra." "But then, as I recall, he died." "He disappeared." Francesca corlccted gravelv. "He had made himself so powerful that the Italian Government itself came to fear him. He disappeared, and another too'k _ his place as Supreme Master.^ But. it is said he did not die, and his successors ivere mere marionettes. that moved only when An'ella Ansiello manipulated the strings." "A fanciful story, Francesca Barocco." "Perhaps, si masto." "But if you seek this Aniello Ansiello, youy father 's friend, I regret 1 i an he of no serviee to you." * * * 1AM NOT SO SURE," Francesca contended coolly. "There was a certain ring . ." The folded hands upon the rug stirred and unclosecl ; in the palm of one lay an old-fashioned signet ring," cn onyx intaglo in a'massy setting of gold, exquisitely wrought. "That ring," said Francesca. "Whafc of it?" "But for it I should not be here lidking to you. si masto. I sent it to you by another liand with my petilion for this interview. The ring was my fatlier's. Aniello Ansiello gave it ! o him in earnest of his gratitude and his promise to serve him in turn to the full of his power if ever my father vere in need of assistance or protection 'either . your or your children,' ■ were his words as my father fepeated . .them to me, I-have come from ■America to ask the redeinption of'tbat promise."- : ' ■ •- y' • "But since Aniello' Ansiello "is -tio more,--%hv"do; you;apply to-hle?" ■ ■ (To be Continued.)-