The Ladies' Magazine.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXV, Issue 2051, 30 November 1907, Page 1 (Supplement)

The Ladies' Magazine.

THE NINTH WAVE. A largo part of tlio floating population of tlio queen of watering-places liatl gathered together on tiho pier to on joy the rare treat of hot sunshine, which flooded both sea and slioro in a golden hath. The word ‘‘floating” exactly described the condition of ouo insignificant unit among tlio thousands that weekly poured into tlio town. For four years Hazol Thorne had drifted alone from town to town, as mucth at the mercy of the waves and currents ns the tiniest strand of seaweed which the sea was at that moment washing against the timbers of the pier. In appearance the girl had nothing in Common with the guy crowd that sauntered to and fro .over the hot planks in an endless procession, each one well fed, well dressed, and well satisfied. She was not well fed, for her lunoli luul consisted of a stale bun and a glass of blue milk. She ivas not. well dressed, for half the color had been washed out of her pink cotton frock. Ami she was not well satisfied, for she was superlatively unhappy. She turned her back to the muslin and chiffon butterflies that floated by to the strains of flie “Merry ’Widow” Waltz, and, leaning over the rail of the pier, she watched the foam of the broken waves streak the clear green of the water. A cool breeze parted the heavy hrov. ii hair that shaded her face,-and she pushed back the untidy strands impatiently with her brown hand, tlio flexible ‘ fingers of which proclaimed it the hand of a musician. Hazel could not remember the time when idle did not play. Sheiliadlea rued her notes before she knew her letters. She had practised six hours a day, bought fresh music with her pocket money, and denied herself luxuries to purchase a concert ticket. And the end of it all was she had eked out a scanty livelihood for seven year.

by teaching music. But the girl’s thoughts refused to dwell on tlio shipwreck of her hopes She was only twenty-four, and she felt that to-day she was taking the first step towards her future. For 1 few 6hort hours she would meet her hero, Carl Capel, the great violinist.

During the great August exodus of parents and pupils from London. Hazol had drifted away among the stream in quest of holiday employment-. When she obtained the post' of accompanist at tlio pier pavilion of the town whei'e she had found herself stranded, she had considered it a pleasant change from the murky city.

But more was to come. As large posters on the pier announced, ■ charity performance in aid of the lifeboat society was to take place in t-lie pavilion that night. The efforts oi the local pierrots and of the excellent band were to be supplemented by the services of the talented aristocrats of the neighborhood.

Lady Gwendolen Dixon, the patron saint of the town, whose fortune had raised it from a fishing village to s popular resort, neither sang nor played. But she did something better, for at her invitation Carl Capel had been induced to contribute a violin solo, in the sacred cause of charity.

Hazel felt half wild with delight when she heard of this item. Cape.* was the girl’s hero. Picture postcards 'had made her familiar with Ids features, and twice—from a very respectful distance —she had heard him ■play. But that afternoon she was to have the privilege of playing liis accompaniment.

There was an extra wash of rotecolor on her glasses. After the rehearsal she meant to speak to the >great man —to remind him that her father, Cli\*e Thorne, had been his chief friend in their student days, and to ask his opinion and advice on her talent. For, in spite of the seven years of drudgery, she was confident that she only awaited her chance to 'prove herself worthy of a place on the concert stage. The (hands of the pavilion clock crept round to 2.40, and Hazel bad to banish day-dreams. Shortly afterwards she was seated ini the hot room, clad in a short white calico dress, rdier skirt ornamented with Black pompons, and her pale cheeks with a daub of rouge, while sho soothed the impatience of tilie'audience by the stirring strains of the Sousa march. That afternoon seemed endless to tho girl- In spite of the heat, the house was enthusiastic, and the perspiring pierrots and the tired pianist had to cope with the demand for encores. It was with a particularly deep feeling of loyalty that Hazel finished tho performance by playing the National Anthem. Then she slipped into the little dressing-room to divest herself of her paint and pierrot costume. !3ho was barely ready', when tho manager tapped at tho door. “Look slippy, miss!” he urged erossly. “They are waiting for you to try over songs!” She fastened the last hook with trembling fingers, and ran out oil to the platform. As her eyes scanned the scattered groups of people their lids fell to disappointment. Capel was nob there. For a couple of hours sho toiled at the piano. Her head ached from heat and fatigue, and her fingers fc.fc as though they could hardly cope with ■tho strain. Everyone of the aristocratic amateurs informed her as to the particular way in which tlieir accompaniment was to be played till she grew distracted with the constant i . instructions and repetitions. “ The last song had been rehearsed, and the girl approached the manager. “Where is Mr. CapiS?” she asked. " “Not here—that’s a fact 1” snapped back the man. “Her ladyship tells me lie’s lost liis ir&in. . . “But —but the rehearsal?” stammered Hazel. “You’ll have to do without it,

that’s all!” Hazel’s face fell as sho saw her hopes dashed to tho ground. “But it’s most unfair!” she cried. “How can I ho expected to do well without even trying the piece over with him? He wouldn’t treat his own aconipanist in this way!” “Don’t lose your temper. Miss Thornef” advised the manager, who was conscious that his own was ravaged by the trials of the afternoon. '“That won’t help you. I engaged you as a competent pianist. If you’re that, you’ll worry through all right, jf y o u’ro not, then I have no use for you.”

Hazel turned away, sick at heart. Sho walked back to her tea, with eyes that were blind to the glories of sea and sky. 'lllio evening loomed before her, no longer in tlio fight of a triumph, but of an ordeal. Before eight o’clock struck tlio pavilion was packed to suffocation with mi expectant nudionco. Although they were pleased with ovory itom on tlio programme, no one jiaid any nolico to the pretty xiianist, wliolooked like a white rosobud in her muslin dress, and who worked so hard tlio whole ovening.

During tlio interval, while Hazel was hurriedly eating a sandwich in the artistes’ room, the manager came forward, accompanied by a stranger. The girl recognised the familiar face with a sudden thump at her heart. It was Capel.

“This is Miss Thorne,” announced the manager. Capel scarcely vouchsafed her a glance. Although habitually an amiable mail, his temper had boon considerably ruffled by tlio events of tlio day, and his nerves, therefore, wero not quite under control. To begin with, he had consented to contribute a solo, sorely against his will, for ho had found that titled ladies wero only too eager to prey oil his talent. Furthermore. through her ladyship’s blunder, he had missed the through train, and had suffered untold misery at the hands of the slow locals. Lastly, ho had been obliged to cut Ids dinner.

“You can play all right, I suppose?” he queried. “I am especially particular, as I dare say you knew.’* Hazel nodded. As she stepped on to the platform and took her place at the piano she noticed that her hands felt cold, and trembling, while her head swam. For the first time in her life she was utterly and hopelessly nervous.

It was a horrible sensation. The black notes of her music were a hopeless blur, as, with a wretched premonition of coming disaster, sho struck a few uncertain (Lords. At every line her nervousness increased, and Capel, turning his head, shot all indignant glance at his pianist.

It put the finishing touch to Hazel'-, fright. Sho lost her place, then scrambled forward, to find liersolf a bar behind tlio violinist. He. simply played a few chords, and abruptly finished. Tlio clamors of the disappointed audienco and the appeals of the manager had not tlio slightest effect on his decision.

“I simply refuse to murder a iiiece under such conditions F’ he said. “You undertook to provide mo with a competent accompanist, and not an inexperienced bungler!” Hazel did not reply. Tho words were almost more than she could bear. She -realised that she- had received the long-desired criticism from Carl Capel. It cut deeper than tho knowledge that in all probability the pier management would no longer require her services further. ■She was startled out of her 'toverie by a cry that rang through the building: “Fire! Fire!”

A.sudden flame slio-t out from the -wings, and a thick cloud of ac-riil smoke belched into the air. Instantly tho whole building was a scene of the wildest confusion. The quiet audience was turned, as if by magic, intoi~a struggling, crying mass of humanity. -There was a hurried stampede among the artistes, who also caught the infection c-f fear. The curtain was rung down, and the manager strove to assure the terrified crowd that there was no cause for alarm. But his words were lost in the clamour, and he appeared only as a wildly gesticulating puppet. Hazel alone ivas unmoved. Tin? keenness of her misery completely deadened all sense of fear. For a minute she watched the scene in amazement. Tlie-n she stole to the piano and began to play the piece she had so mangled.

“My farewell performance,” she tlio light sadly. There was no hesitation now in the notes, that swelled louder and louder, as Hazel forgot her trouble in the music. A shower of sparks fell on her hair, but she heeded them not, foi she li-ad just realised that the sweet, notes of a violin were woven into the melody. She was unconscious of the gradations by which the noise in the building slowly died away to breathless appreciation. When the final chords wore played the storm of applause broke out. Half was . for the performance, but tho other ItaJ-f was for Hazel. She was the heroine of the hour, for ’sho had saved tho panic. As she tottered from .the platform Capel grasped her hand. “My very heartiest congratulations!” lie said warmly. “I have at'last found tho perfect accompanist 1 W.e must often play that piece toge-tllier—you and I!” Hazel ■ was too moved to oven smile as she realised the meaning of liis words. -Buffeted and torn by tho waves of fortune, tlie ninth wave, tlia-t had threatened to engulf her, had washed hex safely ashore.

■ CLUIG’S LAST APPEARANCE. Tlio quivering, dust-ladeai atmosphere, a hubbub of conversation, reckless hoys and excited girls dashing through the ranks of sweltering, limp-collared adults, tho • bawling i-oiccs of vendors, a litter of straw covering tlio ground, and tho smell of animals- —tall this announced tho great American circus. The voice of a “barker” was heralding the initial performance. “Ladies an’ gen’elmen, the opening perfo-miMice of the aftohnoou will be tiho stall act of Profess-ah Chug. iHe will make Hie marvellous and astounding death-leap' from tlio platfo’m erected one hundred feet in mid aili!” The crush of a bund drowned the closing words of the speaker. Tho crowd scrambled excitedly toward a ladder which shot upward to a dizzy height. At its foot a mnn w'as standing—“ Professor” Cluig. Ho was dresed in the costume of nil acrobat, his bare muscular arms and shoulders bronzed by exposure to the sun. He and his wife were tumblers. To swell their small weekly stipend to a respectable figure, once each afternoon lie ascended the tall ladder and made the “death-leap” to the net sp read below. This day closed the contract, and Olnig was glad it was over. There was a moment of gripping horror, between the leaving of the la. Jer and tlio rebound from the net, to which he could not grow a ecus corned. I’t- had paid, 'Oilrig told -rimself, but he was glad that to-mor-row he and Annette would be free. Already they had picked out a smith farm which they could buy. It had a spring of sparkling water, an ap-ple-tree growing by the door of the cottage, luul a row of broad-.caved Oiiitalpas on either side of the gate. 'The crowd was getting impatient. It was circling about, Hunt--ring and jostling, like some many-e.vcvl monster. Brown-faced conn try youths ill hopelessly high colliers, red ties, and lavender gloves;-girls in dresses cut uinvontedly low, whose necks showed fiery sunburns; smart drygoods clerks and grocers’ boys wi h flour still o-n their clothing—it va.is tho same cro-wd which Cluig had seen a hundred times in a dozen different States. The band blared, the crowd cheered.- 'Nimbly Gl-uig rjiii up the lnl- - -Half-way up he stopped for breath, at the end of the four guyropes that held the ladder in r-os.-tion. -He looked up at tho 'rail platform from which he wUs tojuinp, '.then dawn at the expectant taces. A baby began to cry, and its mother tossed it in her arms, saying, “See! See the man!” At the top, he sat down to compose. himself before leaping,’ TiTie circus hands were busy stretching and testing the net. Cluig turned .toward the door o-f Iris tent and raw the flutter of Annette's red skirt She blew him a kiss .and disappeared. Annette never watched him make the leap. Always, when ho came running in after the act, >he started up, round-eyed and with parted lips, from the same corner of the tent. To-day Cluig waited, with the dread of the leap stroifger (in him than he had ever felt if. The band played noisily, ‘4CS if in protest against the insufferable liont. An impatient murmur came from below. “Are you .ready, professah?” This was the signal from his prompter that all was in readiness below. Craig arose slowly and stepped to the edge of the wicker platform. .Ho looked at his tent, but Annette had disappeared. “The last jump,” he said, nerving himself. “To-morrow we are free!”

The net spread to receive Orim looked far -down and small—criminally small, considering the forfeit he would pay for a miscalculation. A miniature whirl-wind springing lip suddenly filled the air with a cloud of dust and straw. Oluig waited for it to pass, and wa-tolied the peopie below him. Tho dust-storm was -followed by a stiff breeze, which started a flapping of tents ancl cordage and a creaking of stays. At one side of tlie circus, in a small tent,, t-hero arose star-bled exclamations and a cry of “Fire!” A moment later the tent was ablaze and a sheet of flame nvus running through an adjoining row of booths. The people stampeded toward -the gates ill wiki co-nfusion. The dry straw on the ground, acting like a train of gunpowder? led tho fire swiftly from booth to : tent. Cluig turned to. retreat, and stopped, frozen with horror. Flames were running .along one of the .guyropes that supported theladdcr. ihe rope parted, and with a lurch th-a-t brought . the heart into the throat of the mill! aloft tho ladder sagged to. a new position. 01-uig .began to descend, but with his feet on t-lie first round ho could feellyffhe ladder swaying backward. Concluding that the shifting -of his weight was tipping it, he darted back to tlie extreme edge of the platform. ■

A cloud of smoko now hid everything below from sight. Bedlam -had broken loose—« medley of elephant -t r u nip c ti 11 gs and of roars and howls from a score of other animals. Cluig crouched anxious-ly - on .tilie -frame, listening to tlie discordant chorus and' trying to peer th-fo-ugh -the smoke. Whore was Annette? Were the other guy-ropes burning? A shifting of the w-iml blew the smoke into another quarter, and objects below came into view. -Dii-mly at first, then more distinctly, Cluig saw that the space which a few minutes before had been t-hro-nged with people was now vacant, save for a solitary figure—a woman, whose red shirt, whirled about as she beat and stumped at the flames. “Annette!” cried Cluig. She could not hear him, but a anomemt later she glanced up and wived he-r hand. Then the flames reached the second guv-rope, and Annette leaped toward it and ran her hands through the living blaze in her efforts to extinguish it. The eager tongues on the ground, leaping at her red skirt, finally seized it, and she had to stop to drive them back. This momentary delay gave the fire time to run up the rope beyond her reach; and with the parting of the second guv the ladder began to swing in the wind. Cluig clutched at the frame, as if this could save him, liis star.chy face

staring down at Annotto. Sho looked at him with an agony greater than his own, tiion darted under the ladder and braced with all her eeblo strength a gainst tlio iron frame which was slowly tipping backward. Her l-.uCband shouted a warning, but it was cither unheard or unheeded. Fo.r an age-long minute tho ladder stood, apparently on a balance. Cluig had closed his eyco and was trying to pray, but heart vuul brain wero paralyzed by th« suspense. Only a puff of wind was lacking to carry him over, hut this puff did not come, and tho ladder slowly inclined forward again. 01 Uiig brushed the beads, of sweat from his brow; Annette sprang to action. The not had been partly 'burned, but not beyond repair. With nimble fingers sho tied up the loose ends and drew the oords across tlio frame. .She worked feverishly, tying, stretching, replacing. The confusion about her was forgotten; the cries of the animals, the shouts of the people, were unheeded. A crazed elephant' dashed toward her, followed by three excited attendants. She did not loop up, though she was directly in tho animal's path. When within a. few feet” of her the elephant veered to one side, and went off, followed by its keepers. Then a fresh outbreak of the fire in «. new quarter sent up a cloud of smoke that completely enveloped her. . When all was done that could -*> done, Annette waited for the air to clear. Twice it seemed as if the perpendicular ladder was going over, and with all her strength she braced against it. She could feel it Havering in tlio wind. Again the smoke grew thinner. Cluig could see Annette standing bClow, ad tho net, dimly outlined. He saw her wave her hand, and her ringing cry came to him abovo the roar: “Al'l ready! Jump!”

The ladder was tottering like a great pine to its fall. For an instant Cluig stood erect, measuring tlio distance, his eyes on the centre of the net. Annette stood like a statue in tQio smoke-wreaths, with glaring eyes fixed on her husband. She saw tho ladder swing back as be leaped, then fear blinded her. She neither saw nor .heard while the man and tho ladder fell; and when her husband, leaping from the net caught her in Iris arms, the whirling blackness that ensued seemed but a natural sequence to the spCll that held her. The- next day Cluig helped a libj'.e woman aboard an east-bound train. Her fnce was a marvel of -patchwork, done in court-piaster, and her hands were bundled in whitebandages. They were hound for the ii[.tie farm wi till its spring of sparkling water and the apple-tree beside the -door. The business had paid—b it Cluig had made his last appearance