"MIN." .

Free Lance, Volume III, Issue 108, 26 July 1902, Page 17

"MIN." .

(By A. IMoarilanda.)

A BABEL of tongues talking :n many languages, filled the Atrium scraps of English society talk, the use and fall of shaies, and hints ot a Royal bethrothal, oddly mixed togethei. A w oman, famous throughout tho world for her beauty and her jewels came out from the w liirl of the Salles dcs Jeux, and flung herself down on an ottoman, talking fitfully to a man who leant against a wide pdlar befoie her. At the other end of the couch lay a child, her pure English colouring mak ing hei an odd contrast to the dark, spaikhng beauty near her. The child's arms weie clasped above her head, halfveiled in her curling hair , the mite was tast asleep, heedless of the beauty'--laughtei. unconscious of the mysterious tiagic life of the Casino seething arounc 1 her. 'Look" — Sir John Bruce nodded to waids the couch near the door — "a pretty picture." Ladj Bruce, a graceful woman in trailing black lobes, started as her eyes fell on the sleeping child , her face softened as she stood looking down on tb<' little one's sleep-flushed cheeks , he> whole '.oul was in her eyes. So. in that attitude, her little daughter had lain m all the tranquihty of her father's horne — now, she was dead. Whom did this mite belong to, that she should be left to fall asleep, amid the chat term? cosmopolitan throng of Monte Carlo 2 Moved by a sudden impulse, she stooped and kissed the closed eyelids, but so softiv that the child did not stir, then followed by her husband and his son, made her way into the brilliant Salles dcs Jeux. More than one glanced with interest at the distinguished, beautiful woman, as she passed in her trailing black dress and flashing jewels, greeting fiiends and bowing to acquaintances. 'What has changed Lady Bruce?" one or two asked. ' She has never got over the terrible death of her little daughter," a girl answered softiv, as she returned Lad^ Binee's bow. A few mornings later the little English party were together on the terrace 'Twelve o'clock," said Sir John, f lancing at his watch "the rooms wil' c open . I shall go in for a flutter. Will you come, Isabel?" His' wife shook her head. "I prefei this scene to the disillusionment thatawaits one in the Casino on a sunny bright morning. Ugh' That yellow glow that pervades the halls — the grasp ino- thin hands of those players who are staking their souls for five-franc pieces ' No, I shall not enter the, Casino again, save at night. Then, I grant you. th° glitter and excitement are stirring. Bu+ now, look at that sparkling blue sea. that weird old rock, and that wonderful vista of the Italian range l T will stay here and enioy it, and the scent of those oleanders. "And amuse yourself with that little fairy you have made friends with," said a younger edition of Sir John "I met hei once, skipping down the mountains, chattering to am Italian donkey woman with an amazing flow of language." 'HVie she comes," said Sir John 'I wonder why all the charming children have mothers or fathers already 9" said Lady Bruce, with a hunarrv look in her eves, as she watched the child dancing with a dog down the broad terrare beneath the mosaic face of the Casino. "I have sought in every home in England, and now — this child " "What ? She would content you ? " asked Sir John in surprise "Then I'm sure we can arrange it- I'll speak to her father to-night." "It would be useless," Lady Bruce answered. "She is completely wrapped un in him — he must care for the love of such a child." "Nonsense, mv dear. Make the offer attractive enough, and I warrant we ran have her." "If we do not go in now, father said the young man, warningly. •True, true • we'll talk over this matter another time, Isabel." They walked off, and Lady Bruce watched the springing little figure outlined against a background of palms. Presently, the dog scampered off to his owner, and Mm came and perched herself on the arm of Lady Bruces seat. She flung back her fair curls with an impatient sigh, and looked out to sea with an unusually serious expression on her changeful little ■'How old are you, Mm ?" said Lady Bruce, breaking in on the child's reverie. "I'm really nine, but I m supposed to be ten," said Mm, gravely, "because, you know, if I were younger I should not be allowed to wait for my father in the Atrium at night." "And how long have you lived in Monte Carlo?" "Oh years and years: ever since I was quite a little girl, when dad and T came here together. Ido wish I was bigger still, because when they will let me. into the Salle lam going to belt) dad play. Oh, dear' Ido hope he will win to-day, he has been losing for such

a long time now," she added, mournfully. "You see, it is very bad when Zero won't come out when you are on quart© premier, and then does come out just when you don't want it to." "You are very learned on the subject of roulette, little Mm." "Oh, I help father when he studies it at home." Mm was pressing against Lady Bruces knee, and accepting her caresses with pretty gratitude. "I am going to tell you something very important." The child flung back her head and turned her clear eyes up. "Yes?" Would she come? Could she tempt little Mm to desert her father, if he would let her? Lady Biuce wondeied as her arms encircled the slender form Much as she wanted her to fill the gap in her life, Lady Bruce knew that there would be a sting of regret m her heart if the child agreed. "Yes?" said Mm, again. She had endeared herself in a thousand ways — her brightness her tenderness, her eager love for her father, her little womanly ways of helping those about her, her strange blending of ignorance and her pathetic insight into the lives of those around her and the vagaries of roulette. Lad- Bruce painted her picture in bright colours, and Mm listened attentively, drinking in the account of the fairyland she was invited to enter Gradually her head sank lower anr* lower against Lady Bruces arm. "Will you come to me, dear?" Then the little figure stirred. "And my father?" asked the child's clear voice. "I want you — I love you," said Lady Bruce, with a throb in her heart "My father loves me — my father wants me — dad has only me 1 " Mm's eyes were full of trouble. "If dad lost, and I was not there 1 No — oh, no — I could not come 1 " Mm flung her arms round Lady Bruce, and passionately returned her kisses. "Please do not speak to him — he might think I wanted to go with you. See — see, he is on the tei i ace— he wants me — I must go. T hope he has won." And the breathless, eager child slipped out of Lady Bruce'--grasp and sped up the wide flight of steps to the Whispering Gallery. Lady Bruce saw only a shabby, stooping man leaning over the parapet, but Mm saw the father to whom she was all in all , she knew not that he was what other men termed a "failure" : he was her father. If he had lost in the battle of life, what then? She loved him.

It was an opera night , the brilliant audience had made its way into the Salles dcs Jeux for a few minutes' relaxation before the culminating scene. As Sir John and Lady Bruce paused at the door to show their cartes d'entree, a little hand slipped into Lady Bruoe's. "Well, little one?" she said, with the smile she kept for Mm alone. "Please will you find my father for me ? " Mm looked tired and frightened, and Lady Bruce noticed a break in the childish voice. "He has been in there such a long time." "Of course. I will find him but, tell me, how shall I recognise him ? " Mm thought a moment. "Oh," she exclaimed, "he has violets in his but-ton-hole not bought ones, you know, but wild ones. I found them this morning in the olive grove." Lady Bruce nodded, and would have passed on, but Mm detained hei "He will be at the second table to the right, not 'suicide' table, but the one in the big Salle " "I know," said Sir John. "Come, Isabel, the interval will be over " Inside they met a group of friends Sir John stopped, but driven bv the face of the anxious 1 child outside, Lady Bruce passed to the second great table, a.nd looked searchingly at the various pi avers. Many wore button-holes, but they were the oarefully-arranged products of exoensive florist®. Ah, ther^ was one with a faded cluster of violets , evidently gathered by a childish hand. Lady Bruce moved round the low-hang-ing, shaded lamp to see him the better, for the owner of those thin, thickly hands must be Mill's father. He leant over the table, his face showing his utter absorption in the game, and Lady Bruce saw him in the full glare of the light. Was she dreaming? That must be Mm's father — and yet — and vet ! The contour of his face was strangely familiar. Was it — could it be — Heavens, it was her scapegrace brother, the man they had all deemed dead, these twelve voars, the man whose name had never passed their lips sine© he hal left his home, am outcast l Utterly unconscious of the scene around her, Lady Bruce stood, her eyes fixed on the ashen face of the man opposite. He was playing wildly; more than one experienced croupier glanced at him curiously as they again and again raked up his losses The ohef muttered something and a footman placed himself near, watching furtively as the diminishing

heap dwindled lapidly. Instinctively Lady Biuce knew that it would be useless to speak to him whilst he was ab£.ol bed 111 his mad gamble , she mus* wait till the end. As she watched the intent face and gleaming ©yes, hei thoughts leapt back across a vista of years. The opera had recommenced, Sir John had been unable to find hei. but Lady Bruce did not know . She did not see that the gorgeous groups had gone back to the theatre, and that tho gieat Salles dcs Jeux were comparatively empty and silent , she saw nothing but the ominous fall of the balls. She had forgotten even the anxious child in the Atrium. Presently someone spoke. There is some extraordinary play going on 111 the Trente-et-Quarante room, do you care to see it?" asked her step-son, his voice usually wideawake. The question startled her back to reality . "That poor child Mill ! Henry, stay here an instant. You see that gentleman opposite ? If he leaves the table speak to him — tell him I must see him." She glided swiftly away as she ended her sentence, unconscious that her earnest, low-spoken words had penetrated her brother's numbed thoughts. A» his last piece was swept away he raised his e^ es from the table, and saw her. for a moment he sat motionless, then took a card from his pocket, and scribbled a few words. As he rose from his chair it wasi promptly taken bv another eager player. Henry moved round, puzzled, but willing to carry out his step-mother's behest. The stranger spoke first. "You are with that lady in black, I think?" "Yes, she wants to speak to you. Will you wait here until she returns ?" The man hardly listened ; he was biting his lips as he felt in his pocket. "Yes, yes — I beg you will take this card to her — -now — it is very important." Henry hesitated, then bowed, and took it from the outstretched hand, and turned to seek Lady Bruce. He met her a few yards from the door. She read "I give you Mm • she is all I have left, in the world.— Robert." An instant later the sharp crack of a pistol rang through the room, followed by a woman's cry of intense horror. The surging crowd in the Atrium, eager for new sensations, pressed through the swing doors into the Salles dcs Jeux , a vague murmur filled the air, for the denizens of Monte Carlo are always eager to see the outward traces of the quickly-smothered tragedies that take place in their midst. "What is it ? What has happened ?" asked a dozen voices. "An Englishman shot himself? No — a Russian baron who had lost all. A vendetta? A plot to robe the Casino? Bah! a woman fainted. A shot? Nonsense, a rocket from a yacht in the bay, more likely." The blue-clad footmen were carrying something through a door no one had noticed before. The sphinx-faced croupiers were turning their wheels, and the little white balls sped on round their various cylinders; the rakes were in active use, for the gamblers still staked their coins. There were only a few more turns that night, their lost wealth must be regained ; what mattered it to them if yet another human being had plunged too deeply in the vortex? Could their ruin bring him to life again? No! Then — Messieurs, faites votre jeu. The relentless hands of the clock went on towards the closing hour and the set-faced players staked against Fate, heedless of the dead body of a ruined man beyond the well-concealed doorway.- And in the stran.ee to the Atrium stod a. white, straight little figure, petrified with a nameless fear. "Mm — Mill' My darling!" said Lady Bruce in a low passionate voice, as she reached her, almost before the echo of the shot had faded from the Atrium, dleadened by an outburst of applause from the theatre. The child's wide eyes sought her face as she sprang forward. "Father! My father?" Lady Bruces hot tears answered. Mm clung to her convulsively. "Henry — John — the carriage '"—" — M.A.P.