Adventure Magazine Cover, October 1911 — page 182: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

1128 his mother’s apron-strings. Red Riding Hood and all that stuff—I suppose it’s something that’s come down generation by generation from the time when mothers really did have to warn their youngsters against real wolves. Anyhow, they make me nervous. Still, I understood from the people at the hotel that they were tame enough and that the Princess always had ’em kept well under control, so I started off. “Tt was pretty gloomy by the time I got there and an occasional howl—sort of sor- rowful—that I heard as I approached the house along the private road didn’t cheer me up. I remember I hoped I should get on well with the Princess. I felt that I wanted friends—you know how these great black spaces make a townman feel, and the night, where there are no trees, is like a great black mouth and you’re walking into it. “Then you come to a lot of stark naked firs and, if there’s any wind, they moan at you and the heather and bracken hisses and chuckles under your feet. It gives me the hump. I prefer a murder investigation in and about streets and houses to one in a forest round about a dark old haunted- looking mansion ten miles from anywhere and with a dozen wolves singing mournful lullabies to themselves round the back. ‘“‘T sent in my card, marked ‘urgent,’ and a string of reasonably humble verbal apolo- gics. I don’t know whether the butler offered up the apologies or not but he came back regretting that the Princess was ‘in- disposed and unable to see me.’ I could see Madame Dolgourki however. I gathered that Madame was a kind of lady secretary to the Princess and I saw her. She was very amiable. She had known Major Stark, she said, and was very upset about his dis- appearance. I believe she was sincere. The Princess was very anxious that I should be given every assistance, she explained, and— what could she do for me? “Well, I ran through a list of the maid- servants, and Madame had them paraded . before me one by one. I had the ‘Mary’ locket before me on the table. I saw them all, from a splendid old white-haired house- keeper (she was like an elderly clergyman’s wife) down to a strapping, big under- housemaid. Not one of them could have been ‘Mary.’ You know there’s a touch of blood about the girl in the locket. At least she looks different from the ordinary run of girls. Adventure ‘Well, that finished my business at No- Man’s Court. I wasn’t badly disappointed, for I had not expected to find my lady of the locket right away, and, anyway, I couldn’t quite see why I should connect Major Stark with one of the staff of a Russian princess who is visiting England for a year or so. It struck me as curious that with the exception of Madame Dolgourki and the Princess every woman in the house should be English. But, after all, that’s their affair. I had noticed a big colored photograph on a table, and when we had finished the servant’s parade I took a look at it, with Madame’s permission. It was a portrait of the Prin- cess in all her glory, ttrown or tiara, robes, ermine, jewels. She’s wonderful. In my business we come across some beautiful women, but the Princess Komorzekovna, if that photo spoke the truth, is the most beautiful woman I ever remember seeing. “‘T ventured to say as much to Madame. But, aiter all, the Princess wasn’t ‘Mary.’ That child is unusual enough in her way, but she couldn’t have grown into such a woman. So I thanked Madame and prepared to gct out. My back was to the window and Madame was facing me. Just as she rose her face changed, the way a woman’s face changes when she sees some one behind you she recognizes. I turned pretty quickly, just in time to see a whitish blue disappear from the window. “<The man Lovell!’ said Madame. ‘Oh, but I recognized him. He was peering in.’ peel “LT STRUCK me as funny and I aa asked a few questions. Who was Lovell and why was he so anxious to see me? I knew, of course, that the ser- vant’s hall would be humming with gossip, but it did not strike me that any ordinary servant would be so keen to look at me as to climb a veranda and peer in through the window. ‘“‘Lovell, it seems, is the kennel-man and wolf-keeper at No-Man’s Court. Madame does not like him. Once or twice, it appears, she has noticed him staring too familiarly at the Princess. She told me he was always quiet, willing, deferential, and very capable in his line. But Madame dislikes him. She thinks he’s a Gipsy. Well, there wasn’t much in that—women are curious about men staring; sometimes it’s right, some- times it’s wrong—but I thought I’d take a look at Mr. Lovell on my way home. , CO MICLOOKS CO