The five illustrations contained in the following pages, and the jacket design, are the work of the new phenomenal black and white artist, Wallace Smith. In making the drawings Mr. Smith chose to illustrate the spirit of the text rather than its letter. The result is this series of Renaissance pictures whose dark opulence curiously interprets the moods of the story’s hero, Prince Julien de Medici—of Broadway.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE I. [Velvet Souls] 17 Containing a nervous cavalier with frightened eyes. Introducing a mysterious and puritanical satyr. And discussing the tired ghosts that haunted the heart of Julien De Medici. II. [The Veiled Aphrodite] 30 In which a lady of barbaric eyes smiles, sighs, and weeps. In which Eros obliges with a saxophone solo. A morning of golden shadows and an off-stage pizzicato. III. [Murder] 38 In which Julien De Medici collides with a tantalizing corpse. In which a dagger, a candlestick, a crucifix, and a false beard mumble incoherently. IV. [The Empty Web] 51 In which a detective weaves a theory. In which Julien De Medici stares at a clew. In which Pandora raises a warning finger to her lips. A table set for two, an initialed purse, an ancient theater program—but the story waits. V. [Questions and Answers] 72 In which the world wags its callous tongue. In which dénouements thumb their noses at each other. In which Julien De Medici succumbs to a delicious madness. A Jesuitical policeman and an ambitious coroner flirt coyly with an Enigma. VI. [Labyrinths of Blood] 93 In which a detective attaches a pair of asses’ ears to his head. In which Julien De Medici removes for a moment a mask. In which a glimpse, incredible and disturbing, is caught of the soul of Florence Ballau. Who blew out the candle of the salamanders? VII. [The Haunted Room] 110 In which an apoplectic scientist explodes. In which invisible footsteps sound in a dark corridor. In which Julien De Medici opens a letter. The woman of the hidden eyes. Floria, the lady of the dagger, appears. In which underworlds collide. The staircase to Hell and a strange passion. A voice that spoke over the telephone. VIII. [Denouement No. 1] 132 In which Nemesis babbles cheerfully. In which the Dead Flower adopts new petals. Postmarks and time-tables and a false beard that sneers mischievously. Also a scrawl of vengeance, enigmatic ashes and a half signature. IX. [The Hidden Voice] 151 In which a scientist half opens a reluctant door. The strange sleep of Florence Ballau. The broken murmur. “It was ... it was....” In which a detective scratches his ear and sighs. In which Julien De Medici puts on his armor. X. [The Dagger of Mist] 161 In which a pathologist reasons himself into a railroad trip. Francesca of the spiral eyes. The ancient science of demonology. The visiting shadow. The dagger that glistened against the moon. XI. [Elusive Climaxes] 173 In which Julien De Medici finds himself grewsomely decorated. In which he passes triumphantly on his own innocence. The exonerating wound. Candlestick and cross again and the laugh of a new Francesca. A new doubt. A telegram both absurd and bewildering. Cinematographic clews. XII. [The Woman with the Cackling Laugh] 186 Treasures for sale. Bidders and buyers and candlesticks. In which an old woman makes an exciting purchase. In which Julien De Medici pursues an aged Alice in Wonderland. The beginning of a story. XIII. [The Two Florias] 209 In which Julien De Medici meets a train and grapples with a skyrocket. The triumphant phantoms again. In which Dr. Lytton relates an incredible story concerning dawn in Rollo, Maine. “Come at once—she is dying.” XIV. [Act II] 230 The burning-eyed visitor. An old favorite. Amateur theatricals. “Light the candles!” In which Julien De Medici reveals himself as an effective playwright. XV. [Hearts and Flowers] 238 In which Florence takes up the drama. A taxicab, as in the beginning. In which what is left of the reader’s suspense and curiosity is carefully removed.
THE FLORENTINE DAGGER
CHAPTER I
VELVET SOULS
Containing a nervous cavalier with frightened eyes—Introducing a mysterious and puritanical satyr—And discussing the tired ghosts that haunted the heart of Julien De Medici.
In the firelight the face of Julien De Medici appeared like a gray and scarlet mask of ennui. Oblivious of the ornamental room with its pattern of books, statues and tapestries, he sat stiffly in the carved wooden chair and stared at the burning logs. He was waiting for his host, Victor Ballau.
Except for the crackling of the burning wood, the room was still. Cowled shadows reared witch-like shapes across the walls and ceiling.
It was night outside. Wind quarreled with the stone buildings. Removing his eyes reluctantly from the burning logs, De Medici glanced at the darkness of the empty room. He studied the shadows with frightened eyes.
He was a curious man of thirty. An aristocratic ugliness marked his face. The long, thin nose, the high cheek-bones, the wide, inanimate mouth and the green-tinted skin gave him a lithographic rather than human air. His black hair was cut in a straight line across his forehead. He wore it unparted in such a manner that it made an almost square frame for the elongated rigidity of his face.