Hearts and Masks

It all depends upon the manner of your entrance to the Castle of

Adventure. One does not have to scale its beetling parapets or assault

its scarps and frowning bastions; neither is one obliged to force with

clamor and blaring trumpets and glittering gorgets the drawbridge and

portcullis. Rather the pathway lies through one of those many little

doors, obscure, yet easily accessible, latchless and boltless, to which

the average person gives no particular attention, and yet which

invariably lead to the very heart of this Castle Delectable. The

whimsical chatelaine of this enchanted keep is a shy goddess.

Circumspection has no part in her affairs, nor caution, nor

practicality; nor does her eye linger upon the dullard and the

blunderer. Imagination solves the secret riddle, and wit is the guide

that leads the seeker through the winding, bewildering labyrinths.

And there is something in being idle, too!

If I had not gone idly into Mouquin's cellar for dinner that night, I

should have missed the most engaging adventure that ever fell to my

lot. It is second nature for me to be guided by impulse rather than by

reason; reason is always so square-toed and impulse is always so

alluring. You will find that nearly all the great captains were and

are creatures of impulse; nothing brilliant is ever achieved by

calculation. All this is not to say that I am a great captain; it is

offered only to inform you that I am often impulsive.

A Times, four days old; and if I hadn't fallen upon it to pass the

twenty-odd minutes between my order and the service of it, I shouldn't

have made the acquaintance of the police in that pretty little suburb

over in New Jersey; nor should I have met the enchanting Blue Domino;

nor would fate have written Kismet. The clairvoyant never has any fun

in this cycle; he has no surprises.

I had been away from New York for several weeks, and had returned only

that afternoon. Thus, the spirit of unrest acquired by travel was

still upon me. It was nearing holiday week, and those congenial

friends I might have called upon, to while away the evening, were

either busily occupied with shopping or were out of town; and I

determined not to go to the club and be bored by some indifferent

billiard player. I would dine quietly, listen to some light music, and

then go to the theater. I was searching the theatrical amusements,

when the society column indifferently attacked my eye. I do not know

why it is, but I have a wholesome contempt for the so-called society

columns of the daily newspaper in New York. Mayhap, it is because I do

not belong.