Suspense.
And the producer of radio's outstanding theater of thrills, William M. Robson.
The story you are about to hear is unique.
It is horrible.
It is filled with terror.
And it may or may not be true.
In any case, every time a world's fair is held in Paris, it reappears in the papers
and magazines around the globe as a news story and travels by word of mouth to the ends of
the earth as a true story.
True or false, heard for the first time or twice told, we believe this great classic
of terror will keep you in suspense.
Listen then as Miss Vanessa Brown stars in The Vanishing Lady, which begins exactly one
minute from now.
Sometimes a man can have too high an opinion of himself.
Sometimes that opinion can drive him to great deeds.
Here now is one of America's legendary heroes to tell you of some of his unique characteristics.
If his adjectives seem a bit outlandish, remember that his image was an inspiration to a pioneering
people and he still affects a nation addicted to TV.
I'm that same David Crockett fresh from the backwoods, half horse, half alligator, a lethal
sketched with a snapping turtle, can wade the Mississippi, leap the Ohio, ride upon
a streak of lightning and slip without a scratch down a honey locust.
Can whip my way in wildcats and if a gentleman pleases for a $10 bill he may throw in a panther.
I can hug a bear too close for comfort and beat any man opposed to Jackson.
Folklore belongs to every nation's legendary past.
And I guess we Americans have our share of some tall ones.
The story you are about to hear first appeared in the pages of the Detroit Free Press in
the summer of 1889 at the time the Paris World's Fair was celebrating the 100th anniversary
of the fall of the Bastille and the beginning of the French Revolution.
It reappeared in the London Daily Mail in 1911.
Two years later, Mrs. Bellic-Lounds used it as the basis of her novel, The End of Her
Honeymoon.
And some time after that, it became the storyline of another novel, She Who Was Helena Cass
by Lawrence Rising.
As recently as 1951, it cropped up again as a British motion picture, so long at the fair.
It is a hardy tale, a sort of modern folk tale.
It has never been proved.
It has never been disproved.
And one can only wonder if in the dread secret archives of the police judiciary in Paris,
the real facts are recorded in fading ink on yellowing paper, locked forever from a
curious and intrigued world.
No one knows.
Perhaps no one ever will know.
But we can guess.
And this, we guess, is what might have happened to lovely young Cynthia Winship and her mother
as they arrived at the Hotel Crayon one beautiful summer day, the day the great Paris World's
Fair opened.
Bonjour, Madame.
Puis-je vous aider?
I don't understand French.
Is there anyone here who speaks English?
Bien sûr, Madame.
What can I do for you?
My daughter and I have just arrived from Marseille.
We're on our way home from India.
Oh, I am afraid, Madame.
We cannot accommodate you.
But you must.
I'm not feeling tall well.
And I telegraphed ahead for reservations.
Ah, ça c'est différent.
The name, please.
Oh, Winship.
Mrs. Winship, my daughter.
Mrs. Winship.
Ah, yes.
And it is indeed most fortunate you did telegraph, Madame.
For you I have reserved the last room in the hotel.
I'm so relieved.
Would you be so kind as to register?
Yes, of course.
Here, Cynthia, my dear.
You might well learn how to do this for yourself.
Yes, Maman.
Where do I write?
There.
In that line.
Oh, I see.
Voila.
You are fatigued from your journey, yes?
I should have the boy show you to your rooms at once.
Chasseur.
Chasseur.
Oui, Monsieur.
Madame, mademoiselle Winship, un numéro 342 tout de suite.
Tout de suite, Monsieur.
These are your baggage, Madame?
Yes.
These six.
Voilà le bagage.
Six pièces.
Yeah, this way.
Keep your eye on that porter, Cynthia.
Don't trust these Frenchmen.
I can't take a make-off without things, mademoiselle.
Here you are, room 342.
Entrez, Madame.
Oh, what a lovely big room.
Look, and the park out there.
Oh, square with the statues in it.
Uh, ladies, désire quelque chose encore?
No, thank you.
Here.
Ah, merci beaucoup.
Ah, thank you.
I'm so glad that you came.
I'm so glad that you came.
Ah, thank you.
I'm so glad that you came.
Ah, thank you.
Ah, thank you.
Ah, thank you.
Ah, thank you.
Ah, thank you.
Ah, thank you.
Ah, thank you.
Ah, thank you.
Ah, thank you.
Ah, thank you.
Ah, thank you.
Ah, merci beaucoup.
Here.
Ah, merci madame.
Ah, thank you, ladies.
Oh, mama, it's like something out of a book.
Yes, my dear, that's just the trouble with Paris.
On the surface it's surtractive, but underneath it's evil.
The furniture, the gilt clock, all this lovely marble table.
Oh, mama, everything is so French.
Now, they're very glad to be where everything's so English by this time tomorrow.
Oh, mama, thank you.
Ah, thank you.
Ah, thank you.
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