Iowa voter. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1867-1874, 1873-10-09
THE PHANTOM PASSENGER.

When was younger in my profession
than am now, Dresden was my favorite
holiday resort. In the quiet and slow
flowing lifc-current of the Old World
bone of the fine arts, frequently sought
and found relaxation from the strain of
work.a-day months in London.
One January night found me seated
cold, travel-stained and weary--in the
train at Hamburg, en- route for my old re-
sort. Experience had taught me that in
Germany fellow-traveler implies an in
Simultaneous deprivation of the quantum of
fresh air necessary to keep the lungs in
play So, calling the guard requested
that might be secure from intrusion.
Touching his cap with lacOnic "gut," he
pocketed douceur and locked me In.
The train started. For few moments we
stop at a wayside station. consulted my
watch. How cold it grows as the day
draws his last shivering breath. Strange
at this hour the springs of being are at
their lowest in all that lives, whilst, in
mystic sympathy with the dying day, the
life is split out of those in whose cup are
only its lees. l wrap my cloak around
me.
Once more we were on the point of
starting, when the door l imagined Sc
curely locked was gently and easily open
ed. A lady entered, and seated herself
opposite me. Below my breath l con-
founded the guard for a false Deutsher,
and reflected how extraordinary it was
that the intruder should be woman; for
abroad the fair sex have special travelling
compartments where no man dare put in
an appearance and gice uersa. In the con-
fusion of starting she had doubtless mis-
taken her carriage, and now, perhaps, felt
uncomfortable.
AS the cold each moment increased, i
offered her one of my warm wraps, adj
dressing few conventional words to her
on the topic of the weather. "Thank
YOU" she said, in quiet and perfectly
selfpossessed voice, "but indeed do not
feel the cold you speak Of" A story is
often told in the tone Of a voice-and the
tone of this one was peculiar. Unmis-
takably English, and well bred; but there
was no ring in it, only certain hopeless
ness sufficiently pathetic. She had evil
IDENTIFY noticed some of my smaller pro-
fessional belongings in the netting above
me, for, as l silently pondered what man.
ner of woman she was, she thus address
ed me:
"You are an artist?" 81 am" "Could
you paint a portrait from memory 81"
'Most certainly" She removed the thick
veil that concealed her face, and laid
aside her bonnet The light from the
lamp fell full on her. She had lovely
face, but it was cold and white and still
as chiseled marble She encountered the
bold, steady gaze of masculine eyes, yet
no tinge of color flickered on her cheek
A mass of ruddy- brown hair was coiled
round her shapely head; large brown
eyes, full of the dumb, questioning pain
have seen in the eyes of hunted deer at
bay, looked out from between dark lashes
Marring the stainless white of the left
check, a livid mark ran from the temple
into the neck--it almost looked as if a
singing riding-switch had been drawn
swift and sharp across the face, burning
its brand into the delicate flesh. Her
dress was Of black velvet, and around the
throat and wrists were ruffles of costly
lace. "Yours," l said, ''is not a face
soon to be forgotten. / could any day
paint your portrait from memory twill
you do SO ~ "Certainly, if you desire it,"
II do specially desire it." took out my
notebook and entered memorandum
Promised to paint the portrait Of lady
from memory, this Goth night of January
IS She watched me make this entry,
and resuming her bonnet and veil, she
fell into silence
AS sat opposite this beautiful statu-
esque woman,a strange sensation stole over
me. Underneath that concealing veil
mere was still, white face, with stricken
eyes that haunted me and sent a chill to
Wy heart. God help her, | thought for
life has been cruel to her. Then ] unused
on the singular promise had come under
to paint her portrait from memory.
Would she come and claim the picture
Was to send it TO her? And where
must come to some finding before we part.
Meantime, in the first gray dawn, the
train stopped at Berlin, where we changed
carriages. For moment | turned to
gather together my small impedimcnta !;
when | resumed my position / was the
sole occupant of the compartment. Hop
ing to encounter my sometime companion
In the crowded station, / made haste to
get out. My efforts were in vain--I was
locked in. Presently the guard came
with his key and let me out. "There is