The Columbia herald. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1850-1873, 1873-05-16

clever for me, and have dexterously re
moved my box and substituted another
The way in which make this pleasant
discovery is, that whereas mine was per
fectly flat at the top, on the surface o.
the object that is now beneath my fee
there is some sort of excrescence-
handle of some sort or other There is
no denying it-brave may bel may
laugh ut people for running from bulls
for disliking to sleep in room by
themselves for fear of ghosts, for hur
rying past tramps, but now | am most
thoroughly frightened / look cautious
ly, in a sideway manner, at the man be-
side me. How very still he is! Were
they his hands, or the hands of the mar
opposite him? 1 take a fuller lool
than have yet ventured to do, turning
slightly round for the purpose. He is
still reading, or at least still holding
the paper, for the reading must be q
farce. I look at his hands; they are il
precisely the same position as they were
when / affected to go to sleep, although
the pose of the rest of his body is
| slightly altered. Suddenly I turn ex-
tremely cold, for it has dawned on me
that they are not real hands-they are
certainly false ones. Yes, though the
carriage is shaking very much with our
rapid motion, and the light is shaking
too, yet there is no mistake. I look in
deed more closely, as as to be quite
sure. The one nearest me is ungloved,
the other gloved. look at the nearest
one. Yes, it is of an Opaque, waxen
whiteness. I can plainly see the rouge
put under the fnger-nails to represent
the coloring of life. [ try to give one
glance at his face. The paper still par
TALLY hides it, and as he is leaning his
head back against the cushion, where
| the light hardly penetrates, I am com
pletely baf1ed in my efforts.
Great heavens What is going to
| happen to me what shall do ? how
much of him is real? where are his
real hands? what is going on under
that awful cloak? The fur border
touches me as [ sit by him. [ draw
convulsively and shrinkingly away, and
try to squeeze myself up as close as
| possible to the window But alas to
what good? How absolutely and ut
terly powerless [ am! How entirely at
their mercy! And there is Watson still
sleepingly notwithstanding heav-
lily, opposite me. Shall try to wake
her? But to what end? She being
under the influence of that vile drug,
my efforts will certainly be useless, and
will probably arouse the man to en-
ploy violence against me. Sooner or
later in the course of the night, [ sup
pose, they are pretty sure to murder
me, but [ had rather that it should be
later than sooner.
While / think of these things, [ am
lying back quite still. for, as l philoso-
phically reflect, not all the screaming
in the world will help me; if had
twenty lung-power I could not drown
the rush of an express train. Oh, if
my dear boy were but here-my hIls-
band I mean-fat or lean, how thankful
I should be to see him! Oh, that cloak,
and those horrid waxy hands OF course
I see it now they remained stuck
out, while the mans real ones were
fumbling about my feet In the midst
of my agony of fright thought of
Madame Tussaud flashed ludicrously
across me. Then they begin to talk of
me. It is plain that they are not taken
in by my feint of sleep; they speak in
clear, loud voice, evidently for my
benefit One of them begins by say
ing, "What good-looking woman she
is Evidently in her premiere .jeaA'aeSSe
too''-reader, I struck 80 last May
''and also there can be no doubt as to
her being of excellent rank-a duchess
probably" CA dead duchess by morn
ing, think I grimly.) They go on to
say how odd it is that people in my
class of life never travel with their own
Jewels, but always with paste ones, the
real ones being meanwhile deposited at
the bankers. My poor, poor sapphires
good-by-a long good-by to you. But
indeed, I will willingly compound for
the loss of you and the rest of my Or
naments-will go bare-necked and bare
armed, or clad in Salviati beads for the
rest of my life-so that do but attain
the next stopping-place alive.
As I am thinking one of the men
looks, or L imagine that he looks, rather
curiously toward me. In a paroxysm
of fear lest they should read on my face
the signs of the agony of terror / am
enduring, I throw my pocket-handker-
chief-a very fine cambria one-over my
face.
And now, oh readerl I am going to
tell you something which I ana sure you
will not believe; / can hardly belieye
it myself; but, as I so lie, despite the
tumult of my mind-despite the chilly
terror which seems to be numbing my
feelings-in the midst Of it all drowsi-
ness keeps stealing over me. am now
convinced either that that vile potion
must have been of extraordinary
strength, or that I, through the shaking
of the carriage or the unsteadiness of
my hand, carried more to my mouth
and swallowed more-I did not mean to
swallow any-than intended, for-you
will hardly credit it, butt fell asleep
When I awake-awake with a bewil-
dered, mixed sense of having been a
long time asleep-of not knowing where
l am-and of having some great dread
and borrow on my mind-awake and
look around, the dawn is breaking. [
shiver with the chilly sensation that the
coming of even a warm day brings, and
lood round, still half unconsciously, in
a misty way. But what has happened ?
how empty the carriage is The dress
ing case is gone the cloak is gone the
man who sat nearly opposite me is gone
Watson is gone But the man in the
cloak and the wax hands still sits beside
me; still the hands are holding the pa
per; still the fur is touching me-
Good God / am tete-a-tete with him
A feeling of the most appalling desola-
tion and despair comes over me-van-
quishes me utterly. l clasp my hands
together frantically, and, still looking
at the dim form beside me, groan out,
"Well did not think that Watson
would have forsaken mel" Instantly,
sort of movement and shiver runs
through the fguIe; the newspaper
drops from the hands, which, however,
continue to be still held out in the
same position, as if still grasping it;
and behind. the newspaper, I see, by
the dim morning light and the dim
lamp-gleams, that there is no real face,
but mask. A sort of choked sound
is coming from behind the mask.
Shivers of cold fear are running over
me. Never to this day shall know
what gave me the despairing courage to
do it, but before I know what am do
ing, find myself tearing at the cloak
tearing away the mask-tearing away
the hands. 1t would be better to find
anything underneath-Satan himself
horrible dead body-anything sooner
than submit any longer to this hideous