Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1883-11-25

While was dimly recalling this, and half
listening to my friend, 1 became suddenly
quite reused from my dream. Eaton had
been saying something about his iucapacity
to catch likeness.
II cannot make the people paint impress
me. One eace follows another swiftly, and
my model fits away with these spectres
Now, only one thing can impress face upon
my mind, feel sure-impress it so that it
Will stay by me and haunt me by day and
print itself on my soul at night l have
thought it all over. There is but one way
God help me! l must commit crime I
must kill some onei That face-his face
Will haunt me. | shall see only that, and I
can paint it. You see, l am quite calm in
this matter. have reasoned the thing out
l am a good man, my bitterness of spirit
will haraSs me into work l shall hold my
brush with remorse. 1 shall paint great, a
terrible picturel'
Great heavens! Gleason was right. This
is mailman, I thought, and glanced about
with my mental eye to take in the situation.
1t must be strategy versus strength. saw
at glance that 1 must not display the
slightest fear His plan was settled. must
plot to defeat it. In the first place I must
gain time. This might be only wild talk
"Whom do you propose to kill?" inquired
nonchalantly, although my heart seemed to
stand still as l waited for his answer He
lifted his oars, and l could hear them drip,
drip in the moments silence.
81 propose to drown man." he said
''Then will tie him to my boat-this, my
boat, that you and I are inland let him
float shall drink in the sight of that float
no in tta 61r-L yxyifI
light about it. and the world that has scorned
me will hold its breath"
Gan original plaI. inAed," I replied.
Have You chosen your man?"
Il have chosen you"
"You should have selected handsomer
face, or at least have made him shave be-
fore starting. a bearded face in the water
is-pshaw! very bad, Don't you seeT'
My voice sounded steady, and was lost in
admiration Of myself as man of nerve.
Don't you see." | repeated
81 shall see, for shall paint it, You take
it coolly," he continued, cycling me warily.
My thoughts were flying about in confu-
sion. l could not swim. Eaton knew it.
am slight man, a mere nothing to this
Hercules. No help, indeed, but by my wits
If was cool, SO was he l must try new
tack, unsettle the fixed idea shat anchored
his wild fancy and gave him this terrible
strength of purpose.
ga womans face would have been better"
[ suggested. Something really poetic about
that, now! Alb, look there.n | cried, an idea
striking me, and pointing as l cried out to
the moon mirrored in the water She had
risen, but had been cut off from US in the
heavens by a ledge of rock at our left, just
hax-
shone round and full in the water. Look
therew
''What do you seen' cried Eaton, his voice
trembling with excitement, his whole body
eagerly bent forward.
"a womans face in the moon in the
wavesm l called, gazing fixedly as if at a
vision. What a brooding face! What
shadowy hair! What slow smile! And her
eyes! All! do you see her eyes. She has
opened them! Have you killed herr"
81 swear to you, no." cried Eaton; 81 swear
to you, no! know no such woman l have
never killed her! have not even broken her
hearti Tell me more about herln
''She is young, very mystical, yet very real,
with a smile at one side of her mouth, while
the other looks quite grave"
This was characteristic of Anita's mouth,
and it was she l was describng-Anita as I
fancied her grown older, for had not seen
her, scarcely indeed thought of her, since that
day when we were children.
''It's pity you can't paint her FOR me, ="
said Eaton impetuously, as he gazed at the
| moon. ~ don't quite see her, but she sounds
great"
81 might try to paint her tomorrow"
suggested, taking a cigarette from my
pocket, and relapsing into my calm manner
again.
you forget-to-morrow will be too late
But you shall paint her to-night-now, be-
fore L kill you"
he put up his oars as he spoke and came
toward me, drawing a rope through his
heavy hands. He was in a state of wild ex-
citement, and | felt my light, airy manner
slipping away as he approached. | was chill
as-as my watery grave was like to be- Yet
L let him bind me hand and foot, and instinct
lively counted his deep breaths the while by
way of something to do. A lurch, a struggle,
and should have been overheard and lost.
Now that there seemed a chance for life |
was in terror, and l was more than half out
OF my senses as [ watched my Charon lay me
on the hithcr side of his stream He took me
from the boat as if had been a child. Then
he built FIRE
Il can mix colors by freight" he cried
and unfastenns my hands set his canvas and
easel before NE, gave me u brush and bade
me begin.
For the life Of me, and in spite of The
Threatened death so near at hand, could but
feel an interest III the freak
Il must do it in grays or browns 1t must
be e monochrome, or we shall ruin it, l
spoke impatently. So [ did it III grays.
The jut of black rock he waves, the moon
resting on the waves ia little Anitas face.
with the half-SolelIn, half-smiling look
upon it.
The strange scene the maniac beside me.
my own former fear and excitement and the
striking of my fancy gave me certain ficti-
tious strength. In less than an hour, as
should think, had finished my sketch 1t
was certainly weird and, as it seemed to me.
strong. In the distance | half suggested the
boat, and two men 70 it, one gazing eagerly
toward the moon and the face, and the other
lying in the stern, his arms over his head,
his eyes toward the heavens. The boat and
the men were small and well in the shadow.
"Bravoi bravom cried Eaton. Don't
touch it again! Give me the bruShi Here
and snatching it from my fingers he wrote
his name Thomas Eaton" in bold, black
letters under the boat ''This is my work.
remember-mine, not YOURS Ii will he a