The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1885-02-11

walked, and managed To draw the hood
lver her head. She made no resistance
to this, but she let me do it without a
word TO show that she noticed the
action: Then, with me at her side, she
walked straight on.
She went at a swift but uniform mace.
as one who had certain destination in
view. She turned her eyes neither to
the left nor 10 the Tight-neitherup nor
down. Not once during that walk did
\ L see them move, not once did | see an
( eyelid culver. Although my sleeve was
/ touching hers, / am certain she had no
/ thought or knowledge of my presence.
made no further attempt TO check
/ her progress. She was not wandering
about IN an aimleSs manner. Some
/ thing, knew not what. was guiding or
/ impelling her steps to some set purpose.
( something in her dIsOrdered brain was
I urging her 10 reach some spot as quick
! lyas possible dreaded the consequences
/ or restraining her from SO doing. Even
/ II II was but an exaggerated case of
I sleep-walhIng ii would be unwiSe to
I wake her. Far better TO follow her I'M
! I'll the lit ended.
/ She passed out of Walpole street. and.
[ without a moments hesitation turned
/ at right angles and went along the
] straight broad road. Along this road
/ for more than half a mile She led me,
/ then, turning sharply round. walked
/ half way through another street: then
I she stopped before house.
An ordinary three-StoTY house of the
usual London type. \ house differing
very little from my own and thousands
/ of others. except that. by the light of
( the street lamp. | could see it looked i'll
cared for and neglected. The window
/ panes were dusty. and in one of them
was bill stating that this desirable
residence was to let. furnished.
l maryeled as to what strange freak
of mind could have led Pauline to this
| untenanted house. Had any one she
had known in former days lived here?
If so, it was, perhaps, a hopeful sign
that some awakened memory had IN
duced her to direct her unwilling steps
to place associated with her earlier
days. Very anxious, and even much
excited, l waited to see what course she
would now take.
She went straight up to the door and
laid her hand upon it, as though sheeX-
pected it would yield to her touch.
Then, for the first time. she seemed to
hesitate and grow troubled.
Pauline, dearest" l said, "let us 90
back now. 1t is dark, and too late to
go in there tonight. Tomorrow, if
you like, we Will come again"
She answered not. She stood before
that door with her hand pressing against
it. ! took her arm, and tried gently to
lead her away. She resisted with pas
sive strength | should not have believed
she possessed. Whatever was the dim
ly conceived object in my poor wife's
brain, it was plain to me it could only
be attained by passing through that
door.
| was quite willing to humor her.
co fa I TO-
To cross her wishes in thepresent state
of things | felt might be fatal. But how
could we gain entrance?
There was no CLEAN ofEght upstairs.
As you looked at the house you knew
lntultlvely 1t was uninhabited. The
agent whose name appeared on the bill
carried on business mile away, and,
even if had Ventured to leave Pauline
and go in search of him, at this time of
night my expedition would be fruitless.
As | cast round, wondering what was
the best thing to do-whetheT to fetch
cab and carry my poor girl into it, or
whether to let her wait here until she
recognized the imposSibility of enter
ing the house, and. at last growing
weary. choose to return home of her
own accOrd-as | debated these alterna-
tives sudden thought struck me. Once
before my latchkey had opened a strange
bility it might do so again. | knew that
uninhabited houses are often from care
1esSness or convenience left with doors
only latched. 1t was an absurd idea.
but. after all, there was 10 harm in try
ing. | drew out my key, a duplicate of
that used on another occasion. | placed
it in the keyhole without a hope Of sue
cess. and, as | felt the lock turn and
saw the door yield, thrill of something
Ike horror ran through me. for now
that II had come to pass | knew this
thing could be no mere coincidence.
As the door opened, Pauline. without
word, without gesture of surprise,
without anything that showed she was
more aware OF my presence than before.
passed me and entered first. | follow
ed her, and, closing Inc door behind me,
found myself in perfect darkness. [
heard her light quick step IA front OF
me; | heard her ascending the stairs;
| heard a.doOr open. and then, and only
then, | summoned up presence of mind
enough to force my limbs to bear me in
pursuit-and my blood seemed to be
iced water my flesh was creeping. my
hair was bristling up. as, still in dark
ness / crossed the hall and found the
staircases without difficulty
Why should / not find it, dark, pitch
dark as it wasp | knew the road to it
well! Once before | had reached 1t in
darkness, and many times besides, in
dreams. had ! crossed that space! Like
a sudden revelation the trath came to
me. 1t came to me as the key turned
in the lock. | was in that very house
into which | had Strayed three years
ago. | was crossing the very hall, as
cending the same stairs. and should
stand in the identical room which had
been the scene of that terrible uneXpi-
ated crime | should see with restored
sight the spot where, blind and helpless,
/ had nearly fallen a victim TO my rash
ness. But Pauline, what brought her
here?
Yes, as l expected, as. in fact. / felt
Certaiul The stairs the same and the
Intel of the door in the exact place it
should be. | might be reactiug the
events OF that fearful night. complete
even TO the darkness. For moment
/ wondered whether the last three years
were not the dream; whether | was not
blind now; whether there was such a
being as my wife? But | threw the
fancy aside.
Where was Paulinep Recalled to my
self. [ realized the necessity of light.
Drawing my matchbox from my pocket
| struck vesta, and by its light l EN-
tered the room which once before ! had
entered with little hope of ever leaving.
NV first thought, my first glance, was
for Pauline. She was there. standing
erect in the apartment, with both hands
pressed to her brow. The expression of
her face and eyes was little changed; it
was easy to see she cOmprehended moth
ing as yet. But | felt that something
was struggling with her, and dreaded
the moment when it should take cOher
ence and form. | dreaded it for her
and | dreaded it for myself. What aw-
| full passages would it reveal to me,
The wax light burned down to my
/ fingers. and | was compelled to drop it.
! I struck another. then looked about for
some means of making the illumination
/ sustained. To my great JOY / found a
/ half-buTned candle in candleStick on
/ the mantelpiece. | blew the thick dust
out of the cup formed by the melted
| wax at the bottom of the wick, and aft
/ er little splutterlng and resistance,
managed to induce it to remain lighted.
Pauline stood always in the same at
| titude. but | fancied her breath was
quickening. Her fingers were playing
convulsively round her temples, fidget-
ing and pushing her thick hair back,
striving, it seemed to me, to conjure
| thought to return to that empty shrine.
l could do nothing but wait; and whilst
waited | glanced around me.
We were in a good-sized room, sub
! stantially but not fashionably furnish
ed; style altogether was that of an ordi-
nary lodging house. 1t was clear it had
not been occupied for some time, as
dust lay thick ON every article. | could
throw my mind back and recall the very
corner of the room in which | was sta
toned whilst the asSassinS were SC
busily engaged. l could mark the spot
where ellupon the yetquivering body
and shuddered as 1 could not resist
peering on the floor for traces of tbs
crime. But if the carpet was the same
! one. it was of dark red hue and KEEP
its secret well. At one end of the room
were folding doors-it must have beer
from behind these | heard those haunt
ing sounds of distress. / threw then
open, and, holding my candle on high
looked in. The room was of much tn.
same kind as the other one, but, as