San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1886-09-28
The Haunted Chamber.
BY "THE DUCHESS. ="


] IVUttids &C. &c
she rises 70 nGT feet ana grow dead
/ " pale as she SAYS this. as though the
sensation of fear she has been describ-
ing has come TO her again.
"You saw" prompts Dora. rising
too, and trembling violently. as though
| in expectation of some fatal tidings.
81 saw the door of the room that
leads to the haunted chamber slowly
move. 1t opened: the door that has
been locked for nearly fifty years. and
that has filed the breasts of all the SER
wants here with terror and dismay, was
cautiously thrown open. \ scream
rose to my lipS.but | was either too ter
rltied to give utteranCe to it, or else
some strong determination too know
what would follow restrained me, and
] stood silent. like one turned into
stone. had imstnctively moved back
step or two. and was now completely
hidden from sight. though | could see
all that was passing in the corridor
through Il hole in the framework of
the screen. At last figure came with
heStating footsteps from behind the
door into the fun glare of the flicker
ing lamp. | could see him distinctly.
Ii was"
Arthur DynecOurt." cries the widow,
covering her CHASTITY face with her
hands.
Florence regards her with surprise.
1T was" she says ut last. But how
did you guess it,"
81 knew it." cries Dora frantically.
"IIe has murdered him. he has hidden
his body away in that forgotten cham
Der. He was glOating over his victim,
no doubt, just before you saw him,
stealing down from secret visit to
the scene of his crime"
Dora" eXClaimS Florence, grasping
her arm, eff he should not have murder
him after all, if he should only have
secured him there, holding him prison.
er until he should see his way more
clearly to getting rid of him! If this
idea be the correct one. we may yet be
in time to save. to rescue him"
The agitation of the past hours prov
ing now too much for her, Florence
bursts into tears and SObs wildly.
Alas. | dare not believe i'll any such
hope" says Dora. 81 know that man
too well to think him capable of show
ing any mercy"
"And yet that man. as you call him,
you would once have earnestly recon-
mended to me as a husband" returns
Florence, sternly.
'DO not reprOach me now" eXclaims
Dora; later on you shall say to me all
you wish, but now moments are pre-
ciOus."
you are right. Something must be
done. Shall I-Shall | speak to Mr..
Villiers?"
Il hardly know what to advise"-dis-
tractedly. IF we give our suspicion
publicity, Arthur DynecOurt may even
yet find time and opportunity to battle
and diSappOint us. Besides which, we
may be wrong. He may have had moth
ing to do with it, and"
AT that rate, if secrecy is to be our
first thought, let you and me go alone
in search of Sir Adrian"
"AlOne, and at this hour, to that aw-
full room" eXclaimS Dora, recoiling
from her.
"Yes. at neutrality-suspicious. an
other moments delay"
"Oh, can not" declares Dora, shud-
dering violently.
Then | shall go alOne!"
As Florence says this. she takes up
her candleStick and moves quickly to-
ward the door.
"Stay, will 60" cries Dora tremb-
ling. But slight interruption occur
ring at this instant, they are compelled
10 walt 1Of aNlllle.
Ethel NillierS, coming into the room
to make her parting adieuS to Mrs.
Talbot, as she and her father intend
leaving next morning, gaZeS anXiOuSly
from Florence to Dora. seeing plainly
that there is something amiss.
what is it?" she asks kindly, going
up to Florence.
Miss Delmaine, after little heSita-
ton, encouraged by glance at Dora's
terrified C0untenance, determines on
taking the newcomer into their conf
dence.
In few words she explains all that
has taken place. and their suspicion.
Ethel. though paIing hereath the hOr-
ror and surprise OccasiOned by the re-
cital, does not lose her self-possession.
Il will go with you" she volunteers.
But, let me say" she adds. Il think
you are wrong III making this search
without man. If-if indeed we are
still in time to be of any use to poor
Sir Adrian-always suppOsing he really
is secreted in that terrible rOOm-I do
not think any of us would be strong
enough to help him down the stairs,
and, if he has been slowly starving all
this time, think how weak he will be!'
al
cOnjure up" eXclaimS Florence, nery-
Ously clasping her hands. But you
are right, and now tell me who you
think can best be depended upon in
this crisis"
II am sure" says Ethel. blushing
slightly, but speaking with intense
earnestness, that, if you would not
mind trusting Captain RingwOOd, he
would be both safe and useful"
As this suggestion meets with ap-
proval, they manage to convey mes
sage to the captain, and in very few
minutes he is with them, and is made
acquainted with their hopes and fears.
Silently, cautiously, without any
light, but carrying two small lamps
ready for ignition. they go down to the
corridor where is the door that leads to
the secret staircase.
Turning the handle of this door,
Captain RingwOOd discovers that it is
locked. but, nothing daunted. he pulls
it so violently backward and forward
that the lock, rusty with age, gives way
and leaves the passage beyond open to
them.
Going into the small landing at the
foot of the staircase, they close the
door carefully after them, and then,
captain RlngW0Od producing some
matches, the, light the two lamps and
60 swiftly with anxiously beating
hearts, up ; stairs.
The second door is reached, and now
nothing remains but to mount the last
flight of steps and open the fatal door.
Their hearts at this trying moment
almost fail them. They look into one
another's blanched faces, and look
there in vain for hope. At last, Ring
wood, touching Ethel's arm, says, in a
whisner-