Press and daily Dakotaian. (Yankton, Dakota Territory [S.D.]) 1880-1889, 1886-04-09
THE CURIOSITY SHOP.

stood almost on tip-toe, looking over the
top of his gold spectacies. Markheim had
from the daylight streets.
They had been dickering for some time.
u have just one word to say to you" said
the dealer; aeither make your purchase or
walk out of my shop"
sTrue, true, y said Markheim. Enough
To business. Show me some
thing else.p
The dealer stopped once more, this time
to replace a glass upon the shelf, his thin
blonde hair falling over his eyes as he did
30. Markheim moved q little nearer with
one hand in the pocket of his greatcoat.
he drew himself up and filed his lungs; at
the same time many different emotions
were depicted together on his face-terror,
horror, and resolve, fascination and q
physical repulsion; andthrough a haggard
lift of his upper lip his teeth looked out.
aThis, perhaps, may suit" observed the
dealer; and then, as he began to re-arise,
Markheim bounded from behind upon his
victim. The long, skewer-like dagger
flashed and fell. The dealer struggled like
o hen, striking his temple on the shelf, and
then tumbled on the floor in a heap.
Time had some score of small voices in
that shop, some stately and slow as was
becoming to their great age; others garru-
lous and hurried. All these told out the
seconds in an intricate chorus of tickings,
Then the passage Of q lads feet, heavily
running on the pavement, broke in upon
these smaller voices and startled Mark,
helm into the consciousness of his sur
roundings. He looked about him awfully,
The candle stood on the counter, its fame
solemnly wagging in q draught; and, by
that inconsiderable movement, the whole
room was filled with noiseless hustle, and
kept heaving like a sea; the tail shadows
nodding, the gross blots of darkness swell
ing and dwindling.a az with respiration, the
faces of the portraits and the china gods
changing and wavering like images in
water. The inner door stood ajar, and
peered into that Lacquer Of shadows with
q long slit of daylight like a pointing
finger.
From these fear-stricken royings, Mark
heim's eyes returned to the body of his
victim, where it lay both bumped and
SPRAYING, incredibly small, and strangely
meaner than in life. In these poor, mi
serly clothes, in that u~ngainly attitude, the
dealer lay like so much sawdust. Mark
helm had feared to see it, and, To-! it vas
nothing. And yet, as he gazed, this
bundle of old clothes and pool of blood be-
gan to find eloquent voices. There it
must lie; there was none to work the cum
ming hinges or direct the miracle of loco
motion-there 1t must lie till it was found.
Found! ay, and then?
The thought was yet in his mind, when,
first n and then another, with every We
riety of pace and yoice-one deep as the
bell from a cathedral turret, another ring
ing on its treble notes the prelude of a
waltz-the clocks began to strike the hour
of 8 in the afternoon,
The sudden outbreak of so many
tongues in that dumb chamber staggered
him. He began to bestir himself, going
to and fro with the candle, beleaguered by
the moving shadows, and startled to the
soul by chance reflections. In many rich
mirrors, some Of home design, some from
Venice or Amsterdam, he saw his face
repeated and repeated, as it were an army
of spies; his own eyes met and detected
him; and the sound of his own steps,
lightly as they fell, vexed the surrounding
quiet.
Suddenly, from the street outside, a
very joyial gentleman began to beat with
o staff on the shop door, accompanying his
blows with shouts and railleries, Ia which
the dealer was continually called upon by
name. Markheim, smitten into ice,
glanced at the dead man. But no! he lay
quite still; he was fed away far beyond
earshot OF these blows and shoutings; he
was sunk beneath seas of silence; and his
name, which would once have caught his
notice above the bowling Of a storm, had
become an empty sound, And presently
the jovial gentleman desisted from his
Knocking and denarted.
Here was u broad hin to hurry what re-
manned to be done, to get forth from this
accusing neighborhood to plunge into a
bath of London multieudes, and to reach,
on the other side of day, that haven of
safety and apparent innocence-his bed.
One visitor had come; at any moment an
other might follow, and be more obstinate.
To have done the deed, and yet not to reap
the profit, would be too abhorrent a fail
ure. The m~oney-that wa now Mark
helms concern.
He found the keys and advanced toward
the inner door of the shop. Outside. it had
begun to rain smartly, and the sound of
the shower upon the roof banished silence.
Like some dripping cavern, the chambers
of the house were haunted by a faint in
cessant echoing, which filled the ear. and
mingled with the ticking of the clocks.
And, as Markheim approached the door,
he seemed to hear, in answer to his W
cautious tread, the steps of another foot
withdrawing up the stairs. The shadow
still palpitated loosely on the threshold. He
threw a toms weight of resolve upon his
muscles, and drew back the door.
The faint, foggy daylight glimmered
dimly on the BARE floor and stairs; on the
bright suit of armor posted, halbert in
hand, upon the landing, and on the dark
wood-carvings and framed pictures that
hung against the yellow panels of the
wainscot. So loud was the beating of the