Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1884-1886, 1886-05-18
SECOND SIGHT.
A Story Told by q Highly Imag.
NATIVE Musician.

will always continue to have much in
tercst for rcaders-and even the most
practically minded persons. Here is
one which seems to us to have a pecu-
liarly strange character, touching upon
what ancients and moderns have alike
termed second sight.
In former times the forest of Senart
had bad name. One fine summers
night in 1899 the diligence going from
Paris to Melun entered great avenue
of oaks which traversed the whole
longth of the forest-olks centuries old
and SO vigorous of foliage that the road
beneath them remained enveloped in
darkness. The back and forward COM
partments of the vehicle were full;
there were only two travellers, however,
in the interior, and on the outside sat a
country tenor, singing with the whole
force of his lungs rondeau at that
time greatly in vogue-''La Belle Ar
.senne." Under such circumstances
there did not seem TO be any danger for
anybody and the driver kept his horses
Mt walk.
But on reaching Corbcil he whipped
up his animals and drove them into the
old sleeping town at rafting pace
that shook the pavement. They halted
at the relay station and all the passen-
gers got ont at the invitation of the
driver. who was glad enough of the
chance 10 get drink. Then they began
TO look around ut each other. to yawn,
and TO count up how many were in the
party.
''Well. this is very qneerl'' cried the
driver Where on earth are my two
inside passengers gomez
Don't bother yourself, old boy"
said the tenor; ''your two passengers
will turn up all right somewhere; the
wolves haven't eaten them"
''Parbleu," retorted notary who
was one of the passengers, Il don't
think il is so very certain they will turn
up. Just before we reached the forest
l leaned over TO their door to offer
them pinch of snuff. =
They waited and waited in vain. The
conductor fretted. the voyagers began
TO lose patience-still nobody came.
After an hours waiting the passengers
had 10 proceed upon their way without
seeing or hearing any thing of the two
persons who had disappeared in SO
mysterious "A manner.
Some DAYS after this incident NJ.
Mehul. a professor At the conservatoire.
was notified by the police that his
oldest and best friend. M. had never
been seen since the evening he had
taken the diligence for Melun. in the
Cour DIES MesSageries. The news caused
great pain 10 the illustrious maestro,
and he at once took all possible meas
urcs To have his friend found. alive or
dead. These efforts proved altogether
fruitleSs. The extraordinary circum-
stances of this disappearance impressed
the artist very strongly; he thought and
spoke of nothing else, and his grief left
him slecpleSs He lost his appetite,
and his health was considerably affected.
One night, while tossing feverishly in
his bed trying to sleep in vain, he heard
the clock of ST. Roche Church, near
where he lived, strike two o clock. The
moonlight. entering between the shut
ters-which Mehul always left half
open. so that he might be the better
able to get up earlv-filled the room
WIN itiAst'AiN oust thSh
the musician saw. quite close to his bed.
small humpbacked man with very
ferocious countenance. who was hold
ing in his long. clenched fingers n coil
Of rope.
Mehul rubbed his eyes and rose up in
bed. trying 10 convince himself that he
was not the victim of nightmare.
The man still stood there, within few
feet of the bed. and the artist was on
the point of asking him what this ex-
traordinary visit meant when all of
sudden his tongue Glove to the roof of
his mouth. his hair stood up anda great
trembling came upon him. Right be-
hind the figure of the hunchback he had
suddenly perceived another form, vague
and all white. whose eyes appeared to
be seeking his own. Mehul recognized
that presence. 1t was the phantom of
his dear lost friend, At the same mo-
me1t the moon was yelled by a cloud.
the room became dark. and the vision
vanished, In vain Mehul struggled
with his fear; he waited. he watched.
he invoked again the lugubrious vision;
trouble the rest of his night, and in the
morning. ttcEWHtlflltu Will lttiEut.
he fell into feverish sleep. He awoke
very late and tried to collect his thoughts
and fancies of the evening before.
IL must have been dreamingw he
declared. as he hurried to dress TO 60
TO the Opera House, where there was
to be rehearsal of '.Irato." This is
what comes of being haunted by fixed
idea-the brain at last becomes affected
by it, and the mind can not distinguish
the reality from the dream. And yet
how clearly defined. how vivaciously
real were the impressions Of that
dream. l could have sworn was
awake-that l saw my poor friend
looking sadly at me and trying to mako
signs to me! But again-that little
hunchback!-what the devil was he
doing there? All! bah! the whole
thing is absurd. I will not tell any
body-not even my wife-about the
haliucination have had; they would
only laugh at me, and they would be
iusti6edf'
Every thing is forgotten in this
world, even the most startling impress
sions, and in the lapse Of time, Il Me-
hui occasionally thought OF his friend,
he nevertheless completely forgot the
double apparition that had momentar1iy
fairfield him