The Bozeman weekly chronicle. (Bozeman, Mont.) 1883-1889, 1886-09-01

with a faint smile and let her hand rest q
moment in mine as we said good night
@Wfi you smoker asked Mauleverer, and
IN my replying in the Affirmative be led me
% a comfortable smoking room, where
found everything needful provided for US.
Brankscme did not appear. had already
earned, however, that he was no smoker,
and / was not therefore surprised at his
absence. Mauleverec himself smoked little,
and long before had finished my cigar his
cigarette had been consumed WITH an
arol ,g, on the score of his delicate health he
by aud by let me to myself
CHAPTER VII
THE HAUNTED ROOM
am afraid l sat longer than / should
have done 10 the luxurious little smoking
room. It was not the admirable quality OF
Mauleverer's cigars that chained me to the
,rot. My mind was full Of all the incidents
II the day, and slowly pondered on them
as the fragrant clouds OF tobacco smoke
rose above ny head. Ny predominant
feeling was one of almost extrava2ant de-
light @She loves me! She loves meE was
The thought that most frequently came
1ppermost in my mind But ever and anon
there shot -scross the broad current Of my
10y sinister sense Of doubt and apprehen-
,ion. l remembered the inscription on the
tack OF Daisy's portrait, "Dasy Stanelife,
alias -" / recalled, not now with the
scornful indifference that had fe.t in
the train the wild words of Gregson, @There
Is murder going to be done at the pace to
which you are going, and you know it II
that were true. then, at least. l thought I
lid know by whom the murder would be
H. IL ta no
whom Dlisy had just described to me as
dangerous. Aye. ami once or twice re-
nembered how Gregson had involved all Of
as. myself ard Branksome, and even Daisy
herself. in a common condemnation with
this ruffiar l knew how guitless | myself
was OF all criminal plots against any human
being. But was not more certain of my
own innocence than was of Daisy's Let
me write that here with emphasis, SO that,
blamabe as may have teen in many mat
lers, shall at least be free from blame In
this.
But from all these wild and wandering
fancies my mind ever returned to the same
delightful thought of Daisy's love. That
sooner or later she should be mine, was re-
solved. As Tor Mauleverers millions, let
Them perish with him, if they were to stand
between US
Il was aroused from long, deep reverie by
the silvery tone of clock which stood on the
mantelpiece of the room. looked up. and
10 my surprise saw that it was one o'clock.
had spent more than an hour by myself
after Mau.everer had left me
There was all through the house that dead
and lemr silence which is never so COM
plete as in large country house at that houi
Of the night could feel, e. IL were, all
around me the great empty rooms, and tha
oug corridors With their mysterious wind
,ncs, and ths worm-eaten staircases, up and
down which those who had been dust row
for hundreds of years had once passed in tbs
Aush of life and health
There was not a sound, say, to break the
silence; and vet as | listened that very
silence seemed to become vocal, ana all the
air was filled with one rhythmic cry that
struck upon my tingling nerves with
distinctness which spoken words could never
have attained. "There is murder to be done
here; murder, murder murderP That was
what the awful silence Of the great house
seemed to say to me. knew that 1t was
nothing more than the effect of the fmagina-
tion due to the excitement of the past day.
Yet l started up in nervous terror and
lighted my candle, hardly daring to look
behind me as / turned from the room to
seek my chamber.
Where or how got wrong hardly knew.
found presently, however, that had
missed the corridor through which had to
pass on my way to the staircase leading to
my room. / turned into another passage,
thinking it might lead me in the right direc-
tion. As was passing door in this cor
ridor, Idistinctly heard voice raised as in
anger. 1t was Flinter who was speaking.
Course himl what has brought him here to
meddle with everylhingI You may believe
me or not, as you like. but If that Internal
boy is not put out of tbs way, and quickly,
too. we may as well give up the game.
heard no more There was a faint
murmur as though some one responded TO
FIinter, but / could catch no intelligib'e
sound so | passed on, hardly thinking for
the moment that what l had heard could
have any reference to myself The next
turn brought me in some inexplicable
fashion to the head Of the great staircase,
from which spot it was an easy matter for
me to find my way to my bedroom
closed the outer door opening upon the
lonely stair that gave access to my apart
ment and looked around me- l was in the
delightful little sitting room beyond which
the bedroom was dimly visible through an
open door. A fire had been lighted in both
rooms, but in neither case was it now burn
ing. The black ashes contrasted drearily
with the sumptuous furnishing of the two
apartments l did not linger in the outer
room crossed the threshold Of the haunted
chamber, and closing the door, began at
once to prepare for bed.
And now, in the very dead of the night
and cut off by long galleries and lonely stair
cases from any other human being, with
nerves shaken, too, by all the exciting incl
dents of the day, first realized the fact that
to sleep in this room with all its memories
and traditions was by no means so pleasant
an adventure as it had seemed few hours
earlier What was the ghost which was said
to haunt the placei sat down and tried to
recall The legend as had heard it alter din
ner. A woman, false and cruel, who had
once been the mistress Of the ball, kept the
young heir a captive in this very room Tor
many years in order that she might substi-
tute her own child for him In this lonely
chamber-so the story ran-the captive boy
had only one visitor; it was his half brother,
the child for whose sake his own life was
doomed to misery And the two had learned
to love each other, so that day by day
the Young fayorite would creep up
the dark staircase and find adrnis-
sion to the chamber where the true heir was
imprisoned One day the younger child
was playing as usual in the room when
something attracted him to the window. 1t
was open, for it was in the summer time
He peeped out and saw his mother standing
below him With a cry Of Joy he leaned
- -
in a moment he had overbalanced himself
and had fallen crushed and liteless mass at
the feet Of the cruel woman who had sinned
| for him in vain. A few hours later. when the
particulars which the shock OF SO terrible a
tragedy had produced had died away, the
lady climbed the dusty oaken staircase and
entered the room where the heir lay. over
whelmed with grief and horror at the fate
Of his little D aymate Dark vengeance was
on her face-the vengeance Of a woman who
has lost all that made life worth living and
who burns with desirs to make every
other woman childless There was the sud-
den glitter of knife, sharp cry Of terror
from the captive and then silence In the
morning the little prisoner was found lying
dead, stabbed to the heart, while beside him
crouched his stepmother. a gibbering
maniac.
This was the tragedy Of my room 1t waa
the ghost Of the lady that was said to haunt
It, though there were legends which told
/, how the cry Of child, long. low wall Of
misery. had been heard in the silent night
echoing through the corridors in the de-
serted wing in which the chamber stood. l
glanced round upon the rich hangings of the
| wall Had they seen that awful tragedy
enactedl / remembered that for scores Of
years. perchance century, no one had slept
! in this room before tonight It needed all