Wichita eagle., 1888-09-25
A LONG SLUMBER.

There were certain things in our family
which afforded subject of gossip: and this
died out, revived and died out again. accord
ing TO circumstances We had wealth-few
were richer than the Trelawneys All adj
united that we were just and even generous
IN our dealings with others; but we had no
intimate friends, and kept apart from our
neighbors. We neither made visits nor re-
ceived visitors. No invited guest ever crossed
our threshold, and those who came bust
ness were courteously bowed out when their
business was concluded a meal in the
kitchen, and sometimes a trihe of money,
was given to mendicant; but, the meal
eaten, and the money taken, the recipient
was unceremoniously turned out. Our serv-
ants had been with Us from their childhood;
they served US well and faithfully; they re-
ceived good wages; their duties were light;
they had kind treatment; their children We're
born and reared upon the place; when super
animated, their wages Went on until they
died: but they formed no attachment to Us,
nor We to them. We used our fortune liber-
ally for public purposes, Dut grew richer
every year. for we never lived up to half our
income, and with every generation the Ire
lawney property increased in extent, while
it shared the general appreciation of value.
The Trelawneys were lOnged lived, few
dying young. But there were few of them
born For six generations, with one excep-
ton but one child followed each marriage,
and that was always a son. The exception
was with my neutrality-suspicious. who
had brother, two years younger than him
self, named John. His birth was set down in
the family record as occurring in 1772, but
what struck me as singular was the absence
of any mention of the year of his death. He
seemed 70 have disappeared, and died proba-
bly, in some place and at some time unknown.
For some reason or other, a large amount of
personal property, supposed to have been his,
was held in trust by my great-grandfather,
and that trust had been renewed regularly
from father to son. l once asked my father
about this missing great-granduncle. A
deeper gloom than us1al overcast his face at
nv question. You viii know all about it
some day.n was his reply; and then he went
on to speak of something else.
Certainly both my father and grandfather
wore a troubled and gloomy look on their
faces. They were prey to settled melan-
cholv never saw them smile Every one
noted their careworn expression; but none
knew why.
There was a mystery. Next to the library,
in the northern wing, was a large chamber,
as laid down in the architects plan Of a cent
ury before Its shutters were always kept
closed. and a light was seen there all night
long. In the rest of the house gas had been
introduced from a small generator on the
premises This solitary lamp was filed and
trimmed by my father or grandfather, oil
being kept in the library for the purpose. No
one but they was allowed to enter the cham
Der which was kept locked, and each carried
u kew. And three times a day, no matter
whether they had breallfasted, dined or SUD-
ped or not, there was a slight reflection, not
enough for more than one, brought TO the
library. 1t was either milk or bouillon-
something liquid. They partook of it in
secret, the library door being locked until
the repast ended. And another remarkable
fact was observed, my father and grand
father never went abroad together. If one
went out, the other remained at home, as
though to guard the secret Of the chamber
Concerning tins mystery there was much
discussion among the servants. 1t was a
theme of never ending interest But, as
pither boy or man, when | happened among
them it was not touched, and | only inferred
their talk by the fact that when | appeared
the conversation was hushed. 1t was more
talked about after my mothers death. The
idea somehow got abroad that the chamber
was storehouse Of treasure This led to
the visit of burglars. But my grandfather,
who always slept in the library, having a
cabinet bedStead there, shot one of the burg
lars, and the other escaped. After that there
were no attempts Of the kind.
So | grew up, often wondering about, but
never knowing, the secrets of the closed
room. Unlike the rest, | went abroad a
g., IL,
Travelled in this country and Europe, in
which mode of amusing myself l was en-
couraged | had an ample allowance of
money. owned a fast horse, kept yacht and
some other things not quite 50 innocent. until
/ exhausted the resources of a mild diSsipa-
ton Suddenly my grandfather died, and L
Yves called home.
l found my father looking more gloomy
than ever. Between him and my grandfather
there had always existed an intimacy more
like that of brothers than that between
father and son Be asked me into the library
rs soon as I came, locked the door and bade
me be seated Then he said
''Nour grandfather's death makes it neceS-
sarv to impart to You q ghastly secret, which,
through precaution, should be kept by two
You have looked over our family recordT l
nodded You remember, then. there is no
account Of the death Of your greatgrand-
uncle John, who mysteriouSly disappeared
eighty wears since The reason is that he
never died at all He still lives, if his condi-
ton may be considered life"
He arose, and, taking a key from his
pocket, opened the door Of the great room
and entered. bidding me follow The cham
Der was long and lofty. The floor. which had
once been waved and polished, had evidently
been neglected, and bore on IT neither carpet
nor rug. There were & half dozen Of heavy,
old fashioned chairs, an old fashioned table
ornamented with marquetry and a heavily
curtained bedStead. My father threw aside
the bed curtains and pointed TO form upon
the bed.
At first I thought it was the wax figure of
avery old man but a second glance showed
me that il breathed. The eyes were closed,
the face wrinkled and pallii. L seemed less
ike one asleep than a man whose anima-
ton was nearly suspended. The features. in
spite Of the deep wrinkles, and the fact that
The lower part of tie face was hidden by
lonc white beard. We're those Of the Trelaw-
neys-au of whom had marked and peculiar
faces. / supposed that looked inquiry, for
nv father replied to my thoughts, though
had said nothing.
This has been the secret curse of the
family for eighty years, end Will continue
anti that poor Old frame wears out Come
back TO the library and l viii tell you ell.
With the evidence before me, and the fact
that ii was told by my father, whose -
fitness m on could doubt. was forced TO
credit the story. Thus 1t was