Wichita eagle., 1888-04-01
A DREAM FACE.


and have just found beneath a pile of let
tiers, brings back the memory Of certain
rainy night seven years ago.
At few minutes after IL on that night,
which preceded the morning of Feb. 2,
1881, the streets of New York were de-
serted, and nothing was audible except
the fall of water, steady and monotonous.
1t was then that fell asleep, sitting in
my chair, and the book that had been
reading-a fanciful work on psychological
phenomena-dropped to the floor. / was
alone in my roorn-the fourth floor, front,
of a lodging house on Twenty-third street.
L remember relapSing into passive state,
permitting my head to fall backward,
allowing myself to fancy that the gaslight
had expanded until il filed my vision, and
finally closing my eyes. When my mind
was again the receptacle of impressions,
it was in what, for want of any other
term, must call dream.
l seemed TO be in Paris. / had gotten
there in dream fashion, without knowing
how. What evidence informed me that
the place was Paris I cannot say.
/ had never yet been abroad, yet Of my
locale I was mentally convinced. 1t was
night, it was raining, and Il was solitary
in lonely street. Houses frowped on
both sides Of the way. The sky was
black, ard there was no living being in
sight. did not seem 10 have physical
being; only consciousness and the sense
OF sight and a vague terror. / seemed to
be crouchlng somewhere, as If TO avoid
the sensation of a presence behind me. 1
did not realize the power to act or move;
only to perceive.
Some yards away gaslight shed a
spectral yellow glow upon the wet pave
ment. A rod or so distant its rays feebly
surrendered to the darkness. l concen-
trated my gaze upon this ulumined space.
1t was light in darkness, but it was
mournful. In the solitude 1t held my
eyes as il II were something Of fascina-
ton.
l do not know how long my dream re-
mained, as it were stationary; how long
it left me crouching in the shadow, watch
ing the Pickering gsslight.
Suddenly l was not alone. Some one
had entered the circle of light. A man,
Tall, mufaed, hurrying His hat was
pulled down over his eyes, his topcoat
collar turned up 70 his ears. He was well
dressed never clearly saw his face.
There was a rustling sound in the di-
rection opposite to that from which this
pedestrian came. Another figure became
visible. The two persons within the cir
Gle of light were approaching each other.
The second conner was q woman. She
wore heavy cloak and a veil. She moved
rapidly. The two figures met under the
gsslght. They were face to face.
The woman stopped. The man started
back a step, uttered an exclamation, then
he stood still The woman drew her hand
from its shelter beneath her cloak Some
thing was clasped in her fingers-some-
thing small, that glistened in the yellow
gaslgh:. There was flash of fire,
sharp report. and smolc rose in the air
The man lay on the pavement, rain wet
ting his face, a tiny red stream running
from his breast. The dim light enwrapped
his PROSTATE body in a sort of mist.
The woman stood looking down at him,
the revolver still smoking in her hand.
She raised her veil and saw her face.
1t was such striking face, so beauti-
full, so pale and Mortified, that shall ever
be able to recall it at VIII, as it appeared
to my vision then.
A few seconds passed. Then all be-
came dim, the picture faded, first the
dark street, then the dead body, the gas.
light last of all.
Rising above the pistol smoke, white
against the night, her facel
I came to myself dare not say I
understanding II was still raining
without, and the clocks of New York
were striking one. All through the night,
as tried to sleep. WAS haunted by a
woman's face, which stood before me in
bold, regular outlines, perfectly still
Six months after that night i was look
l.
newspapers, when my eyes fell BY chance
on few lines ralatiny that early on that
morning an unknown man, probably
English or American, had been found
dead, in street whose name | have
strangely forgotten, shot in the heart with
a pistol bullet.
Hooked at the date of the paper. It was
Feb. Q, 1881.
A curious coincidence, 1 thought to my
self. But the time has come when COIN
cldences no longer startle.
There she IS! See-with the orange
colored tights
The orchestra struck up = lively, elusive
air, as she danced to the front Of the
stage. She sang her ballad in light but
pleasing voice. There was daintiness in
her smile, refined grace in her move
mepts, that caught the attention even Of /
the blase.
| had dropped in to see an act Of the I
new burlesque 81 the - theatre. Ches- 1
ley, q journalistic friend Of mine. was 1
among the throng OK lobby loungers wait 4
ing for the curtain 10 rise on the second !
act He had been entertaining me with ,
an account Of the charms Of q newcomer
TO New York, an English gtrl, who played /
the part Of q courier. II was she Of the 1
orange colored tights
Rather pretty; l Ike her style I said, |
joining in the applause that demanded 4
repetition of her number.
Pretty! Is thst allS' demonstrated
Chesley. Look closer, and you'll call /.
her beauty"
she was smiling and bowing, and pre-
pairing TO sing acsin- The lights were
lowered, and the glare OF the Calcium was
turned full upon her.
Say, old man, do you know it seems
to me, don't know why or how, but. by
Jovel she reminds NE OF some one. Who
Is she, anyhow
''The programme calls her Genevieve
Royal replied Chesley; shes really
Louise Evan l knew her in London. =
ITO be sure. You know eyeryb0d |