Waterbury evening Democrat., 1891-09-09
The Mystery
of the Towers
n,ne ,rith my blood upon your head n

come with my blood upon your head"
 .Out with the truth, man, or if died a thousand times an everlasting death I would make you tell me. Speak now. and at once, or will send your black soul straight to your Maker, and He shall judge between us Speak, or may TO mercy to shown you In the next world, as you have shown none in this. Where have you hidden her"
 "Where you will seek in vain," came the answer, calmly and deliberately. May heaven strike me dumb if do not speak the truth. It Is my last wOrd."
 AS he spoke he raised his hand as though calling Heaven to witness his declaration. A cold cunning smile pass ed over his ugly dark features-a smile of deepery mockery, which reused me to the very depth of my soul
 "Devil p' l called, springing forward, but he was too quick for me. "You shall speak"
 He bounded back with an agility of which scarcely deemed him capable. saw he was slipping from my poweri saw him turn and smile once again at me that cold. mocking smile. And then then a sudden bright light blinded me, there was sudden buZzing sound, the air seemed full of mighty rushing wind then all was darkness.
 w hat was UE l am COnSClOuS OUCc more. struggle to my feet, and see be- fore me no open grave, no fast-spreading willow with its dropping branches. No; {; the tall, stately tree lies at my feet rent in twain by a fiery hand, blasted from foot to summit by an angry messenger of the clements and in its fall has pushed the stone slab back into its place over the vault. And Pedro-where Is he2 In mortal dread l stare round me afraid to stir or pove. He has gOne-escaped. A ''thank Godw half rises to my lps-then-What is that dimly defined heap which lies scarce a foot from me at the root of the uprooted treeP
 An instant and am by its side calling to him to whom lately wished the worst of deaths, by name. for it Is Pedro'S miss hapen form which lies before me, Pedro's white face blackened and shrivelled, but with that same cold smile upon 1t which looks up at me. Looks up at me. Yes, but the eyer are fixed, and as lay my hand fearfully upon him, Pedro does not spring up nor move or even speak.
 Now I realize it alL He had truly spoken his last word; he was dumb now for ever. With that black lie upon his lips he had gone, as I had in my anger prophesied, straight into the presence of his Maker. Dead-deadl No, 1t cannot be. l fling myself on my knees beside him; raise his head; I place my hand on his heart; it has ceased to beat I inn plore him wildly to say but one word. Then, seized with frenzy of fear, shake his lifeless body and strike 1t tiercely with. my hand. But no response. He Is dead dead, and in his cold heart his secret the secret on which my life hangs is locked in by that fiery hand-the hand of death.
 Deadl fling his body from me, and springing to my feet turn and race wildly from the spot, on, on in the darkness once more on in the night fleeing like a mad man over every obstacle-seeing, hearing, feeling nothing; only room in my heart to go. WhereP l know nor care not, only race on; wildly on like some ghostly phantom, fiinging my arms into the ar and shouting, shouting in the silence with might and main one cry Madeline, Madolinel On go until sud- denly my ears are deafened by mighty FoaH the very earth seems to tremble be- heath my feet. I stagger, cling wildly to nothing and fall, fall down, down once more into darkness, which seems to have no end. But strange as are the doings o1 the night that l have already recounted did not then know the strangest part o1 all It was this: Pedro had not, as i'm Rgined, so much as discovered our secret His visit to the vault was purely acci dental. Nor was there any living soul who knew-tnat Madeline yet lived