The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1891-09-15
Ehs aa Badly gaals guesdap 9orng September l5 1881

room and there wished me good night.
even remember little Lizzie having fallen
asleep in her fathers arms. kissed har
little cheek, paled by sleep, and her dimpled
little arms.
Left alone, I began to undress slowly
aud wander about the room, as one always
does when one sleeps in a strange place. /
felt as if 1 should smother in the close at
mosphere of the room. Before getting into
bed / wanted to inhale a little of the out
side air, and in spite Of the roaring of the
storm I tried to open the window. 1t was
false one.
swell, well,"I exclaimed, little sur
prised.
l thought would remove the chimney
screen; it was a false chimney. rushed
to the door-it was locked. Fear seized
me, and holding my breath listened. The
house was quiet; all seemed to be asleep.
Then l inspected the room carefully,
soraining my ears for the least sound. On
the floor, near the bed, noticed spots;
they were blood-dFied and blackened
blood / shuddered, and cold sweat stood
out on my forehead.
Blood! Why should there be blood there?
And / saw that 9 whole sea of blood must
have been spilled there, for great space
around the hard wooden floor had been
freshly scrubbed and scraped. Under the
bed / had seen man stretched out, mo-
tionless as an overturned statue. With
trembling hands / touched the man. He
did not move. With trembling hands
seized the man by the feet and drew him
forth-he was dead. His neck had been
clearly cut, as with one stroke of the razor,
nd ha1H tn no frnF nh hu n
slender ligament.
I thought should go mad. But some
thing must be done-ths assassin might
come at any moment. raised the body
to place it on the bed. ! made false step
and the head turned over, swung to and
fro for a moment like a pendulum, and
then, detached from the trunk, fell on the
floor with dull sound.
With great difficulty introduced the de-
capitated trunk between the sheets. /
picked up the head and placed it on the
pillow, like that Of sleeping man, and
having blown out the candle, slipped un-
der the bed.
I did all this mechanically, without
thought Of defense or safety. It was in
stinct that prompted me, not intelligence
or reflection. My teeth chartered. My
hands were wet with thick moisture. l
felt as If had gone to bed IN charnel
house.
l remained there in that awful fear for
minutes, hours, months, years, centuries
/ do not know how long. lost all idea of
time and place. All was silent. From
without the noise of the storm and the
whistling of the wind came to me softened
and sad, like means,
l could picture TO myself the assassin
who was coming-who was there, perhaps.
In that state of horror l could see only lit
tie Lizzie, fair, rosy and frank, with her
doll and her great hat. 1 could see her
sleeping in her fathers arms. Now and
then she lightly raised her eyelids and dis
closed her eyes, which seemed to me to be
bold, implaca5le, cruel. murderous.
The door opened, but as softly as the
scratching of mouse. I bit my lips till
the blood came to keep from crying out.
Now a man stepped in with a gliding
tread, with infinite precautions to avoid
touching the furniture 1t seemed to me
as if could see the cruel clutching fingers
gliding over my clothes, searching my
pockets. Then the steps came nearer
seemed to Craze me. l felt that the man
was bending over the bed; that he struck
one fierce blow. Then 1 knew nothing
more.
When recovered consciousness the room
had become silent again. But fright held
me nailed to the spot. At length decided
to escape-with what caution you may i'm
agine. On tiptoe gained the door, which
had not been closed. Not a sound, not a
breath. Feeling my way passed into the
hall. / waited to see head thrust sud-
denly from out the shadows, knife CLEAN
in the dark. But no; the brute, glutted
with crime, slept without remorse. l de-
scended the stairs, drew the bolt of the
door, and half fainting, with the blood
frozen in my veins, / fell into the gutter of
the deserted street.
DR.. Bertram has listened to my recital
with the deepest interest.
"And there 1 found you, Mr.. Furniss-
the house?"
eyes," replied; "but to what end"
"Well, let me cure you, and then we will
60 together to the house of these assas-
sins"
Eight days later the doctor and stood in
Lower Abbey street. recognized the ter
rible house. All the blinds were drawn.
In front of the door a placard was placed,
bearing the words, "To let."
Inquired of the former residents from
a neighbor.
'They have been gone a month and
more" she replied. cts great pity, for
they were very nice people. "-Brooklyn
Citizen.