San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1891-03-25
A Dead Mans Vengeance
By EDGAR PAWCETE

He had supplied himself with two or
three candles and box of matches All
Was ready. His heart beat queerly as
he began his little journey across lots
and by dark clusters OF lonely foliage.
The CHASTITY character OF his undertaking
was not it's only drawback. He seemed
| IN see- again and again, before he reached
the vault forms dart out upon him with
vetoing gestures, accusative eyes And
how could he explain his trespassing
| presence in case any such arrest should
| occur?
But, in reality. he gained the vault
quits unobserved. 1t was built of solid
granite in the side of slight hill. He
listened for a moment, and then descend
| ed the small fight of steps leading in
ward to large metal door. Then he
inserted his key in the lock. 1t fitted
perfectly, and quite soon afterward he
had passed within tho interior of ths
vault, leaving the metal door behind
him just enough ejas to admit n certain
quantity Of air, yet not enough so as to
attract the notice of any possible passer.
He now stood in pitchy darkness A
heavy smell as of fresh cut flowers at
once oppressed him. He had ceased to
feel trepidation; his old magnificent
courage and GOODNESS had come back to
him. Slowly he struck match and
lighted one of his tapers. As the flame
struggled from intense dimness into COM
parative brightness the solemn, stone
wrought chamber became clearly visi-
BILE. 1t contained but three collins, each
laid in separate niche. One was that
of Louis Bonds mother, one that OF his
father and one was his own. The last
lay heaped over with wreaths aod
crosses. All the inches were large. and
in manner took from the usual grim.
ness of such receptacles by being I'M
cramped and commodious of aspect.
| Gerald had brought small sconce for
his candle, and now set both on the edge
of the empty niche, just above the casket
| of his friend He waited some time in
awed silence. To open the coffin was an
act from which ne shrank most reluc-
family. And yet his sacred oath COM
| PEELED him to perform this act. There
was only the usual lock to be pried
asunder, and for this purpose he had
brought with him capable instrument.
| Presently he banished his repulsion.
"How can there be the least dissertation
he thought, when am only following
| out LOUIS own earnest wishes? Besides
the VOW he once exacted from me there
is new stimulus in Brenda's account Of
that hidden paper"
| And yet to spend three mortal hours
in this dismal vault! He began already
to feel that his nerve power, strong and
trustworthy as it was, could scarcely en-
dure so drastic an ordeal. Still he must
make the effort. Looking at his watch
he discovered that only fifteen minutes
| of the allotted time had already passed.
And yet they had seemed far more than
| an hour.
| One stout wrench with his chisel and
the coffin was priedapart He soon looked
upon the calm, waxen face of Louis.
How like. and yet how completely soul
less and irresponsible! What hope Of any
vital resurrectional sign could possibly
be drawn from this pallor and apathy,
| He leaned closer above the still feat.
ures, familiar and yet utterly changed.
He forgot the concealed paper of which
Brenda had told him, while he parted
from the dead mans breast and chin1the
thick masses of flowers which lay there.
But he remembered. and with piercing
force of recollection, what he had bound
himself Of old to use every mental effort
in desiring and yearning after.
Some of the flowers fell over upon the
stone flooring of the vault-loose camel
las and white roses, with perhaps a few
glossy leaves of either. He meant to
5toop and pick them up, when suddenly
strange and horrible thing occurred
| The light went out. and it seemed to him
that as it did so u sharp metallic sound
rang through the dead, abrupt darkness.
And then something struck him, with
light. yet distinct, contact, full on the
breast. He lifted his hand and caught a
| stiff square of glazed paper.
THE hidden letter." flashed through
his brain. HE has given it to me him
| selfr'
For the first time in all his brave young
life Gerald Ravelow knew what it was
to be dilaed and half mad with terror.
Nly~--- *