The record-union., 1891-06-06

1
creep stealthily upon the present in his
| fancy, his brain turned gradually drowsy.
When the good innkeeper presently en-
| tered the room, feeling dull in the lack of
his usual customers on this dreadful
night, and thinking to pass jovial word
or two with his solitary guest, he saw
| that our frail roysterer had fallen asleep,
his head sunk in his folded arms upon
the table, while one hand, extended
| slightly, held out the crimson flower as If
offering an aims to oblivion.
But the oblivion was hardly of the kind
| that the master of the Three Friars was
likely to imagine
1t seemed to Julius, half consciously
giving himself up to the sensuous fumes
of sleep, that after awhile some one came
/ to his side and touched him on his elbow.
This, it seemed natural enough to find,
was the pompOus footman who had made
part OF the little comedy of the carriage at
| the theater door. And now, behold! he
bore in his hand flower which he gave
to Julius with an officious air of mystery,
and then was gone again. Well might
Julius recognize the flower and follow.
In moment he had passed out by some
unusual exit, and felt the chill night air
on his cheeks, as he perceived stately
/ carriage with two horses drawn up here
in a narrow street that was like no street,
surely, ever known in London. From
the carriage, as the fOotman opened the
door for him, Julius saw welcoming
hand stretched out to him, and caught
| the glance of Well-knoWn eyes, aud the
! gleam OF soft silk and lace, and sudden
| fragrance-the same fragrance still of the
mysterious flower. 1t did not need the
voice, which said simply Julius" in the
well-known way, half of remonstrance,
| half of raillery, to tell who this might
! be. Words failed him in reply as he en-
tered the carriage, and sank back ON the
seat at her side, while there succeeded the
sensation of being whirled rapidly
through the streets of dark and un-
known city. More than once he wished
to speak to his companion during this
strange ride, but he could not summon
up words, and could only glance at her
from time to time with sense as of
heaven entered. She, too, was silent, she
whose wit was so restless of old; and he
saw that her cheeks were paler, and the
mysterious eyes still more mysterious
and more sad than they used TO be.
When the carriage stopped Julius found,
as they dismOunted, that they were at the
foot of wide flight of steps leading to a
spacious colonnade. Ascending here, his
companion leaning lightly upon his arm,
when they had heard the carriage driven
rapidly away, and had reached the mar
bic terrace above, she made him turn round
to discover an open plain far below the
dim lines of streets and houses family
displayed that told Of some great city
there, while beyond all was space of
sea. But they turned now along the coll
onnade to find Il lofty doorway which
must be, he knew, the doorway of q the
ter, though the building was like no the
ater that ever was, since the days when
the Greeks first curtained off the open air
with marble. a sense of deSertiOn hung
about the empty colonnade and the great
doorway, and when julius knocked at
its immense panels the echoes repeated
themselves in a way that singularly
startled the silence. On the DOORS open
ing, it showed only an apparent dark
ness within, and the half dfscerned shape
of some departing usher. But they found
it light enough to make their way up a
wide staircase and along circular corri-
dor, and SO through Il little doorway into
a balcony which overhung the auditori-
um of an immense theater. In the whole
interior there was the only faintest light,
and as Julius fastened to place chair for
his companion, the half darkness and the
air of desertion made him feel as once
long ago when, a child, he had been shut
into church one evening at dusk with a
playmate, a little girl for whom he had a
childish romance, when love and fear had
held doubtful struggle in his mind. So
Silvia, too, when he was about TO take a
seat somewhat distant, stretched out her
hand as that little companion of old had
done, and drew him to a chair at her side.
Then she motioned toward the stage, and
he turned to look.
There, too, all was in gloom; but as the
heavy curtain now rolled up q solitary
figure could be seen in the foreground
enyeloped in long, dark cloak, from
which it proceeded to disrobe itself Al
this Julius was filled with utter astonish-
ment, for, dimly seen as all was, he rec
ogniZed at glance, under the guise of a
young man i'll a fantastic and somewhat
funeral EliZabethan costume, the form
the familiar attitude, the gesture of the
young Julius Roy of other days, who
was to fire London and the whole world
with his song. The scene in which his
counterfeit presentment thus appeared
was laid before wide and lofty gateway
whose massive portals were closed, and
to these he advanced as If to enter. With
this, the sense of an unknown fate
whose secret the gates kept, SO grew
upon julius where he sat watching his
stage shadow that he forgot he was not
alone, and, stepping from his seat sank
on his knees at the balustrade, and gazed
down with intense curiosity on the stage
below.
In the phantasmagoria that ensued il
would need the lost pen of Roy himself
to tell all that passed, dimly set forth,
dimly seen, as in some ballet of shadows
In this ghostly play the scene was always
the same at the dark gateway, and the
chief actor was always the phantom OF
Julius Roy. This shadowy protagonisi
returned again and again in different dis
guises to seek entrance at the gates, but
always in vain, Meanwhile dim troops
of other figures, types Of comedy and
tragedy fantastically mingled, passed
continually to and fro. AT last, return
ing in yet another, a sorry old mans dis
guise, the baffied hero made last at
tempt to force his way in, and, falling
sank back, reeled and fell to the ground
lying there darker blot upon the stage
before the dark gates.
Then, greatly disturbed at this omin-
Gus conclusion, julius all at once remem-
bered Silvia, and how in his absorption
in the play he had neglected her. But
she was no longer in her place, and look
ing hastily around, he saw that the door
leading from the balcony was open. Al
once he hurried through it into the corri-
dor, while an excitement that he could
not at all control seized his pulses; fol-
this untimely disappearance ten times
enhanced the fateful impression of the
play. Traversing the corridor rapidly be
came at it's end to a steep and narrow
staircase, and, plunging down this incon.
tinently in his haste, so burst open
little door at his feet-to find himself
much to his confusion. upon the stage o.
the theater itself. Here, pausing, as he
| looked around at its empty stretch o.
; dusty boards, and at the familiar stacks
of scenery lying in disorder at the wings
it was moment before he noticed tha
the gateway, before which the late pre-
sentiment of his ill-fated other self hac
taken place, was still standing in The
background, though the PROSTATE figure
was gone. Crossing to 1t, he was re
minded as he vent, of the time when GER
tain plays of his writing, all variations O.
the same theme, were being much re-