The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1891-04-30

| III IEOpEA-iAldL SOlIJC yOOt
soul had crept in TO shelter from the
rain by the kitchen fire. Well. there
was not a soul near the place. l lock
ed up carefully that night when
went back to the inn. and in the solace
OF "A glass of grog and a pipe before |
| went TO bed | almost persuaded my
| self there was nothing in ii. In the
| morning | had really forgotten it,
fancy but when | got back 10 the
studio a curious thing happened. Right
across the face in my picture We're Il
couple of brush-marks, such as You
| might make if you were trying the
tooth of a canvas. completely spelling
| my work of the day before. | called
up Annie aud her grandmother, and
! accused them of playing tricks. They
were indignant at the idea, aud finally
| bad 10 apologize Tor my suspicious.
| We searched the house together, but
| could find no means by which any one
/ could have entered, and at last | was
obliged 10 conclude that | must have
| done the damage myself when | let
| my brushes fall. In few DAYS. how
ever, it became impossible to explain
| the thing by this or any other natural
! iiaCtibS. constantly NY Cslilh dStS W tl u
| tampercd with. and | grew to have the
feeling that after twilight | was never
| alone in the room; that faint sigh.
which had so startled me at first, |
came to listen for and expect. aud |
began ut last TO clothe it with Il per-
! sonality. and to wish had some means
OF comforting the poor soul who ha |
no other language in which to express
despair. | did not think it was she
who had defaced my canvas, however,
and | took TO carrying my works back
with me at night to the inn, where they
were secure from interference.
Il suppose the thing would have
ended there but for IN accident. There
was a race meeting in the town and the
Ship was invaded by Il low set Of fell
lows, who got drunk and made beasts
of themselves generally, The place
became unbearable and | determined
to camp in the studio until they cleared
out. | made up biz fire. got my old
woman to leave me some hot water in
the kettle. and with help of rug and
pillow stuffed into the back of NV
chair | made myself tolerably COM
Portable for the night. How long l
slept l don't know. | awoke sudden
ly, not as one does in bed, with
drowsy feeling of relief that it is too
early to get up. but with every sense
on the alert. and curious impression
that something unusual was happen
ing. The fire was still bright, and
made Il glow on the opposite wall, but
what made the room SO light was the
moon shining in through the square
window in the roof. | could see
everything III the room quite plainly,
but | seemed oppressed by some
weight that made me pOwerless to
move. / sat there staring at what
happened rs helpless as if | had been
bound. My painting things were just
as | had left them; my canvas, on
which | had sketched in head, on the
easel and close by on a STOOL paints,
brushes, and pallet. They had been
there, that is to say, for there stood in
front of the easel, with his back to me.
tall man, with a stoop in his should
erS and dark hair; he had my pallet
in his hand, and he was painting with
Il sort of nervous intensity that it
thrilled one TO see. | looked to see
what he was painting, for he kept
gIancing over toward the patch in the
moonlight; but ut first | could see
nothing. Then | heard that little
gentle sigh, but not, it seemed to me-
so utterly weary and heartbroken as
formerly; it was Il sigh almost of con-
tent. And as pondered on this my
eyes seemed to become more ac-
customed to the light. and there in the
moonlight, on the very chair in which
Annie had sat was 4 woman, leaning
slightly forward, Young. beautiful, and
very paie-but YOU have seen the
picture. | looked at her more than at
him, only @lancing now and then to
see how the work went on. As |
watched her the face changed, and the
sOrrowful, worn look gave place to
kind of wondering happiness-hc has
not quite got it in the picture; it was
rs if the feeling were SO intense it
made a kind of radiance round her.
| don't know how long | watched. At
last sound made me turn and look
at the painter: he had thrown down
the pallet and brushes. and was stand
ing looking at his work; then he turned
slowly and held out his hands with a
supplicating gesture. She had risen,
too. and came step forward with a
wonderful light in her eyes, and just
as she put her hands in his n cloud
crossed the neon and blOtted out the
figures from my sight. When it passed,
the patch of moonlight was empty,
and there was only the painted head
and the pallet lying on the floor to
convince me | had not been dreaming.
After that | must have fallen asleep,
for it was broad daylight when | next
remembered anything, and heard the
welcome and familiar sound of my old
W nan preparing my breakfast. The
smell of frying pilchards was refresh
ingly mundane, aud got up stiff and
sore from my uneasy couch, prepared
to tind that my phantoms of the night
before had been nothing but dream.
No; there was the picture, just as you
see it. and on the lloor were the pallet
and brushes picked them up aud
looked curiouslv at them. If You'll
believe me, could never make up my
mind to clean the paint off that pallet,
and it hangs there just as that fellow
left 1t.
We sat silent for some minutes when
Graves had done. | confess the story
impressed me good deal and,
glancing up, | could see that QuiIler
was strangely moved.
And did you never have aay ex-
PLANTATION of the thinge" said at last.
No said Graves. Il never had
any explanation, and | don't suppose
| ever shall"
Quiler had risen and stood near the
fire.
Il think l can give it," he said.
knocking the ashes out of his pipe.
Graves stared at him; no one spoke,
and he went on rs if uuwillingly.
That must have been brakes
cottage you had; he was here before
your time-I dare say you never heard
of him. He lived there with his wife
and that's her portrait"
Graves stare of surprise became
more profound, and Teddy and
in,l-aI an IN randar 0uillar