The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1892-05-22
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missal went his way with uplifted heart,
| feeling himself indeed to BE- the chosen Of
Pharaoh. Hetheridge stayed behind to
endure his own torments as he might. He
| dived deep into the papers which mad been
| laid before him, aud for the first time in
his life felt business wholly without value
as an antidote TO thought. The sultry heat
| OF the day oppressed him though he sat
with open windows and even on the lawn
which sloped from his walls to the waters
of Storytelling Thames, the air seemed
confined and close. The clouds had built
up everywhere, an under-root of doleful
gray. There were occasional uneasy rum
blings Of thunder, and now and again a
flash of harmless summer lightning pulsated
swiftly across the clouded landscape
Whether he strove in vain to grasp the
meaning Of the business papers, or read
the money column OF the Times, or wan
dered idly on the lawn. or sat at meals, it
was all one. The changeless placid phantom
chung close TO his shoulder, and every pass
ing hour seemed TO make its presence more
and more intolerable.
He drank heavily at dinner, trusting to
obscure his thoughts.
al must keep sober till have once seen
Jessamer, ~ he thought, land then 1 must
drown everything"
The night was prematurely dark. and
swift gusts of wind were rising. They
dashed the trees which stood upon the lawn
into means of torment, which were sue
ceeded by long pauses Of brooding silence,
and they laid unseen hands on door and
easement, and mourned about the house as
if resentful Of extrusion.
" If anybody should call" he said, as he
rose from the dinner table, II shall he in my
own room. Put out the brandy and soda
there, light the lamp, and leave out some
cigars"
The man obeyed him and left him alone.
A great blast surged up against the house
and set his torn nerves qulvering with a
supersttious terror at its voices. He
walked to his own room through the shad~
ows Of the hall, and as he did so, for the
first time, his phantom seemed to undergo a
change. Eye and hand both menaced him,
and in sudden access Of terror he fairly
sprang into the apartment and slammed the
door behind him. At that instant the bell
rang, and he heard voices in the hail.
"Here at last" he thought, thank God,
it is Jessamer.
Another gust OF wind, fiercer than any of
its precursors, burst open the French win
dowS, and the light in the lamp fiickered
and went out. A vivid fash Of lightning
illumined lawn and river and sky for a sim
gle instant, and then the jaws Of darkness
did devour it up.
A tremendous crash of thunder followed,
and deluge Of sudden rain came swishing
into the room. He struggled with the win
dows in the darkness, forced them back and
secured them. He CROPPED his way to the
table and felt for box of wax vesta which
he remembered to have seen there. Having
found It he struck light and removed the
shade and the heated lamp glass, saving his
fingers from contact with it by using his
handkerchief. rellt the lamp, replaced the
glass and shade, and slowly turned up the
light
For mere instant he had forgotten his
phantom terror, but when he raised his
head he saw it standing there In flesh and
blood, before him. feature for feature. hue
for hue, from head to foot the same. He
stared with haggard eyes and the appari-
ton came forward. Its lips moved aud it
spoke.
MY name is George Redwood"
One unimaginable shock Of horror struck
him, and he fell upon his face.