Pawtucket tribune. (Pawtucket, R.I.) 1890-189?, 1892-02-08
A DREAM FACE.

At Q few minutes after 12 on that night,
which preceded the morning OF Feb. 2,
1881, the streets Of New York were de-
serted, and nothing was audible except
the fail Of water, steady and monotonous.
II was then that fell asleep, sitting In
my chair, and the book that had been
reading-a fanciful work on psychological
phenomena--dropped to the floor. Twas
alone in my room-the fourth floor, front,
OF a lodging house on Twenty-third street
I remember relapsing into passive state,
permitting my head 70 fall backward,
allowing myself TO fancy that the gaslight
had expanded until it fnled my vision and
finally closing my eyes. When my mind
was again the receptacle OF impressions,
10 was in what, for want of any other
term, I must call dream.
! seemed TO be In Paris. I had gotten
there in dream fashion, without knowing
how. What evidence informed me that
the place was Paris cannot say.
had never yet been abroad. yet OF my
locale was mentally convinced. 1t was
night, IL was raining, and was solitary
in O lonely street. Houses frowned on
both sides OF the way. The sky was
black, and there was no living being in
sight 1 did not seem to have physical
being; only consciousness and tho sense
OF sight and vague terror. seemed to
be erouching somewhere, as If to avoid
the sensation Of presence behind me.
did not realize the power to act or move;
only 10 perceive.
Some yards away gaslight she'd a
spectral yellow glow upon the wet pave
ment. A rod or so distant its rays feebly
surrendered to the darkness. concen-
tyated my gaze upon this illumined space.
10 was light In darkness, but It was
mournful. In the solitude II held my
eyes as IL 1t were something Of fascina-
tion.
/ do not know how long my dream re.
manned, as II were, stationary; how long
10 left me crouching In the shadow, watch
ing the Pickering gaslight.
Suddenly was not alone. Some one
had entered the circle Of light. A man,
tall, muffied, hurrying His hat was
pulled down over his eyes, his topcoat
collar turned up to his ears. He was we'll
dressed. never clearly saw his face.
There was q rustling sound In the d.
rection opposite to that from which this
pedestrian came. Another figure became
visible. The two persons within the cir
Gle OF light were approaching each other.
The second conner was woman. She
wore heavy cloak and veil. She moved
rapidly. The two figures met under the
gaslight. They were face to face.
The woman stopped. The man started
he stood still. The woman drew her hand
from its shelter beneath her cloak. Some
thing was clasped In her fingers--some-
thing small, that glistened in the yellow
gasliRht. There was a fash of fire, a
sharp report, and smoke rose In the air.
The man lay on the pavement, rain wet
ting his face, tiny red stream running
from his breast. The dim light enwrapped
his PROSTATE body In sort Of mist.
The woman stood looking down at him,
the revolver still smoking In her hand.
She raised her veil and saw her face.
It was such striking face, so beauti-
full, 30 pale and Mortified, that shall ever
be able to recall 1t at will, Us II appeared
TO my vision then.
A few seconds passed. Then all be-
came dim, the picture faded, first the
dark ~tseet, then the dead body, the gas
light last of all.
Rising above the pistol smoke, white
against the night, her facet
came TO myself-I dare not say
understanding. II was still raining
without, and the clocks of New York
were striking one. AL through the night,
a. tried TO sleep, was haunted by o
woman's face, which stood before mo In
bold, regular outlines, perfectly still.
Six months after that night was look
ing over some back numbers Of Partisan
newspapers, when my eyes fell by chance
on few lines relating that early on that
morning an unknown man, probably
English or American, had been found
dead, In q street whose name have
strangely forgotten, shot in the heart with
q pistol bullet.
Hooked at the date of the paper. It was
Feb. 2, 1881.
A curious coincidence, thought to my
self. But the time has come whom coin
eidences no longer startlc.
"There she is, see-with the orange
eolored tights"
The orchestra struck up lively, elusive
air, as she danced to the front of the
stage. She sang her ballad in light but
pleasing voice. There was daintiness In
her smile, q refined grace In her move
ments, that caught the attention even Of
the blase.
I had dropped in to see an act of the
e.
10y, journalistic friend of mine, was
among the throng Of lobby loungers wait
ing for the curtain TO rise on the second
act. ,. He had been entertaining me with
an account of the charms of o newcomer
70 New York, an English girl, who played
the part OF q courier. IL was she OF the
orange colored tights.
"Rather pretty: like her style" said,
Joining In the applause that demanded o
repetition Of her number.
"Prettyi Is that allr' demonstrated
Chesley. "Look closer. and you'll call
her beauty"
She was smiling and bowing. and pre-
pairing to sing again. The lights were
lowered, and tho glare OF the calcium was
tarned full upon her.
"Say, old man, do you know IL seems
20 me, don't know why or how, but, By
Jovei she reminds me of some one. Who
Is she, anyhow
1.-THE programme calls her Genevieve
Royal" replied Cheslcy; ''she's really
Louise Evan. I knew her In London"
ITO be sure. You know everybody.
How old is shef'
"About 80. She's charming woman
on the stage"
"Ive no doubt. She looks II Just now.
ls she marriedr'
"No. There used to be rumor that
she was somebody or others wife, but 1
fancy Il was only rumor."
~ should like TO meet her"
Nothing easier. Come with me after
the play. I'm to meet her at her rooms. T"