Brookings register. (Brookings, S.D.) 1890-1894, 1894-02-02
LOCKED IN.
Was it a dream?

was IL u urSdInE
As / opened my eyes strange spec
tacle presented itself. In front of me
was a scaffold supporting a guillotine
A man was pinioned, with his neck
resting on the block, the tall execution
or standing ready to pull the cord and
iberate the shining blade that hung
aloft. Around were grouped a priest
and state officials dressed in French cos
tunes of the last century. And the
pale moon shed its somber light over
all. In moment I recollected that l
must be in the chamber of horrors of
Paul's waxwork exhibition.
Twas spending week in town, sight
seeing. The preceding day had been
very fatiguing one, but had promised
myself an evening at the waxworks,
and had made arrangements for every
other night during my short stay, so
went.
There is nothing so firing as an ex-
hibition, no matter what its character
may be, and after walking up and down
long galleries and climbing and de-
scending stairs for sevearl hours | was
completely dead beat" Consequently,
when / found a large block of wood
an executioner's block, have since as
certained it to have benin a seclud-
ed corner of the chamber of horrors, !
aat down to rest.
must have Immediately fallen
asleep and escaped the notice of the at
tendants when they closed the building
for the night. When | awoke, the
chamber was as still as tomb, and
bright moonlight, streaming in through
the tall window, gave the place weird
and unearthly appearance as it fell on
the hideous throng of the worlds great
criminals.
rose from my seat and glanced
around. am not a superstitious man,
nor am l particularly nervous, but a
queer sensation crept over me. Perhaps
the night air was chilly. Perhaps l
had taken cold. must get out of the
place somehow.
The moon was now hidden behind
bank of clouds, and the place became
quite dark. I stretched out my hand,
and it touched something. Ugh! Cold,
like the flesh of a dead man! 1t was
the face of one of that murderous crew.
What fool wasl They were only
wax figures. That was all, of course. l
tried to laugh at my absurd situation,
but the attempt was failure and left
me more uncomfortable than ever.
Perhaps they were smiling at me in the
darkness. Absurd! How could wax fig
ures smile?
And yet suppose that the spirits of
these evil men and women haunted their
counterfeit presentments. Living GRIM
inals, it was said, could not resist re-
turning to the scenes of their crimes,
and these mute statues were clothed in
the very garments in which the crimes
had been conmitted-garments from
which the guilty stains had never been
washed.
What was that?
had taken hold of something made
Of cold metal. Horror! felt it to be
one of the knives with which murder
had been committed. was behaving
like an idiot. I knew it, and l told
myself 80. But it was no use. could
AOb bcip WiSulbS L "CIc any WlSE6 else.
A vault or crypt would be cheerful
compared with this horrible place. The
very air seemed to smell of crime.
crept forward until l came to some
steps. Perhaps this was the way out.
I went up and reached out into the
darkness.
A hand! A foot! A body kneeling!
Great heavens! l had ascended the
scaffold--was the one solitary living
being present at that awful mute mum
merry going on in the darkness of the
night"
This sort of thing leads to Madness"
I told myself, as l crawled backward
down the stairs. But what was to be
done? / must get out somehow, or my
nerves would not stand the strain.
Never until now had realized how
weak ones intellect really is. If any
body had told me few hours before