Hot Springs weekly star. (Hot Springs, S.D.) 1892-1917, 1894-08-10
THE GHOST Of SAINTGERY'
Or, Can a Brave Man Be Afraid? Written for
This Paper. BY Guy de Maupassant.
CHAPTER discontinued.

CHAPTER I~I.-Contlnued.
1t took e week OF so for me to recover !
my ha )itual cOlnpo ,ure of body and
III nd, and. happily for me, my regi.
lnent was shortly after this ordere cd to
1A.giers. l distru-ted Roger, and there
fore made up my mind that l would
not Turn the letters Ovec to him, but I
wrOt him q few lines telling him of
my sudden departure IRON ROuen, and
mixing him to write to Saint-Gery and
say that | would hold tho letters sub
.ect to his orders, but would in no a
deliver them mp to any one else, ex> ept
upon his written authorization.
wa absent from Franco for several
through my goods and chattels, l would
sone upsn : aint-Gcry's letters, and let
me- assur. you, my friends. that a
sight of t en- was always quite enough
20 send u cold shiver down my lack.
L,Mn NV return from Alglers my
health wa; SO impaired by African
fAycr that | determined to resign from
the army and make q tour through the
new world. For many years my heart
had ycarned for its vast rivers, its cnd-
&c $ ,rai les and PAM Us and its grand
mountain chnins. the Rockies and An
DIES. ard ii was while ] vas getting
ready for this extended trip that 1
again came upon the Saint-Ger letters
wm c packing away some books and
sOavcni = that | wished t, leave in
J aris. by Il strange cIinciden Q, that
very day i met another college chum
dead, that ne had disappeared most
mvsterio :slv from houon. and that
after tho lapse of several q the
ant aoritic, had accidentally core upon
pro II which convinced them that he
mad committed suicide.
This p:ec: II news impressed me
deeply, and rs / walked Lack to my
apartments the scores of that terrible
night of satf. ring came up to mo in
strange relief. 1 reccl'cctcd very
thing to the smallest degree, although
1T was nearly lei years since it had
happen d. and l was seized with an IT.
sesistible inclination to open the pack
ages and real the letters.
What h1rm:" thought l. "Saint-
Gerry was the last of his racc. There
is n ono to whom l can ever deliver
tn. m. Elthe: / must destroy them
without reading them, FIR in the case
of my death the letters would fall into
other hands, and might blacken his
memory by making him out q sell. con-
fessed murderer, or l may read them
tefcee destr ying them, and thus po.-
.ihv clear up tho awful mystery cling
ing about Chateau Saint-Gery. was
sure Of my power to keep any terrible
secret that might BIO disclosed by tho
letters.
deliberated o rseyeral hours, work.
ing myself up into such Estate of mind
that every rustic Of the window cur
'kains, every creak in the floor. every
crackle of the fire made me start like
q hunted criminal at the sound of a
band on the door knob. At last l
summoned up resolution enough to
break the seals, and rs l did so the
bells in a neighboring church tower
rang out t e hour OF midnight. 1t was
another strange coincidence, and as ]
listened to the solemn tones, my flesh
began to creap, my hair stiffened, a
cold sweat beaded my forehead, the
old fear had come back upon me; 1 was
ally the fit passed off, and 1 was able to
proceed with the reading OF tho let
ters. They were me and all love let
tiers addressed by Saint Gerry TO
-Aurore." They were wildly, almost
temp estuously, passionate, and
than yer was l convinced that Saint
Gery's reason had always been more or
less untixed. In every letter there
was some reference to Aurore's glori-
Gus head of hair. and 1 now felt sure
that | had not seer Aurore herself,
but her spirit. that she had been foully
murdered by Saint-Gery in an excess
OF rage and jealousy. Upon unsealing
the third package. I found q heavy
tress of golden hair at least five feet
In length. 1t had been cut from
Aurore 8 head by Saint-Gery, for that
fact was noted in his handwriting, Civ
Ing even the hour, day and dale. A
comparison with it Of the few hairs
that had chung to the buttons and gold
la e of my coat on that fearful night
seemed to confirm one of my strongest
beliefs that the spirits of the dead un-
der certain conditions have the power
of naturalization when they walk the
earth.
Well. you will not be surprised when
tell you that | didn't destroy tn. SO
letters, that an intense desire to ferret
out this mystery seized upon me, and
Chat l firmly resolved upon my return
from the new world to set aDout tho
task, and if possible, to learn the ex-
act fate Of the beautiful Aurore. You
know what happened. In Rio I met a
lady, loved her, married her and set
1<Cu ooMA elcIo. IL WAS IW0uty years
before I was destined to ses France
again. l was then an old man, not in
very robust health-a childless Wild
over. 1 had come home to die, but
the sight of old friends and native land
gave me a c lease of life, and ii
seemed to me rs if l began life all over
again. was passionately fond OF
hunting. and one autumn about ten
years ago while so engaged in the
northeast of Flance, 1 was overtaken
by a terrific storm. I urged my guide
to find a shelter as speedily as posi-.
BILE. He assured me that there wa
not a roof within four miles of us, and
scarcely were the words put of his
mouth before l caught sight of what
seemed to me to be a charcoal burner's
cot on the edge of the forest about hall
amile distant.
Nay, my lord, not there" ex.
claimed the man with gesture q
dread. at might mean death to us
both"
Death to us both?:" 1 echoed.
"Yes." returned the man. "the cot /