Democratic Northwest and Henry County news. [volume] (Napoleon, O. [Ohio]) 1894-1905, 1894-08-23
CHAPTER XIV.
THE KNOCKING.

bedueu DClOTc Nn easel near tno w1nQOw
while Maxey was looking over her shoul-
der, apparently ut the sketch. She was
not working. Hor hands lay listlessly in
her lap, and hrr eyes were fixed ON the
gray sky above ,le river.
"Are you studying the effect?" the
artist qucricd, with smile.
"No, Mr.. Maxoy, was listening"
Listening? For what?"
"For the wind. Have you never no
ticed how quoerly it knocks at the win
dow frames sometimes? This is one of
the days When ! am working here
alone, l often notice it, and however
much hear it it never fails to startle
me-"
"What, the rattle?"
1.-THE rap. There is not so much sud-
denness in the rattle. That is not it, for
when that happens you think of the
wind. 1t is as if the wind did it, but it
is not SO today. 1t is not as if the wind
did it at all. There is silence, and then
comes a sudden dull blow At first l
thought somebody must be throwing
something against the pane, but found
after a timo that it was only a move
ment Of the window frame. Isn't it curl
ous?"
Every. You notice these little things,
Annette. Do you know, have worked
in this room alone for months, and for
my part l never noticed whether tho
windows ratified Or were still Therel
Was not that it?'
81 did not hear it then. I was listen
ing to you, Mr.. Maxey. Listen again,
and it will Come. l wish 1 were not
foolish enough to be afraid of it. Hark"
In the silence that ensued they could
hear each other breathing. Perhaps it
was nervousness, but Maxey felt strange
ly excited. A low knocking-not the
knocking they were waiting for-came
TO their ears through the closed door.
How very oddp' exclaimed Maxey.
'That was not the touch Of a ghostly
zephyr, but the substantial rap of some-
body tangible who wants to get in"
''1t must be a timid person who would
knock so low"
Probably 1t is. Some beggar doubt
less. Impecuniousness is occasionally
timid. Don't disturb yourself, An
nette."
Maxey stepped into the vestibule and
opened the outer door. He regarded the
man who had summoned him there with
a look of speechless surprise. 1t was
Mr.. Dye. There were the woebegone
beaver, the shiny, threadbare coat the
faded blue eyes, the long hair falling
over the ears the smooth face with its
expression Of hapless melancholy and all
that went to make up the peculiar group
of mental impressions which Maxey had
learned since the first meeting, now
weeks ago, to associate with the name
Leander Dye.
"YouP' was Maxey's only utterance.
IT, sir!" said the somber voice. "Par-
don me if venture to intrude my un-
seemly presence upon you thus abruptly
without having prepared you previously
by timely warning"
"Come in," said Maxey.
Mr.. Dye hesitated.
pardon me if I am constrained to
ask an impertinent question. Are you
alone?"
II am not alone in the house. No."
''But desire to see only you, no one
else. / have no wish to meet the young
lady who once bore my name. It would
| be painful for US both"
"You shall see me alone" "said Max
ey. "Come in"
The artist ushered Mr.. Dye into the
| parlor and closed the door. Was it that
the gloomy presence of the melancholy
man communicated depressing in
fluence? Maxey certainly felt an unrea-
| sonable dread-a sort of sinking at the
heart-as the door closed and he stood
there alone with his visitor.
Mr.. Dye stood with his hat in his
hand and avoided Maxey's eyes. He
never lifted his glance from the floor.
The artist noticed that he was more sal
low and pallid than when he had seen
him first; that there was shakiness in
his whole frame, palsied tremble in
his hands He began at once, and his
voice was like one speaking out of a
tomb
"Sir, your ears are exceedingly
good"-
"Indeedp'
''Or you would not have heard my
knock. l knocked very softly, as I have
knocked at your door so many times and
you did not hear. I hoped, and hoped in
vain, that you would again let me go
away unheeded as before. "
II don't comprehend You, sir. Have
you been here before?"
'Sir, I have been here many times
before, knocking at your door so softly
that you might have mistaken the sound
for the wind or the rattle of rat behind
the woodwork. :"
Maxey recoiled.
care you insane?"
"No, nor' said Mr.. Dye quickly. "It
is not insanity. 1t is not even whim-
sical. 1t is, on the contrary, strictly log
ical. Sir, You have heard it said that a
man cannot serve two masters. I have
sometimes tried. That was my trouble.
One forced me to come and tell you
something that knew would be unwel-
come to you. What shall call that one?
Conscience-remorse? The other caused
me to desire that you should not receive
me, but allow me to go away unheeded.
Shall I call that other sympathy and
regard for yourself or for somebody in
whom you are interested Never mind;
1t is not to the point now. Your ears
were better than I thought they were
and you did hear me. I am here. Sir,
why did you not take my advice and
have me arrested? lam aheartless, mis-
cradle wretch" =.
| Theatrical air or not, this last SEN
tence came out with sincerity and a
force that startled the artist. The trem.
bling in the limbs increased: the somber