The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1894-06-12

No, Mr. Maxey, l was listening" ]
Listening? For what?'
For the wind. Have you never mo-
ticed how queerly it knocks at the win
dow frames sometimes? This is one Of
the days. When i am working here
alone, l often notice it, and however
much l hear it it never fails to startIe
me. -
''What, the rattle?'
"The rap. There is not so much sud-
denness i'll the rattle. That is not it, for
when that happens you think of the
wind. 1t is as if the wind did it, but il
is not SO today. 1t is not as if the wind
did it at all. There is silence, and then
comes sudden dull blow At first I
Thought somebody must be throwing
something against the pane. but found
after time that it was only move
ment of the window frame. Isn't it curl.
ousf''
Very. 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 We're still Therei
Was not that it?"
Il did not hear it then. I was listen
ing to you, Mr.. Maxey, Listen again,
and it will come l wish l were not
foolish enough to be afraid of it, Harkl''
In the silence that ensued they could
hear each other breathing. Perhaps ID
was nervousness, but Maxey felt strange
ly excited, A low knocking-not the
knocking they We're waiting for-came
to their ears through the closed door.
How very oddl" 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 it is Some beggar doubt
less lmpecuniousncss 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
look of speechless surprise. 1t was
Mr.. Dye. There were the woebegons
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.
"Your' was Maxey's only utterance.
81, sirn' said the somber voice Par
don me if / venture to intrude my ESl-
seemly presence upon you thus abruptly
without having prepared you previously
by timely warning
Come in, I" said Maxey.
Mr.. Dye hesitated
Pardon me if ! am constrained to
ask an impertinent question. Are you
alone?''
i am not alone in the house. No"
but desire to sec only you, no one
else. have no wish to meet the young
lady who once bore my nsme. 1t 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 a depressing in
fluence? Maxey certainly felt nn 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 bis
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 q
tomb: