Waterbury evening Democrat., 1894-05-29
eorrRroHr BY AMERICAN PRESS ASSOCIATIONS. 'ss-
CHAPTER XIV.



More than once in the course of this
history it has been mentioned that the
windows of the artists chambers looked
out upon river. In truth, it was almost
impossible to be anywhere in maxey' S
rooms and escape its presence. He had
chosen his suit for the free, open pros
pect it afforded, and he had sketched and
painted landscape from this lofty situ-
alton a dozen times. 1t mattered not III
what part of the house one was, there
was always something to remind him of
the river.
The sweeping curve made by the
stream just above the center of the city
broadened the otherwise narrow belt of
water into lakelike cxpanse and opened
a vista of miles to the eye. Over this
wide surface the wind came and went
unopposed- 1t was ever rattling at the
windows Of the artist S rooms. To awake
of a winters night and hear the uneasy
ghost tapping with his chill hand for
admission was to be reminded of the icy
water flowing steadily with the tide
down between the great stone walls In
the darkness.
The tide rose and fell in the river for
miles above the city. In tho dead of
winter it lifted the solid white surface,
like a marble floor, through 10 feet
twice a dav. After thaw, when the
ice broke Up, even in Maxey's rooms,
could be heard the great blocks grind
ing against the stones. These floating
masses driftcd variousiy, as the tide ran
back up the stream, to crowd the mar
row space between the banks above the
sweeping curve or down beneath the
bridges and between the hulls of innu-
merable vessels out to sea. Only in the
space contiguous to the house in Balla-
voine place they remained stationary,
for Just here a CONFORMATION in the wall
gave whirling motion-to the water.
The floating block that drifted too near
this spot was inevitably drawn in, and
once in there it staid, pounded up and
down, up and down against the mason
~ and the decaying piles till it was
melted quite away.
1t was a dark and mysterious recess,
this little section of the river beneath
the artists windows. Somehow the
building stood about it in such way as
to cut off the sunlight, except perchance
at high noon. 1t was always gloomy
close to the wall Even when the river
sparkled brightest in the smiling sum-
mer days, just in here there was drea-
~ spot. Here the water swirled and did
not dance in little waves. Here, too,
had once been the end of wharf or
wooden structure of some kind. A few
of the venerable timbers yet-remained
Jol hot
The Rackened ends, projecting above
the surface, deepened the somber and
forlorn effect.
The house i'll which Maxey lived did
not rise directly from the river wall. 1t
stood back and left little space-a
mean and parsimonious space-utilized
only by housewives for the hanging out
of clothes. = high picketed fence pre-
vented the contiguity of the river from
being dangerous.
Occasionally the janitor of the build
ing, who was supposed to have protect
ing eye for all that appertaincd to it,
emerged from the basement where he
lived into the yard to cast about him a
rcaSsuring glance. One morning in De-
cemher, when he came, a trif1ing altera-
ton in the familiar prospect caught his
attention and aroused his wonder. The
upper ends Of two pickets in the high
fence were broken short off near the top.
One of the several pieces lay in the snow
at the bottom of the fence; the other
still hung by silver from its place. The
janitOr shook the woodwork, and his
mystiticatiOn was increased when he
found that the two broken pickets were
loose. This was such an inexplicable