The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1895-06-14
IooNT1NUED.l
CHAPTER Ii.

SOOl 1IlCASJ bIC AOoo VI NAO y
more accustomed to lift barrels of beer
with his brawny arm than to figure as
captain of the Phantom, pulled around
the slippery corner of the CLASSY water
way. "I'll take the oars i'll minute
as soon as l put in this carmine. Heav-
ems, [ shall enlarge this sketch for the
academy next year if get out of that
house alive tomorrow morning-and
now ghost or Il goner.
+ confess l looked with some satisfac-
ton at my afternoons work. | had
sketched in tho great grewsome gables
from an angle whence they looked across
the salt meadow land with a peculiar
solemnity. 1t was as if last reach up
ward with those long gray lichen cover
ed fingers in final appeal from some
horror that was coming, deathward
doom, following fast with hands that
clutched and drew down the majesty
and might of the long ago. The round
eye of window stared helplessly, va
cantIy, across the desolations of land and
the encrimsoaed sky. Along the long
canal the great shadow on the sinking
house fell and was sucked down into
the red depths of ooze.
/ ran my boat up into the stain, gath
cred my traps together and jumped
ashore.
''Pull round for me at sunrise tomor-
row morning." said, with laugh, as
mine host shook his head disappearing
ly, glancing at the lean trees that lis
tened and at the following footsteps of
the leaves that rustled along the roof,
mixing and mingling with the phan-
tom fingers of the grasses. 'I'll have a
story to tell you perhaps tomorrow
night whose lghtest word will harrow
up thy soul and freeze thy old bloodP !"
But the Denmark matter was lost
upon mine host, who only shook his
head again as he pulled away through
tho creeping twilight.
'Whither wilt thou lead me, per-
turbed spirit?'' I half muttered to my
self as / stood undor the circumferent
shadows of tho three fir trees and looked
up into the silence. 1t was curious
sensation to have your hand upon a
lock that 10 fingers had turned for a
century. The key that l had had fitted
by an honest boil hanger from the town
grated unpleasantly as twisted it with
no little effort III the rusted, blackened
lock. I listened as / heard the sound
distinctly sweep along some vacancy ill.,
side the mansion. The vine around the
doorway trembled. The sun red dripped
from leaf to leaf along its arm and soaked
the dank fringe under the trees. Alone
the boom of the sea called.
believe / waited three solid minutes.
81 will ring the rusty old bell and
tell the ghouls am coming" said
aloud with respectable cheerfulness.
But my voice followed along the wake
of the walking echoes, and it was sud-
denly sound where it had all been ST.
lence, the bell peal repeating its startled
pulse AS suddenly l found the door
opened. Opened; not open. Did open
it? By heaven, cannot tell you to this
day if did, but stood before the gray
vista of hall and looked in.
have hunted the royal tiger with
his royal majesty, the rajah of B.,
narrowly escaping his jaws, 1 have
stood my ground before the fangs of
| crocodiles and critics in Liberia and
London, but swear nothing ever took
such hold of me as the glimpse of that
central staircase peopled with its shad.
ow sweep of the vital past. The misty,
impalpable presence seemed to form
and fade and form again and to grow
as I stood spellbound at the old thres-
| hold and looked.
Itwas indeed an unusual interior and
feast Of fat things for the artist. But
I had come to its mysteries and mag
| Influences for feast of lean things
| ghosts and bones and SO forth. So 1t
would not do to daily too long over the
aesthetics. And yet l did daily, with the
artists delight, and looked and looked,
still wisely holding the door open with
my hand.
From either side of the lone staircase
rooms led off. The doors were open of
three of the vast apartments. Before
the fourth, some distance beyond the
stairway, great tapestry hung.
| 1t is always the unknown that beck
ons, the unattained that tempts. lock-
ed the door cautiously. The key turned
with huge grating noise, which the
echoes repeated and held. l heard the
sigh along the vine outside as the wind
went by. 1t was not SO much sigh as a
| wall of something lost, lament of O
voice once lovely, but mingled forever
with the octaves of an abyss.
was alone with my venture.
To go forward and lift that tapestry
was the first vigorous thing to do. But
| ! did not do it vigorously. 1t hung so
| perfectly still in the dead air. But was
! it still? Was not that curtain breathing
back and forth in some mysterious en-
| compassment? And the atmosphere
within? believe / finally marched up
to it and took hold of it with the muscle
| of mustang.
| And within?
The great hall of the ancient feast
ing, the groined roof, the oarven rafters,
just as mine host had described them
from the writings left by the mayor S
own hand century ago, the gilt shot
tapestries fading-a famished splendor.
The mirrors cleaned wickedly-yea,
wickedly, with sharp Chances of CLEAN
beneath the ancient dust, gray dust of
the long lapses of 100 years. felt a
strange chill pass over me like breath.
l believe turned and looked to see that
gray dust arise in phantom form, gath
CT and shape itself and move toward
me.
The ancient suits of armor-did eyes
look and look through those apertures?