The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1895-12-09

or the moment, murmured wild word,
i'm praise OF her beauty, while the cal
wheeled swiftly along through a black
ness that was broken every now ans
then by the passing flash Of lamp, &
Hash that showed him for the SECOND
more distinctly the mouth and eye,
and the smile of his companion. L
was like drive in a dream, and Anne.
was never afterwards able to piece to.
gether the threads of that bewilderinf
conversation. Suddenly the cab swung
to the left and came to a stop. Ames
saw from the expression of the wo-
mans face that they had reached theil
destination.
He leaped out Of the cab and assisted
his companion to alight. She instantly
rap up short flight of steps and put a
key into a latch. AS he turned from
watching her movements he saw that
the cab had left them, and was driving
rapidly away up the narrow street in
the direction of the Strand. Ames
looked UP at the lady. 1T is all right,
she said. THE cab is paid. Come in. 81
Ames glanced round him. He knew
that he was in one of the little cluster of
closely resembling streets that run in
parallel lines from the embankment of
the Strand, but he could not in the dark
ness of the night and the confusion of
the moment recall the name of the
street. He saw that the door which the
woman had opened was the door Of
what looked like new and large build
ing of flats, chambers and offices, and
that 1t stood near to the embankment
on the right hand side going towards
the Strand. So much he gathered in a
glance then he followed his leader up
the steps and through the door which
she held half open into a large and
somewhat dimly lighted hall. on both
sides of which Ames saw the long cata-
logue of names printed in gold upon
black grounds which are. as 1t were, the
finger posts to these human hives.
The woman closed the door. Follow
me-" she said. and began to lead the
way up a long flight of stone stairs.
Ames followed her without word, but
as he followed her he assured himself.
almost mechanically, that he was not
unarmed.
The ascent was long up several flights
of those dimly lighted stone steps, on
which the ascending footsteps seemed
to echo gloomily. They passed several
stories, each with it's own family illum-
mated corridor radiating away into
mysterious space, before they came to
Il stop. His guide turned to the right
and walked along corridor that seemed
to lead towards the front of the man
sion. Presently she paused at door
and turned a handle; Ames still follow
ing her, found himself first in the small
hall of a private fiat and then in
dra awing-room which seemed to fling
upon his consciousness a sense Of some-
what savage wealth as the electric
wOmans hand.
Take off your coat" she said. and
then she disappeared through fur
ther door and left him staring curious
ly around him. The room suggested
wealth, ease. even luxury, but there
was a further suggestion Of brutality.
of the barbarous in its oppulence, which
asserted itself with significance. AS
Philo Ames turned to take off his coat
and lay it across remote chair, his
glance was arrested by one among n
line of photographs upon the chimney
piece. 1t was the face of woman that
he had once known, the face OF a
woman that the people who talked OF
him. that the people who talked of her,
declared him to have known very WELL
Seeing the photograph and remember
ing that friendship, Ames saw some
meaning in his presence, in the adven-
ture. He had said many eXtravagant
things to her; she was woman whose
intimacy tempted to eXtravagance; 1t
11N,h s,,Ia hot 6n
said some such words to her as had
been repeated to him by his mysterious
hostess. Well, II he had he would stand
by them now, If only for the old sake's
sake, he said to himself. as he turned
from the familiar face and followed the |
line Of the little gallery of portraits. |
There were some of his hostess, which |
failed, as photographs always fail, to
renew the essence of her beauty; there |
were several, too, Of man, big man, |
Of black favor, strong, swarthy and, to |
Ames' eye, forbidding. But his study |
was interrupted by the sound Of an
opening door, and he swung around to |
salute a metamorphosis. The Lady of |
the Embankment had shed her street |
attire; in place of the long black cloak |
and the small black hat she wore now |
a clinging Dress white with the allur-
ing whiteness of the poftest silk and the
softest laces, foppish, refined provoca-
lively negligent, seeming more like .
garment slipped on for laziness OF some
last hour before bed after ball than
for any more wideawake moment OF the
four -and-twenty hours. Philo felt IN
Of her in his heart which
must have betrayed itself In his eye.
ror che smiled upon him royalty.
"Well," she said, do you still think
that am beautiful?"
Philo Ames had only one answer to
make, and made it. Indeed l do," he
aid. with such absolute sincerity In his
,oice that the woman's pale face flushed
With the unavoidable feminine pleasure
n praise. Ames was thinking to him.
;elf that he had never seen so lovely a
iod's creature.
"Well," she said, after a pause, In
which she etood before him, daintily de-
liant, "am good enough to die for-at
east, am / good enough to risk dying
orr"
Again Ames, in the honesty of his
oul. had but one answer Indeed you
re-" he affirmed, and the way in which
le uttered the common words made
hem uncommon in sincerity.
She gave a laugh, exultant In satis-
action. "You will have your chance
low " she said--"here and now"
Even the GOODNESS of Philo's temper
ven the composure of his carriage,
olld not prevent him from start of
urprise ut this menace of imminent,
Unseen danger. He looked watchfully
t the door of the room which the wo-
nan had just left She followed his
lance and shook her head.
''I.isten." she said. I'D you hear a
mans step in the street. a mans step
n the stair; a horrid step that seems to