Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1896-10-24

answer To these horrible charges that are
made against you. Ii you tell me that they
are absolutely untrue from beginning to
end. l will believe YOU. Deny them, Dorian.
deny them! Can't you see what ] am go-
ing throughi My God don't tell me that
you are infamous"
Dorian Gray smiled. There was u curl of
contempt in his lips. Come upstairs,
Basil, " he said, quietly. Il keep u diary of
my life from day TO day, and IL never leaves
the room in which it is written. Twill show
it TO you If you come with me"
II will come with you, Dorian, If you wish
1t. see ! have missed my train. That
makes no matter. | can 20 tomorrow.
But don ask me TO read anything tonight.
All want is "A plain answer To my question"
''rhat will be given TO you upstairs. /
could not give it here. You won't have to
read long. DoNt keep me waiting"
CHAPTER NJ.
He passed out of the room, and began the
ascent, Basil Hallward following close be-
hind. They walked softly, as men instinct
lively do at night. Thu lamp cast fantastic
shadows on the wall and staircase. A rising
wind made some Of the windows rattle.
When they reached the top landing,
Dorian set the lamp down on the floor, and
taking out the key turned il in the lock-.
you insist on knowing, Basil; :" he asked,
in a low voice.
"Ees,N
Il am delighted. he murmured, smiling.
Then he added, somewhat bitterly; "You
are the che man in the world who is en-.
titled TO know everything about me. You
have had more 10 do with my life than
you think" And, taking up the lamp, he
opened the door and went in. A cold cur
rent Of air passed them, and the light shot
up for "A moment in Il flame of murky orange,
He shuddered. Shut the door behind
you" he said as he placed the lamp on the
table.
Hallward glanced around him, with a
puzzled expression. The room looked as il
it had not been lived in for years. A faded
Flemish tapestry, a curtained picture, and
old Italian cdss0nc, and an almost empty
book-case-that was all il seemed TO contain,
beside a chair and a table. AS Dorian Gray
was lighting a half-burned candle that was
standing on the mantel. shelf, he saw that
the whole place was covered with dust, and
that the carpet was in holes. A mouse ran
scuffing behind the wainscoting. There
was a damp Odor of mildew.
: you think that il is only God who sees
the soul. Basil! Draw the curtain back,
and you will see mine"
The voice that spoke was cold and cruel.
'Iou are mad, Dorian, or playing "a part, I"
muttered Hallward. frowning.
"Eou won't! Then I must do il myself"
said the young man and he tore the curtain
from its rod, and flung it on the ground.
An exclamation Of horror broke from
Hallward's lips as he saw in the dim light
the hideous thing on the canvas leering at
him. There was something in its expression
that filled him with disgust and loathing.
Good heavens it was Dorian Grdy's own
face. The horror, whatever il was,
had not yet entirely marrcd that mar
velous beauty. There was still some gold
In the thinning hair and some scarlet on the
sensual lips. The sodden eyes had kept
something of the loneliness of their blue,
the noble curves had not vet passed entire
ly away from chiseled ~nostrils and from the
plastic throat. Yes, it was Dorian himself.
But who had done il! He seemed To recog-
nize his own brush-work, and the frame
was his own design. The idea was mon
strous, yet he felt afraid. He seized the
lighted candle, and held it to the picture.
In the left-hand corner was his " name,
traced in long red letters OF bright yer.
million.
II was some foul parody, some infamous,
ignoble satire. He had never done that.
Still il was his own picture. He knew il,
and he felt as if his blood had changed from
fire to sluggish ice in "a moment. His own
picture! What did it meant Why had il
altered He turned, and looked at Dorian
Gray with the eyes of a sick man. His
mouth twitched, and his parched tongue
seemed unable to articulate. He passed his
hand across his forehead. 1t was dank with
clammy sweat.
The young man was leaning against the
mantel-shelf, watching him with that ex.
preston that is on the faces of those who
are absorbed in IA play when IA real artist is
acting. There was neither real sorrow in il
nor real JOY. There was simply the passion
of the spectator, with perhaps a flicker OF
triumph in the eyes. He had taken thu
flower out Of his coat, and was smelling it
or pretending TO do so.
What does this mean" cried Hallward
at last. His W voice sounded shrill anC
curious in his ears.
Years ago when / was a boy" SAID
''iA - 'iasG N'h INV NV, hNNONtl YUM
self to me, fiattered me. and taught me e
be vain Of my good looks. One day YOU in
troduced me to a friend of yours, who OK
planned 10 me the wonder of youth, and you
finished IA portrait of me tina revealed TO me
the wonder of beauty. In "a mad moment
that ] don't know, even now, whether | re
greet or not, l made u wish. Perhaps yo,
call it a prayer"
Il remember it. Oh, how well | remem
Der it! No; the thing is possible. The room |.
damp. TIL mildew has got into the canvas
The paints | used had some wretchet
mineral poison in them. ! tell YOU the Trims
is impossible"
"Ah, what is impossible!" murmured tn,
young man, going over to the window, anc
leaning his forehead against the cold, mist
stained glass.
You told me you had destroyed it,"
81 was wrong. 1t has destroyed me.n
~ don't believe it is my picture"
Cant you see your romance in III" sale
Dorian, bitterly.
my romance, as you call it"
"As you called IT,"
'There was nothing evil in it, nothing
shameful. This is the face Of satyr."
at Is the face Of my soul"
God! what a thing | must have worship
ed! This has the eyes of a devil"
Each Of us has heaven and hell in him
Basil, /" cried Dorian, with a wild gesture O
despair.
Hallward turned again To the portrait
md gazed at it. my God if it is true" he
exclaimed, 'and this is what you have done
with your life, why, you must be worse
sven than those who talk against you fancy
you to be-" He held the light up again u
The canvas, and examined it. The surface
seemed TO be quite undisturbed. and as he
had left it. 1t was from within, apparently
that the ~foulness and horror had come
Through some strange q%uickening of innei
life the leprosies Of sin were slowly eating
the thing away. The rotting Of a corpse in
a watery grave was not so fearful.
His hand shook, and the candle fell from
its socket on the floor, and lay there sputter
irg. He placed his foot on it and put it out
Then he flung himself into the rickety chair
that was standing by the table and buried
his face in his hands.
Good God, Dorian, what a lesson! what
an awful lesson! !" There was no answer
but he could hear the young man sobbing al
the window.