The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1896-12-30

Grace looked out of the window in
her turn.
81 don't see any one, Edward.
81 daresay he's hanging on to the
back of our cab-like his impru-
dencel |"
The subject was dismissed and the
man forgotten for the moment. But
two days later, when Mr.. and Mrs.
Smithson were comfortably estab-
lished in luxurious coupe on the
night express from Paris to Marsellles,
Grace was startled out of her sleep by
hearing her husband exclaim
"rhere's that man again u
Grace opened her eyes sleepily.
"WhereP" she asked.
"There, hanging on to the door
his face against the window. Good
God how did he get there2 He'll be
killed"
"It must be the ticket collector"
said Grace.
"With the train running at full
speed? No-impossible |"
"Is he still there?" gasped she.
eyes, OF course are you blindY
"I can't see him." said his wife,
strsining her eyes into the outer dim
ness.
"Can't see himP Why, he's there
all the time, as large as life"
The little blind was drawn over the
lamp in the ceiling, leaving the car.
riage in darkness any face outside the
window would have been distinctly
visible, but Grace could see nothing.
See gave little shudder.
"You must be i'll, Edward--there is
nothing there. Tell me what he is
like"
'I can't see distinctly-his head
seems hanging over on mis- shoulder,
and there's something white round his
throat-a handkerchief, think. All,
he's gone-good heavens he must
have jumped off he'll be smashed"
But Mr.. Smithson's horried speculn-
tions as to the fate of the mysterious
stranger were terminated abruptly by
the discovery that his wife had tainted.
The husband and wife made the Con-
tinental tour.
"Who' your high h-shouldered friend,
Mrs. Smithson?" asked an American
acquaintance one day as they watched
the rouge. et.nolr tables in the gamb-
ling rooms at Monte Carlo. 81 never
see you and your husband without
him, and yet the strange thing is I've
never seen his face or met him by him
SELF"
Grace faltered out some answer and
changed the conversation; but the
American was not to be silenced, for
presently he looked round, started,
and said, with interest in his voice:
"Why, he's there now-just behind
you-queer looking fellowl / can't
make out his FACET seems to be
twisted on one side and it's half hid
den by handkerchief. Good gracious,
Mrs. Smithson, are you ill?"
Perhaps it was hardly surprising
that Grace Smithson became ill; she
did not suffer from any specific NAL
ady, but she could neither eat nor
sleep; her cheeks grew white and
sunken, her eyes hollow.
"I must take you back to England,
Grace" said her husband, but she
shuddered and begged to stay abroad
till the spring.
Grace sat by the window and looked
out across the moonlit gardens; it was
q bitterly cold season at Monte. Carlo; /;
the snow lay on the ground. and the
wind growled fitfully through the
evergreen oaks. There was q fire In
her sitting room, but Grace shivered
and drew her cloak closer around her.
She rose and went to the table for q
book. A little calendar was lying
there; she glanced at 1.-THE seven
teenth of February. 1t was the ami
versary of Luke Maitland's death
She shook from head to foot and
glanced furtively over her shoulder,
half expecting to see some dreadful
thing, but there was nothing there.
But an awful feeling of terror was on
her. She opened the door and went
out into the corridor, thinking she
would call the maid on some pretext.
In the room opposite her own there
we're loud talk and laughter and the
lively popping OF corks. The sounds
reassured her; she felt less cut of
from humanity and half ashamed of
her fears-she would go back again.
She pushed open the door, but it re.
sisted and felt curiously heavy under
her trembling hand its action seemed
impeded by some heavy weight. She
opened it, however. and it swung back
behind her, closing loudly under the
sudden impetus. Some dark object
was hanging on the door with heart
that had almost stopped beating,
Grace stood and looked. 1t was @
dark, dimly-seen figure, the head
hanging over upon one shoulder; q
faint ray of moonlight touched the
FACET was the face of dead man.
a white'handkerchief was frightened un.
der the blackened throat, the eyes
started forward in a blind, CLASSY
stare, the mouth was twisted in a
CHASTITY grin. 1t was the face of Luke
Maitland as Tom had described it.
When Mr.. Smithson came in half an
hour later he found his wife rigid and
unconscious. He, too, saw the awful
figure hanging on the door the CLASSY
eyes seemed staring into his; there
was a horrible malignity in the dis
torted grin. He gazed, fascinated,
then a moan from Grace drew his eyes
away. When he looked mp again the
figure had gone. Luke Maitland was
never seen again he had made his last
call