Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1896-10-31

trellls-Work ana dotted pomegranateS. III
had been given TO him by Adrian Singleton.
As he turned over the pages his eye fell on
the poem about the hand Of Lacenaire, the
cold yellow hand ''da supplice encore nal
hUec,h with its downy red hairs and it's
''doigs ne Jdune."
How exquisite the verses were! As one
read them, one seemed 10 be floating down
the green waterways Of the pink and pearl
city. lying in "A black gondola with silver
prov and trailing curtains. The mere ines
looked 10 him like those straight lines Of
turquois blue that follow one as one pushes
out To the Lido. The sudden flashes OF color
reminded him Of the CLEAN Of the opal-and-
iris-throated birds that futter round the
ta~ii-honey-combed Campanile, or stalk, with
such stately grace, through the dim arcades.
Leaning back with half-closed eyes, he kept
saying over and over To himself:
"Devant une facade rose.
sur lie mafbrc d un Gsealier."
The whole Of Venice was in those two
lines, He remembered the autumn That he
had passed there, and a wonderful love that
had stirred him 70 delightful fantastic
follies. There was romance in every place.
But Venice, like Oxford, had kept the back
kAphhA W iDiauhANi Az a ELbhil Was
everything, or almost everything. Basil
had been with him part OF the time, and
had gone wild over Tintoret. Poor Basil
what a horrible way for a man to die
He sighed, and took up the book again,
and tried to forget. He read Of the swal-
lows that fly in and cut Of the little cafe at
Smyrna where the Hadiis sit counting their
amber beads and the turbaned merchants
smokc their long tasseled pipes and talk
Rrayely 10 each other; Of the Obelisk in the
Place de la Concorde that weeps tears OF
granite in it's lonely sunless exile, and longs
10 be back by the hot lotus covered Nile.
where there are Sphinxes, and rose-red
ibsses, c- white v~ultures with gilded
claws, and crocodiles. with small beryl
eyes, that crawl over the green steaIning
mud and Of that curious statue that Gautier
compares TO a contraltO voice. the ''monstTe
ehdrmdnt' that crouches in the %porphyry-
room Of the Louvre. But after a time the
book fell from his hand. He grew nervous,
and a horrible 1T of terror came over him.
What il Alan Campbell should be out Of En-
glandi Days would elapse before he could
corne back. Perhaps he might refuse 10
come. What could he do then. Every mo-
ment was of vital Importance.
They had been great friends once, five
years before-almost inseparable. indeed.
Then the intimacy had come suddenly to an
end. When they met in society now. il was
only Dorian Gray who smiled Alan Camp
bell never did.
He was an extremely clever young man.
though he had no real appreciation of the
vic ;hla arts apd ,yhate,-op Ii,tla Gapsa ~ the
beauty Of poetry he possessed he had gained
entirely from Dorian. His dominant in
tellectual passion was for science. At
Cambridge he had spent a great deal Of his
time working in the Laboratory, and had
taken a good class in the Natural Science
tripos of his year. Indeed he was still de-
voted 10 the study Of chemistry, and had a
laboratory Of his own, in which he used to
shut himself up all day long, greatly 10 The
annoyance of his mother, who had set her
heart on his standing for Parliament and
had a vague idea that a chemist was a per-
son who made up prescriptions. He was an
excellent musician, however, as well, and
played both the violin and the piano better
than most amateurs. In fact. il was music
that had first brought him and Dorian Gray
together-music and that inde1nable at
traction that Dorian seemed TO be able TO
exercise whenever he wished, and indeed
exercised often without being conscious Of il.
This was the man that Dorian Gray was
waiting for, pacing up and down the room,
glancing every moment at the clock. and
becoming horribly agitatcd as the minutes
servant entered.
Mr.. Alan Campbell, sir"
a sigh of relief broke from his parched
lips. and the color came back to his cheeks.
Ask him to come in at once, Francis"
The man bowed, and retired. In a few
moments, Alan Campbell walked in, looking
very stern and rather pale, his pallor being
intensified by his coal-black hair and dark
eyebrows.
"Alan! this is kind Of you. / thank you
for coming
81 had intended never 10 enter your house
again, Gray, But you said it was a matter
of life and death" His voice was hard and
cold. He spoke with slow deliberation.
Their was a look of contempt in the steady
searching gaze that he turned on Dorian.
He kept his hands in the pockets Of his
Astrakhan coat, aud appeared not 10 have
uOllCtu inc ESStuIe WIN Nhl1h NC uau oSSu
greeted.
at is a matter Of life and. death, Alan,
and to more than one person. Sit down"
Campbell took a chair by the table, and
Dorian sat opposite to him. The two mems
eyes met. In Dorian's there was infinite
pity. He knew that what be was going 10
do was dreadful.
After a strained moment of silence. he
leaned across and said. very quietly, but
watching the effect Of each word upon the
face Of the man he had sent for, ALAN. in a
locked room at the top of this house, a room
TO which nobody but myself has access, a
dead man is seated at a table. He has been
dead ten hours now. Don't stir, and don't
look at me like that. Who the man is, why
he died, how he died, are matters that do
not concern you. What you have 10 do is
this"
"Stop, Gray. Idon't want TO know any
thing further. Whether what YOU have
told me is true or not true, doesn't concern
me. ] entirely decline TO be mixed up in
your life. Keep your horrible secrets 10
yourself. They don't interest me any more
ALAN, they will be of interest you. This
one will have to interest you. am awfully
4 SOTTN lOE YOU. <tlhh. Ddb q = hClP my
self. You are the one man who is able TO
save me. I am forced to bring you into the
matter. have no option. Alan. You are a
scientist You know about chemistry, ard
things of that kind. You have made ex-
periments. What you have got 10 do is To
destroy the thing that is upstairs--to de-
stroy it so that not a vestige will be left Of
T. Nobody saw this person come into the
house. Indeed, at the present moment he
is supposed to be in Paris. He will not be
| missed for months. When he is missed,
there must be no trace Of him found here.
You, Alan, you must change him, and
everything tina. belongs 10 him, into a hand
full Of ashes that may scatter in the air.
"You are mad, Dorian"
"Ah! I was waiting for you TO call me
Dorian
"You are mad. I tell you-mad to imagine
that l would raise a finger TO help you, mad
To make this monstrous confession. i will
have nothing to do with this matter, what
ever II Is. Do you think j Am going to peril
my reputation for you, What is ii TO me
what devils work you are up to''
1T was a suicide, Alan
II am glad of that. But who drove him
70 it, You, l should fancy
T 80