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

NtliDs Nv " " "a XIV iHt oOtAo
answer TO these horrible charges that are
made against you. II you tell me that they
are absolutely untrue from beginning to
end, ] will believe you. Deny them, Dorian.
deny them Can't you sec what I am GO
Ing through My God don't tell me that
you are infamous ="
Dorian Cray smiled. There was a curl Of
contempt in his lips. Come upstairs,
Basil. he said, quietly. II keep q diary Of
my life from day To day, and 1t never leaves
the room in which 1t is written. Twill show
IL TO you IL you come with me-
Il will come with you. Dorian. II you wish
il. I see ] have missed my train. That
makes no matter. | can 20 tomorrow.
But don't ask me - read anything tonight.
AL / want is a plain answer to my question. |"
"Iha will be- given TO YOU upstairs. /
could not give II here. You won't have TO
read long. DoNl keep me waiting"
CHATTER xf.
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. The lamp cast fantastic
hadows 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 it in the lock.
you insist on knowing, Basil; !" he asked,
in "a low voice.
Yes >
II am delighted" he murmured. smiling.
Then he added. somewhat bitterly: you
are the cne mar In the world VINO Is en-.
titled TO know everything about me You
have had more To 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 a fame 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 rs II
ii had not been lived in for years. A faded
Flemish tapestry. a curtained picture, and
old Italian oassons, 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-burued candle that was
standing on the mantel-shelf, he saw thai
the whole place was covered with dust, and
that the carpet was in holes. A mouse ran
scuffiing behind the wainscOting. There
was a damp odor of mildew
80 you think that il is only God who sees
the soul, Basili 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. ="
muttered Hallward. rrowning.
You won't: Then ! must do it myself"
said the young man and be tore the curtain
from itg pnI and H4lun IL N IN tho ,x,..t,pI
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 filed him with disgust and loathing.
Good heavens il was Dorian Gray's own
face. h horror. whatever it was.
had not yet entirely married 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, il was Dorian himself.
But who had done itl He seemed To recog-
nize his own brush-work. and the frame
was his own design. The idea was mon
strous, yet be felt afraid. He seized the
lighted candle. and held il 10 the picture.
In the left-hand corner was his own name,
traced III long red letters of bright YER
1t was some foul parody, some infamous,
ignoble satire. He had never done that.
Still it was his own picture. He knew il,
and he felt as if his blood had changed from
fire 10 sluggish ice in a moment. His w
picture, What did it mean. Why had il
] ai,.-aaf LIa t,t,nnJ anA lN,Iaj Of nnrsa,
Gray with the eyes of a sick man. His
mouth twitched, and his parched tongue
seemed unable 10 articulate. He passed his
land across his forehead. IL 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 vino
are absorbed In a play when a real artist is
acting. There was neither real sorrow in it
nor real Joy. There was simply the passion
Of the spectator. with perhaps "a flicker of
triumph in the eyes. He had taken the
flower out of his coat, and was smelling it,
or pretending 10 do 50.
What does this meant" cried Hallward,
1T last. His own voice sounded shrill and
curious in his ears.
Years ago when l was q boy" said
Dorian Gray. you met me, devoted your.
self TO me. fiattered me. and taught me to
be vain Of my good looks. One day you in
troduced me To a friend of yours, who ex-
planned to ne the wonder of youth, and you
finished IA portrait of me that revealed TO me
the wonder Of beauty. In "a mad moment,
that | don't know, even now, whether | re-
greet or not, | made q wish. Perhaps YOU
call il a prayer
Il remember il. Oh, how well l remem-
Der it. No; the thing Is possible. The room is
damp. The mildew has got into the canvas.
The paints l used had some wretched
mineral poison in them. ! tell YOU the thing
Is impossible"
"Ah, what is impossible!" murmured the
young man. going over to the window, and
leaning his forehead against the cold, mist
stained glass.
You told me you had destroyed it,"
~ was wrong " has destroyed me"
~ don't believe it is my picture"
Cant you see your romance in itr said
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."
1T is the face of my soul" *
Goo what a thing ] must nave worship
ed, This has the eyes Of a devil
Each of US has heaven and he'll in him,
Basil" cried Dorian, with a wild gesture Of
despair.
Hallward turned again 10 the portrait,
and gazed at it. MY God if il is true" he
exclaimed, and this is what you have done
with your life, why, you must be worse
even than those who talk against you fancy
you to be-" He held the light up again TO
the canvas, and examined it. The surface
seemed to be quite undisturbed. and rs he
had left il. II was from within, apparently.
that the f~oulness and horror had zone.
Through some strange q%uickening Of inner
life tho leprosies Of sin were slowly eating
the thing away. The rotting Of a corpse in
q watery grave was not so fearful.
His hand shook, and the candle fell from
Its socket on the floor, and lay there sputter-
trg. He placed his foot ON il 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 vouuU man sohhiuy at