The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1896-10-30

came to rest, and | perceived that it
was of the most ordinary description.
4 shaft of pale light from the window
made plain the pattern of a cheap in
grain carpet ON the floor; a few pieces
of furniture doomed up in dusky blots
against the walls. Below, l presently
distinguished low droning of voices.
Where We're my friends? What had
become of Elsie?
Still dreading surprises, | crcpt eau
tiously down 4 stairway and through
several rooms. They We're chill and
empty. The merry company had van
ished: of the great open fire before
which we had roasted nuts 7 could
find no trace. not even the ashes.
The murmur that had at first at
tracted my attention was, however
still audible, and | now reached dooi
through the chinks of which leaked
CLEANS of light. This door | pushed
| open; it disclosed the parlor into which
we had first been uShered On the
table light was burning. and near il
thank Heaven for that-was Elsie
seated in a low rocking chair. Hei
| attitude was dreamy, and her eyes
We're almost closed. Opposite her sat
the hypnotist, his look fixed, his right
| arm extended; and as / strode in
caught the words:
"Remember-at the first clod"
The professor turned with a start
Elsie opened her eyes; they frightened
| as they rested on me.
1T must be very late" she muir
INJURED, with little yawn. Il car
| hardly keen awake. You must take
| me home now. John.'
| RuneStanc was regarding me Will
| evident displeasure. You have com,
too soon" he said, "but nOvices are
never to be trusted: it takes time I,
! establish full rapport. And you have
| had IA needless shock, but it doesn't
| matter.
Nov CO." he continued rudely. Hi.
| manner was almost fierce. The seanct
| is broken: don't bother me with ques
| tions. Take her home. and thank fat,
/ that you didn't push in a moment
/ earlier
1 was furious, though powcress t.
| contend. Where are our friends"
| cried. II demand an explanation"
Go at once" he repeated. with men.
| ace in his tone. 60! and keep ou
| of my way hereafter, or it may be the
| worse for YOU
Dismayed and pale, Elsie clung to my
| arm. "Oh! take me home,' she whis
| pered.
He almost pushed us out. Soon W,
We're speeding down the road, but my
hands were SO unsteady that L coulC
| scarcely hold the reins.
Elsie rested her glove upon my shoul
! der, and her cheek upon her glove
| bright tear drops trickled down m,
| sleeve.
| Dear John" she sobbed. "forgiv,
me. Poor boy. how you tremble. l
was awful. We ought never to hav,
| come. 1t was very, very wrong of m,
| to make you. Forgive me. John. For
| give me, please, and don't love me an.
less. / couldn't bear to have you blam,
me"-and her tears streamed afresh
I'm afraid it isn't for very long, any
| way" she said.
l didn't grasp the fun import of he
words then: l had reason to remembe
her i'm lover fashion. but / was still un
nerved and all ajar. 1 was bewildered
too. and felt sure of nothing.
"Oh. Elsie what became of the com
pany?'' 1 cried. what really hap
pened?"
John! John! there wasn't any com
pany!" she gasped. Don't you knoy
there wasn't? Not much of anything
really happened. except that he got hol,
of you with that awful influence"
And the games we played, and tn
|
and the fire"
1T was nothing at all. We just sa
in the parlor, and he talked and talke
in that queer, droning way, and some
how you seemed to see everything h
told about, and more, too. I though
it was funny at first, and was rathe
glad to see you taken down, after tn
things you had said. I Gin't realiz
what dreadful power he was gainin
over you; it didn't seem possible tina
you were taking it seriously. At las
he sent you upstairs, and then-I don