Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1896-12-18


sent through us subtle fire that stole the
chill away. We began to talk with loos
ened tongues, while our host watched us
as if amused at our subiects-is if he, in
deed, were gentleman of the old time
who heard us as one might the redoubtable
Baron Northumberland us with Il
sneer that was only half covert, and yet
while listening, said absolutely nothing Of
himself, and but shrugged his shoulders
when we exclaimed at the exact taste
which had made this perfect illusion of u
long gone day. And when we had done
remarking at the oddity of the viands as
we'll as at their appetizing qualities-he
still said naught of himself, leaving us
wondering the more at the Sieur de Bell
aire-that we never should have heard of
him, and that any person, even with
millionaires power, could produce such
an effect
Tomorrow, said he, ana l fancied l
saw gleam of his eyes and twitching of
his lips, II will explain. Now, l know
you are weary. Theodore will show you
your lodging, which l hope may prove
satisfactory"
When we answered that nothing could
be more pleasingly perfect than this choice
hospitality to belated strangers, he bowed
with sudden curt dismissal, while the
man, candle in hand, beckoned to the
door, Not wishing to press our apprecia-
ton in this sudden display Of haughtness,
we followed, through interminable corri-
doris, into u great, damp, tapestried cham
Der, where the servant lit a score of can
dies that but seemed to increase sense of
gloom. A great bed, such as you may see
in the museum of Cluny was at one side,
but the room was singularly cherries as
the servants steps sounded and faded out
side the closed door, Then we turned to
question each others impressions, to ex-
press our wonder, to pause with sudden
horror and amazement at full length
portrait of our host opposite the bed.
There he stood, looking at us in Henri
Quatre costume-the same restless eyes,
the CLEAN of white teeth under thin, exas-
perating lips And, watching, I grew to
fear and hate that face.
Pierson shared my feeling The whole
adventure had been so unaccountable, the
object of our entertainer even on the
score of eccentricity-so inexplicable, that,
sane and strong as we were, we readily
agreed to lie down on the bed without re-
moving our clothes and to leave the can
dies burning. A heavy key turned rustily
in the lock- When l crept to Pierson s
side, he already seemed to be sunken in
slumber, as was reasonable after our
many weary miles that day But could
not sleep, exhausted as l was That
striking portrait faced me and made me
dread, and yet at last nature had her way.
I awakened suddenly with the dread
gripping my heart-awoke horribly in the
pain of nightmare, my eyes on the por-
trait of the Sieur de BellaiIe that the still
Pickering candles showed. Or was 1t the
portrait? stared l feared-ah, such
horrid fear that it was sickening me even
now! The Sieur de Bellaire was advanc-
ing out of his frame-was nearing me
and, suddenly leaning forward, thrust his
teeth into my throat. could feel a sting
ing, biting pain, and then had strength
to exert myself against the thing We
strove mightily-I for my life, the thing
for desire. I know of nothing more ter
rible than that struggle. know of moth
ing else that sends chill like that Of
death through the veins even now, for
this was struggle Of life and death. The
thing was ice that froze my heart, that
wanted my warm blood to thaw its own
iciness Of death. And as we rolled and
struggled heard no sound from Plerson
The cruel thing with the bestial fangs
had the better; and the desire for my own
life was greater than its desire for 1t. And
mastered 1t. Yes, life mastered the
thing OF death that fought for the life IN
me, and when knew that had thrust
1T from me my life went out OF me.
And yet don't Know Ii IL had peen
that L died-that Plerson died. should
not be telling this story. lawoke, with a
sense OF warmth, among tall grass and the
life giving sun on my face, and raising
myself looked out on far reach OF moor,
the sun or the daybreak caught IN the vel
low grass tops NO person-no living thing
was IN view. Yes, there was house on q
near road, but where was the battlementeo
house OF the night befores And L saw
Pierson sleeping at my side, and then rails
ing himself he turned on me fearful,
questioning stare. noticed our wheels
lying at our sides, as If we had fallen from
them where we were. And then had
pain at the throat and, feeling there, knew
1T had been torn and was still bleeding,
anu Persons throat had some unaccount'
able mark.
Shortly we began to question each other
in hoarse, unnatural voices, and his story
was as mine Yet we said nothing in sur
prise. We did not call each other liars.
For we knew. And SO, too lame to mount
even when we found the path, we turned
toward the house we had seen--limping
| with aching muscles.
The house proved to be the inn we had
been seeking in the nights Storm There
we breakfasted, and then began to ask in
the taproom Of the Sieur de Bellaire Of the
house Of the Bronze Fox. Perhaps they
did not understand, for as we questioned
they skunk away But barefooted men
dicant, brown oowled monk, who was
| listening, came forward crossing himself
| and surprising us with excellent English.