The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1896-05-31

uillilOldlIeS. surprise was uOuDleQ Dy
the mans quick retort:
All, gentlemen, no mistake has been
made assure YOU.
And although he looked at US shyly,
yet his manner seemed to reflect a mas
ter's cordiality. 1 thought of all l had
heard of strange personages who keep
their doors open for chance guests. Per-
haps glass had revealed US a strug-
Cling on the moor along the path end
ing in this unexpected welcome. And,
mistake or no, our condition and weari-
ness and hunger, made us accept, after
our proper disclaimer had been disal-
lowed. We asked but to go back for our
wheels. when the man said ne would care
for them, and that his master ought not
to be kept waiting longer. The master
would excuse our appearances, if we
should join him at once; and we, now
inclined to see the adventure to its end,
followed with some amazement that the
burning log on the hearth seemed to
give out no warmth; and, yet, perhaps
the chill from the moor had reached the
marrow so penetratlngly that a Whit
of heat failed to effect.
We were ushered into a great dining
hall where a table was deliberately
spread with quaint, and strange dishes
all it seemed of the gone day of Henri
Quartre; and it was gentleman of that
period, nicely attired in silk and hose
and flowing linen, who bowed urbanely,
and motioned US to the board where
places for two showed that we alone
were expected. Yet for moment we
paused, oblivious of manners-at the
hosts face; thin, narrow, clever, cunning,
high bred, with strange tossing black
eyes; and the voice had that same
French, which had certain antique
phrases that reminded me OF an eSSal
of the Sieur de Montaigne. For the Sieur
de Bellalre appeared 10 have that nice
sense in this masquerade which Mr.. IT.
wing brings to the setting of play,
where accuracy in every detail is TO be
sought. The mouth put the expression
of this gentleman's face-with cruel lines,
and eager white teeth now and again
showing something belieing the graces
of exquisite breeding. Yet when he spoke
this feeling faded, and we sat, on his
motion to our places.
You have kept me waiting, gentle
men, said he with gentle suayity; and
yet [ think you will find the dinner not
so bad-for a country house."
We again cried out mistake had been
made; when he smilingly said that this
was not so; and that were 1t not for the
favor of the storm he should have dined
alone. The man who had admitted US
returned, and became the waiter, glidlng
about serving us, and pouring out from
a dusty fiagon some heavy wine, that
sparkled with delicious suggestiveness,
and sent subtle ire, that stole the chill
away. We began to talk with looSened
tongues, while our host watched us as II
amused at our subjects; as II he indeed
were a. gentleman of the old time who
heard US as one might the redoubtaDle
Baron MunchauSen; watched US with
sheer that was only half covert; and yet,
While listening, said absolutely nothing
of himself; and but shrugged his should
ers when we exclaimed at he exact taste
which had made this perfect Illusion
OF long gone day. ana wnen he had
done-remarking at tne oddly OF the
yiands, as well as at their appetizing
qualities-he still said naught OF him
self, leaving us wondering the more
at the Sieur de Bellaire; that we never
should have heard of him; and that any
mill
could produce such an effect.
Tomorrow said he, and L fancled a
CLEAN OF his eyes, and a twitching of his
lips, Il will explain. Now, know 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, ne
bowed with sudden, curt dismissal, while
the man, candle in hand, beckoned to the
door. Not wishing to press our apprecla-
tion-in this sudden display of naughtI-
ness-we followed, through 1ntermlnaple
corridors, into great damp, tapestrled
chamber, where the servant lit score OF
candles, that but seemed to increase a
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, outside the closed door. Then
we turned to question each others impress
sion; to voice our wonder; to notice fox
on the mountingS; 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
Quartre costume-the same restless eyes
the CLEAN of white teeth under thin eX-
asperating lips And watching, l 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
of DOR trin innYnlin9h1p
as sane and strong as we were we readily
agreed to lie down on the bed without re-
moving our clothes and to leave the
candles burning. A heavy key turned
rustily in the lock. When l crept to Pier
sons side, he already seemed to be sunken
in Slumber, as was reasonable after our
many weary miles that day. But l at
first could not sleep as exhausted as l
was. That striking portrait faced me
and made me dread; and, yet, at last ma
ture had her way.
I walked suddenly with the dread grip
ping my heart-awoke horribly in the pain
of nightmare, my eyes on the portrait of
the Sieur de Bellaire, that the still flick
ering candles showed. Or was it the por-
trait? l. started; feared All, such hor-
rid fear that it wasi Sickening me even
now The Sieur de Bellaire was advans-
ing out of his frame-waS nearing me; and
suddenly leaning forward thrust his teeth
into my throat l could feel a singing,
biting pain; and then l had strength to
exert myself against the Thing. We strove
nightly; l for life; the Thing for desire.
l know of nothing more terrible than that
struggle. L know of nothing that sends
a chill like that of death through the
veins even now. For this was a struggle.
of life and death; the thing was ice, that
froze my heart; that wanted my warm
blood to thaw it's own iciness of death,
and as we rolled, and struggled. 1 heard
no sound from Pierson. Was he dead? 1
knew not. And sometimes the cruel thing
with the bestial fangs had the better; and
then the desire for my own life was
greater than its desire for it; and 1 mat
tered it, Yes, life mastered the thing of
death that fought for the life in me; and
when l knew that I had thrust it from
me,-my life went out of me.
And yet 1 don't know. If it had been
that I died,-that Pierson died. should
not be telling this story. 1 awake, with
a sense of warmth, among tall grass, and
the life giving sun on my face; and rails
ing myself, I looked out on a far reach
of moor, the sun of the day break caught
in the yellow grass tops. No person,-no