The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1897-04-03

cretion that withheld me How shail-l
say It? There was an emanation-an
impression-coming from that room
that chilled my blood, ,stifled my breath,
and brought to the heart an indescrib-
able feeling of sckening faintness. 1t
was an impression of overpowering
WiCkedness-a wickedness subtler and
more deadly than belonged to the or
dinary scope of human nature. and
which, i'm spite of the horror of repul-
sion IL aroused in me, had also a strange
attractive force, as II it claimed rela-
tionship with all the latent or unac-
knovledged evil in my own soul, and
sought, by means of that sympathy, to
draw me into partnership and compile
ity with the crimc--whatcver It was
that was being or about to be perpe-
trated on the other side of that closed
door,
Between the impulse to retreat and
the impulse to go forward / remained
motionless. Hut | felt my Will losing
its mastery; and as that sweet, low
voice spoke again, the words desperate
ly formed themselves in my mind
whether or not | uttered them ] know
not! "Oh, Lord, deliver mel"
In the same moment there was a
quick rustic and a start, a confusion of
| sound, and then wcman's scream, so
wild and fearful that horror and ter
ror seemed to be gathered up and con-
| centrated in it. Following-nay, join
| ing in with twas burst of savage
! laughter; then, the hurried stamping
of feet, mingled cries, and the crash of
an overturned table With this din
ri N uin i,, t,nNy 4 cta a
and pushed violently against the door,
1t started from its decayed hinges. and
! fell with a resoundng clang against
| the floor, revealing every portion of the
room beyond to my sight.
Silence, emptiness, and gloom! The
| room was at "a corner of the edince; II
| portion of the outer wall was missing,
! leaving u great, ragged gap, through
| which the moonlight quietly fell.
| Bushes sprouted in the crevices of the
| crumbling stones; the fresh night air
eddied in and swept my face. The
| rains and SHOWS of generations, falling
| through the ruined wall, had gradually
| rottcd away the timbers of the floor,
and at some unknown past time,it had
! given way, leaving a black void in the
! midst of the space. No human being
| could have stood in that apartment for
! hundreds of years. What nameless
| tragedy was it, then, whose hot atmos-
! phere 7 had breathed; whose frenzy
| had felt, whose horror had frozen my
| senses but a moment since? l stared in
vain into the vacant dusk; there was
nothing-nothins Nothing save ruin,
the slow decay of ages. silence, and
| night. But that scream! 1t rang in
my brain still. l can hear it now. The
| solid earth may be a vision and a shad-
ow; but the agony of that scream will
be a reality forever.
l returned to my own room, gathered
| up my traps and descended to the
courtyard. | had had enough of the hos
| pitality of this sinister dwelling. /
found my horse trembling and dripping
with sweat. though l had carefully rub
! bed him down before leaving him. He
whinnied as I entered and pressed up
| against me, heing plainly as eagerly
anxious to get away as i was. l sad
| died and mounted him and rode forth.
In the east was already a faint bright
ness of dawn.
| At the foot of the hill ! met a peas
ant going towards the lake. What
place is that?" l asked him, pointing
up to the great pile | had just Quilted
Sure, tits Sullane, yer honor!" re-
piled he.
Does anyone live there?"
'Is it live there?-live at Sullane?"
The fellows face expressed a sort of
humorous CONSERVATION. 1.-The divil
and his imps-askin' yer honor's par
doD-plays their pranks there on All
| a o. lint ooh
slept at Sullane and awoke to tell what
killed him in the morning."
1t was not until some months later,
after l had returned to America, that |
found the little leather-b bound book in
my trunk and read the story, in the
perusal of which had been interrupted
on that night. The substance of it is
as follows:
The last lord of Sullane, a powerful
noble and famous warrior, lived in
| the latter part of the sixteenth CEN
tury. He married a young wife, to
| whom he was devotedly attached For
| some years they We're childless then
a boy was born. But the husband sus-
pected the fidelity of his wife. He dis
sembled his suspicious, even so far as
to profess his love even more vehem-
emily than before. At length he an
nounced that he was about to make a
journey and would be absent several
weeks; but would send steward to at
! tend to the business of the household
while he was away He went; the
steward came. He proved to be dumb.
but was otherwise highly intelligent;
and what was more, he soon showed
himself more than willing to aid and
abet the wishes of the lady of Sui
| lane. Having assured her Of his trust
| worthiness she made the dumb man
her confidant. one night-it was All
| Halloween-sh entertained stranger
at dinner. The steward was present
and waited on them. The party was
full of mirth and reckless frolic. They
drank wine freely and ate heartily, the
.. steward urging them to excess. The
main dish was a ragout, prepared by
the steward himself, of rare flavor and
delcacy. The lady of Sullane declared
that she had never tasted aught so de-
liciOus, and asked the steward of what
meat it was made. He replied that he
had dressed the head Of the animal as
a side dish, and with that he placed II
before her, covered with a silver cover
She took off the cover and saw in the
dish the head of her own son.
She started up with a scream; the
stranger sank back i'm his chair, dis
mayed. The steward threw off his dis
guise. He was the lord of Sullane
himself. He plunged his sword
through the body of the man; but the
wife, driven mad by horror, was al
ready a gibbering maniac. How long
| she remained I'm that condition Is moi