Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1898-11-24

THE P0RTENT. ;
CHAPTER Nv.
) - = - y . . 90

different There was light in il now
and signs of mental movement. The
smooth forehead would be occasionally
wrinkled. and she would fall into
moods which were evidently not of in
sanity. but of distracted thought. She
took especial care that our eyes should
not meet If by chance they did. in
stead of sinking hers, she kept them
steady. and opened them wider. rs if
she was fixing them on nothing at all.
or she raised them still higher, as if
she was looking AT something above
me. before she allowed them to fall.
But the change in her altogeth was
such that it must have attracted the
notice and reused the speculation of
Lady Hilton at least. For me, so We'll
did she act her part that ] was thrown
into perpleXity by it. And when day
after day passed and the longing to
speak to her grew. and remained I'M
satisfied. new doubts arose. Perhaps
she was tired of me. Perhaps her
new studies filled her mind with the
clear, gladstone morning light of the
pure intellect. which always throws
doubt and distrust and a kind of ne
CATION upon the moonlight of passion,
mysterious, and mingled ever with
faint shadows Of pain. / walked as
in an unresting sleep. Utterly as l
loved her. ] was get alarmed and dis
tressed to find how entirely my being
had grown dependent upon her love;
how little OF individual, self-eXistins,
self-upholding life, / seemed TO have
left: how little / cared for anything,
save as | could associate it with her.
/ was sitting late one night in my
room. | had all but given up hope OF
her coming. l had, perhaps. deprived
her Of the somnambulic power. ] was
brooding over this possibility, when all
at once | felt as if were looking into
the haunted room. 1t seemed TO be
lighted by the moon, shining through
the stained windows. The feeling
came and went suddenly, as such Wis
ions of places generally do; but this
had an indescribable something about
it more clear and real than such res
directions of the past. whether willed
or unwilled. commonly possess; and
great longing seized me to look into
the room once more. | rose with
sense of yielding to the irresistible,
left the room, groped my way through
the hall and up the oak Staircase
had never thought of taking light
with me-and entered the corridor.
No sooner had | entered it than the
thought sprung up in my mind-"Wh hat
If she should be there" My heart
stood still for a moment, like wound
ed deer. and then bounded on, with a
pang in every bound. The corridor
was night itself. with a dim, BLUSH
gray light from the windows, suf1cing
TO mark their own spaces. | stole
through it, and, without erring once,
went straight to the haunted cham
Der. The door stood half open. ! en-
tered. and was bewildered by the dim,
mysterious, dreamy loveliness upon
which | gnzcd. The moon shone fun
upon the windows, and thousand
colored lights and shadows crossed
and intertwined upon the walls ana
floor, all so soft, and mlngllng, and
underlined, that the brain was filled
as with n Pickering dance of ghosty
rainbows But | had little time to
think of these; for out of the only dark
corner in the room came white hS-
ure, fitting across the chaos of lights,
bedewed, besprinkled, bespattered, as
she passed, with their multitudinous
colors. / was speeches., motionless,
with something far beyond JOY. With
a low moan of delight Lady Alice sunk
into my arms. Then, looking up with
n light laugh: THE scales are turned,
dear" she said. You are In my pow
er, now; I brought you here. ] thought
/ could, and / tried for l wanted so
much to see you-and you are come"
She led me across the room to the
place where she had been seated, and
we sat side by side.
II thought you lad forgotten me,
I said, cor had gre wn tired of me"
Did you2 That was unkind. You
have made my haart so still, that,
body and soul, sleep at night"
"Then shall / never see you moreT
I'VE can meet here. This is the best
place. No one daIes come near the
haunted room at night. We might
even venture In the evening. Look,
now, from where we are sitting, across
the air, between the windows and the
shadows on the floor. Do you see
nothing movingT
looked, but could see nothing. She
resumed:
Il almost fancy, sometimes, that
what old stories say about this room
may be true. | could fancy, now, that
see dim, transparent forms In an
cient armor, and In strange antique
dress, men and women, moving about,
meeting, speaking, embracing, parting,
coming and going. But | was never
afraid of such beings. | am sure these
would not, could not hurt u.s."
II the room was not really what It
was well fitted to be-a rendezvous for
the ghosts of the past-then either my
Imagination, becoming more active 40
she spoke, began TO operate upon my
brain, or her fancics were mysterious
ly communicated tc me; for / was per
suaded that | saw such dim, underlined,
forms as she described, of n substance
only denser than the moonlight, fitting
and floating about between the win
dows and the Illuminated floor. Could
they have been colored shadows
thrown from the stained glass upon
the fine dust with which the slightest
motion ia such an old and neglected
room must fill it's atmosphere? | did
not think of that then, however
81 could persuade myself that /, too,
see them" l replied. 81 cannot say
that | am afraid OF such beings any
more than you-if only they will not
speak"
An she replied. with heightened
meaning utterance, expressing sym
pathy with what / said; "I know
what you mean. I, too, am afraid OF
hearing things. And that reminds me
have never yet asked you about the
galloping horse. /, too, hear some
times the sound OF loose horseshoe
II always betokens some evil 10 ms
but | do not know what 1t means. Do
your
do you know" ] reJoined. thai
there Is connection between yOul
family and mine, somewhere far back
In their historiesf"
mo! Is there? How glad I am
Then perhaps you and are reiated
| and that T. how we are so much alike
| and have power over each other and
| hear the same things"
| Eyes. | suppose that Is how"
| "Rut can YOU account for that soun(