The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1900-11-08
While the Candle Burns
BY W. Streeton Smith.


he guard it so carefully?
"Yes, mon ami, it has a history
that coin" To my delight he had
preached the subject himself. Take it
In your fingers. Hollow?-exactly.
And that small red spot there-you
see it?-that looks so insignificant,
but means so much
It began with that night in the
i strange cafe, when the man with the
black bag seated himself at the table,
where l was quietly slipping my alb
sinthe.
"a wet night, m'sieu." l looked up,
conscious that / was being taken
stock pretty keenly. a queer figure he
was-a little, bent-backed man get
ting well on into years; his coat the
same, if appearances were any guide;
with a pair of eyes which missed
nothing, / am sure, that passed.
"Very."
"But it will be finer SOON"
Doubtless" | answered, civilly;
"the clouds are breaking even now"
Again ] felt that strange glance eye
ing me up and down. | cannot de-
scribe it to you. but there was an
unaccountable air of mystery about
the man which puzzled me. A few
more commonplaces, and then, after
a cautions look round the half-filIed
cafe, almost as if fearing detection
there he drank off the contents of his
| glass at a gulp, took up his bag, and
vanished.
And then 1 caught sight of a card
| staring up at me from the table. |
couldn't help an exclamation, it was
| so queer. I could swear that it was
| not there before he sat down, but for
the life of me l was unable to fix the
| moment of his placing it there, right
in front, of my glass.
Tomorrow at seven, Rue Scribe
go" Those were the words-in print
led characters, not ordinary handwrit-
|, ing-and | stared at them till the
letters seemed to be dividing up at
random and performing grotesque
Il dances before my eyes.
p The mans peculiar demeanor, his
/ evident wish TO escape observation
:
III saw the card; but as for compre-
! bending what it meant, | was totally
| lost. | could only guess, and it was
poor guessing at that. The key to
\ the mystery plainly lay at Rue Scribe
\ &c; and there, after some little cogita-
\ ton, | decided to search for il.
4 A rash resolve? Well, yes-hut at
two-and-twenty an adventure is very
] much like a first kiss to lover. You
| cannot put an old head on young
|, shoulders, mon ami. The card !
| placed in my pocket book for safety;
and then finishing my absinthe, start
|, ed for home.
The little Rue Scribe-a dirty, evil
|. smelling slum in a low quarter-did
h not, however, seem so inviting in the
1 reality as the prospect, when l
] reached there the next evening. | had
Il left word with my fellow ledger where
l was going, in case of unpleasant
! developments.
i "If l am not back at nine" I said,
"something has happened Do not
n lose a moment; come at once in search
\ Sc much precaution, as you will see,
Il No. 26 proved to be a gaunt, three
h stored tenement, even dingier than
the rest; at a first glance one would
b have said that it was deserted. There
Il was no occasion to knock; the instant
l got up to the door it opened eau
tiously two or three inches, and a
mans head became visible. 1t was
my companion of the previous night
\ "A wet night" he sad, slowly.
Then, like an inspiratory fash, the
thing dawned on me. In themselves
fireworks were meaningless; the night
was brilliantly fine. Their significance
lay beneath Without a seconds hest
tation l replied: but the Clouds are
breaking already; il will be finer soon,
my friend"
The effect was magical The door
opened wider in trce, and the bent
janitor's features even took on a smile
of recognition.
''To the right" he murmured, as l
stepped inside; and The door silently
closed again, leaving us in pitch-black
gloom.
l CROPPED along the passage; the
! walls were c,ammy, and occasionally
/ ! started as my hands touched some
thing that crawled away in trace of
slime. The murmur of voices guided
me to room a little way ahead on
| the right. The doorway was screened
by a thick curtain; pushed this aside
and entered.
The room was but dimly lighted, but
this was no hindrance after the inky
blackness of the passage, and it had the
additional merit of shading me from
the observation of those already in
possession. There would be about Is
or 2o-all men; but, much to my re-
lief, no one challenged my entrance,
or seemed inclined to take any notice
of me. Stiffness appeared to be the
key to the whole proceedings; all
were quiet save one group of two or
three in corner who talked together
in carefully guarded tones.