The silver messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1890-1912, 1904-02-16

front of me, and there, but few feet
away, stood gray, silent human fig
ure.
Felix, is that you?" 1 said. And
won't be positive that there was not
the suspicion of a culver in my voice.
There came no answer the ques-
ton, and the figure commenced to
glide away down the passage.
Without waiting to get thoroughly
frightened | followed it, quickening
my pace little. The mysterious
form did the same.
Along and along we went, twisting
and turning among the labyrinth of
passages, and then at last, coming
round half-open door-the door of
the library, where my husband was
l darted forward, feeling quite
brave, now that / was in the vicinity
of Felix. But / was 700 late. The
form glided into the room, silently
closing the door, and heard the key
turning in the lock.
stood there for moment or two
puzzled, doubtful, alarmed. All at
once there rushed upon me horrible
presentiment of impending doom, and
with it a wild, irresistible desire to
learn what was going on in that room.
l tried the door. 1t was securely
locked. A few yards down the pas
sage, high up in the wall, was small
window looking into the library. Di-
rectly underneath it was a heavy oak
table. Onto that table l scrambled
and glued my eyes to the dust-dimmed
pane.
Shall ever forget what 1 saw? L
have dreamed of it thousand times,
and awakened shuddering in an agony
of terror.
Felix! Felix, turn roundl Look!"
Those were the words l shrieked as
| dashed my bare hand through the
window and withdrew it, bleeding.
And my warning was not moment
too soon. AS my husband knelt in a
corner over pile of books, the tall,
white-haired figure was already close
on him, an appraised, weighted stick in
his hand, the raging fire of insanity
cleaning in his eyes.
But l was just in time. On hearing
my voice my husband sprang round,
caught the. descending stick on his
arm, and closed with his adversary in
a fearful life and death struggle.
Thank heaven, 1 was not entirely
impotent. With a cry of encourage
ment to my husband l sprang down,
pushed up my skirts, and raced back
n h.n I 7
had run before. I knocked against
furniture in the darkness, ] stumbled
and fell; but still, impelled as by a
supernatural force, rushed on.
Through the picture gallery went,
down the second corridor, across the
hall, into the drawing-room.
must have looked a remarkable
figure as I rushed in among my guests.
My hand was bleeding and the blood
had stained my white evening gown.
My hair was half down, my dress was
torn. But what did appearances mat
ter to me?
THE madman!" l gasped, painting
for breath. 1.-THE escaped mailman!
He has got into the east wing, and
Felix-my husband-we must burst
the door open. Come! Comet"
All eyes were turned upon me, but
not a soul offered to move.
Don't you understand me?" cried,
wringing my hands in my impotence.
There is not moment to lose. My
husband is fighting for his life! Why
don't you come? Mr.. Fleetwood, you
hear me? Have pity-have pity!
"You will be too late!" l screamed,
in perfect frenzy. Felix will be
dead-strangled by that madman's
fingers-strangle strangled!"
I repeated that awful word scarce
knowing what 1 said. The blood was
rushing wildly in my head. began to
feel, clutching desperately at the air.
And then, of sudden, strange, half
remembered sound rippled through
the room-a sound terrible to listen to
at first, yet giving me in the end an
inkling of the truth
1t was the sound of hands clapping
in applause. They thought was act
ing!
stormed and raved and shrieked as
surely no actress could or would.
entreated and implored, and struggled
the while with the feeling of faintness
and numbness that was stealing over
me.
And then, at length, seeing that my
efforts to make them understand were
utterly useless, / suddenly stopped
and summoned up smile as I listened
to their applause and congratulations
Somehow or other | induced them
to follow me from the room, telling
them that 1 had something to show
them in the east wing-a further en-
tertainment, which my husband and
l had prepared. Their curiosity was
whetted, and they consented to
dawdle along behind me, laughing and
chattering the while.
Only when they heard that last
despairing cry of Felix did Fleetwood
and one or two of the other men begin
to gain a glimmer of the truth. 1t was
with ever-increasing alarm that they
hurried forward, and tried to force
the library door, and, finally using the
oak table as a ram, burstit open.
All of which Irecollect as sometime