The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1904-05-27
THE VIKINGS SKULL
A Tale of a Mystery and Its Solution


satlon on other topics
The talk turned presently upon htera-
ture, and Idris, remembering that Lorene
was an author, said:
Lady Walden. will you not give US a
reading from your play?"
20. YES, doi'' cried Beatrice. inpulsively.
Lorelie hesitated. The drama written by
her had been work Of time and patience:
IL was as near perfection as she would
ever be able to bring it: she had poured
her noblest feelings into the work. But she
knew that what seems good TO the author
often seems bad to the critic: that the
thoughts. supposed 10 be original. prove 70
be merely echoes of what others have said
before in far better language: that the line
that separates elOquence from bombaSt is
easll passabe on the wrong side.
These were the motives diSposing Lorelie
TO keep her tragedy TO herself. The person
who should have been the first TO give
encouragement on this occasion was mute;
for War maintained air of Indifference.
Deserves kicking" was Idris's secret
comment. as he became conscious of a sug-
gestion of humiliation in Lorelie's manner,
due 10 her husbands want of appreciation.
And he added TO himself. Il should very
much like to do the kicking.
Moved at last by the solicitations OF her
two visitors. Lorelie produced the manu-
script of her play and prepared TO read
some portions of II.
This drama of mine, 1.-The Fatal Skull"
she began, derives its name from the cen
trail incident in it-an incident OF early
Italian history. Albion, King of Lom-
bards, had become enamored of Rosamond
the beautiful daughter of Cunimund. King
of the Gepids Both father and daughter
however rejected the suit for Lombards
and Gepids had long been at feud. Embas-
| sizes having failed. Albion resolved to attain
his object by force, and, accordingly, en-
| tered the territories OF Cunimund with an
army. In the battle that followed, the
| Gepid King was slain his force put to rout,
and his daughter Rosamond became the
prize and the reluctant bride of the con-
queror Albion"
How dreadful murmured Beatrice, Ito
be compelled TO marry the man who had
| slain her father"
The squel is more dreadful" returned
Lorelie THE death of Cunimund was not
sufficient to satiate the hatred of Albion;
the skull of the fallen King fashioned into
| drinking cup became the most treasured
ornament of his sdeboard.
| , roasting one day with his compa Mons
Cunmund. The cup of victory'-to quote
| the words of Gibbon-'was accepted with
horrid applause by the circle of the Lom-
bard chiefs. Fill ii again with wine,' ex-
| claimed the inhuman conqueror, ell ii TO
| the brim; carry this goblet to the Queen,
and request in my name that she would re-
| Jolce with her father" In an agony of
utter, Let the will of my lord be obeyed,"
and, touching it with her lips. pronounced
a silent imprecation that the insult should
| be washed away in the blood of Albion "
And did she kill her husband?" asked
Beatrice.
Yes. with the help of his armor-bearer
Having thus set forth the argument Lore
| lie, unfolding her manuscript. began to read
certain scenes from her play. The reading
| of them was revelation both to Idfis and
| Beatrice: there was masculine vigor in the
| lines; the thoughts were as noble as the
were original, and graced by many poetic
images and by passages of exquisite
| beauty.
Charmed by the melody of Lorelies voice,
| charmed still more by the lovely face set in
| frame of dark hair, Idris sat entranced,
| with something more than admiration in his
eyes. And as Beatrice observed the rapt
attitude his accelerated breathing. she
| trembled uneasily; not for herself. but for
| Lorelie. In the near future, when the young
| viscountess should have come TO learn the
worthlessness of her husband. and to ex-
| perience the misery of existence with him,
would she have sufficient strength and
purity of soul to resist the temptation to
flying to the arms of Idris? Their meet
ing with each other was a foolish playing
| with fire, and could have but one ending.
Beatrice ceased to listen to the reading
of the play, and grew miserable with her
Lady Walden" said Idris. when she had
finished her recital, your drama is work
of real genius
His praise was sweeter to Lorelie than the
praise of a thousand other critics, and her
| check flushed with triumph.
| "You certainly ought to have it put upon
| the stage" he continued
| Yes" chimed in 1var: for even his sullen
| nature had been moved to admiration: you
must not hide your light under bushel. If
one is a genius, let the world know it,"
IF this play should ever be acted" said
Lorele, then let me take the chief part in
it. Who more fit to play the role of Rosa
| mond than the creator of Rosamond?"
| "Well, whenever you desire to begin re-
hearsals," said Idris, jocularly. Miss
Ravengar can supply you with one item
of stage property in the shape of a real
SKULL
but you would not drink from a real
skull?' said Beatrice.
1T would add to the effect" smiled Lore
Drink from a real skull? All, how hor-
ridi'' exclaimed Beatrice.
In reciting the words OF the wronged and
indignant Queen, Lorelie had caught the
genuine spirit of the character; and now,
inspired by the idea of becoming its ex-
ponent upon the stage, she rose to her
feet her eyes sparkling with the light of
future triumph
AS she stood upon the hearth in statues
que pose. she seemed to be the very queen
of tragedy, to be breathing, as it were,
the air OF vengeance; a spirit so contrary
to her usual sweet self that 1rdis did not
like to witness its assumption, however
suitable ii may have been to the character
of the fierce Rosamond.
81 can see the eyes of the theater riveted
upon me- she murmured, picturing TO her
self the future representation of her drama,
"as l enter tho banqueting hall of the Lom-
bard chiefs, and advance to drink from the
fatal cup! How the audience will thrill
as they watch How awful the silence as
Rosamond places her lips to her fathers
skull!''
She illustrated her words by taking the
|
through the action OF drinking from it,
shuddering as she did so; though whether
her shudder mere stimulation, or a real
thing occasioned by the supposed nature
of it's contents was more than Idris could
tell.
And when the hour for vengeance came
1 would rise to the height of the occasion,
and strike down Albion-sor'
| Drawing from her hair long and gleam-
ing hairpin shaped like a stiletto. she went
through the motion of stabbing an imagi-
nary figure.
"'Dier" she exclaimed, in an exultant
tone. and quoting the words of her play
- This Rosamond sends "
There was a weird roll of her glitterine
eyes as she flung out her left hand tightly
clenched: a swiftness and ferocty in the
| downward stroke of the Stiletto in heT
right so suggestive of real murder that
Idris glanced at her feet, almost expecting
to a human figure lying there.
Beatrice gave a cry of genuine terror
Ivar looked on with evident admiration.
For few seconds Lorelie maintained a
terror, staring at the hearth as If she be-
startling in its suddenness she recovered
her erect attitude. and reeled backward
with her lifted hand cienched upon her
brow. The stiletto dropped from her limr
fingers and the peculiar ringing sound pro-
duced by its contact with the tiled hearth
was fresh in Idriss ears for many DAYS
| Afterwards.
'A-a-ahr" she cried in a long-drawr
thrilling sibilant whisper, which, neverthe-
| less penetrated to every corner of the
| apartment, and again quoting from her