The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1904-12-14
He staggered to his feet. and nr.sseo

He staggered to his feet, and pressed
his hands to his eyes to shut out the
vision that would return. His knees
trembled and his teeth chartered.
Something as white as the moonlight
gathered at his lips.
The woman made an imposing ges-
ture. ooh, see, have put it on again."
and she turned her head that he might
behold the velvet mask.
At the sound of her voice he shiv cred
in terror and, without word, but
making strange moaning noise, he
ran, like one demented, in the direction
of the lighted Casino. And in the still,
white moonlight the Woman in Red
stood like one of the statues of the
terraced garden, its marble purity
turned to scarlet.
The next night she was at her usual
place at the roulette table, but it was
the stupid baron who sat beside her.
"Why don't you play?" he asked,
as she sat motionless and Indifferent,
eyed curiously by the spectators of the
game. She sat up YEARLY and pushed
pile of gold and notes upon the red,
No. II. The croupier started the wheel
revolving rapidly in one direction and
sent the ball deity rolling in the other,
and there was a little buzz of CONVEX
sation. Tongues wagged brisllly while
eyes We're fastened on the whirling
wheel.
What has become of our English
friend?" asked one.
"Gone home" was the answer from
another across the table. perhaps
the heat went to his head!" He tapped
his forehead significantly.
Gradually the wheel slowed down,
and the ball was about to settle in it's
customary click. Gamblers leaned over
the table to see the result of their bets.
The slowly rolling sphere was just
dropping into No. IL! No, it has set
tied in the adjoining compartment.
"Yinght-huit, noir Gagne!" calls out
the croupier with shrill monotony, and
the shining heaps are distributed to the
winners.
"And madame has lost!" exclaimed
the stupid baron, in surprise.
The Woman in Red made no reply,
but stood up and, with an imperious
motion not to follow, walked steadily
from the sale de jeu, vivid bit of
color under the glittering lights of the
splendid apartment.
Eearly the next morning she was
found lying on the marble steps of the
Casino. dead in her scarlet dress. The
stain trailing along the snowy marble
had been scarlet, too, but was now
turning to a reddish brown. In one
fine, strong hand was tightly clutched
folded note. The servants and peo-
pie who gathered in trembling awe
sent for the priest of the church of
Sainte Devote to read it. He came
quickly, painting a little for breath.
Taking the paper from the fingers of
the dead woman, he glanced over it
nervously, while the people looked on
in breathless silence. It was written
in French.
Il will read it." the priest said slow
ly, and he translated the writing in
trembling tones:
L have taken my own life-let that
pass Let no one lift the mask from
my face but the priest of the church
of Sainte Devote, and pray him, when
he knows my secret, to say mass for
my SOUL By all that is holy, respect
these words.'"
AS his solemn voice ceased, those
crowding about shuddered and fell
back in nameless fear. They at once
carried the body of the woman to where
she had lodged, the early morning SIN
cleaning strangely on her scarlet par
ments and yellow hair. The priest en-
tered the house and closed the door
upon the crowd
When he ag1in emerged. he was
hardly recognizable. His face, deadly
white, rwltched and quivered spasmodi-
cally, his eyes protruded and rolled
wildly from side to side, and his lips
were parted in an awful. unholy smile.
His trembling hands could scarcely
hold the crucifi,.. To those who spoke
to him he made no answer-he did not
seem to hear
They buried the woman that evening
at sunset, among the nameless graves
on the hill behind Monte Carlo, as
speedily as possible. When the grim
grotesque companion of the dead was
asked if any one should be sent for
the only answer she would give was:
ooh, the devil, the devil, the devil.
How should I know"
The priest from the church of Sainte
Devote mumbled the service rapidly
and indistinctly over the grave, with
one shaking hand raised in defensive
attitude, as though to Danish something
or still the quaking terror that shook
him from head to foot. When tb!
! ritual was ended he turned 70 .he
dense crowd which no secrecy or word
of authority had been able to keep
away, and said SO sternly and distinct
ly that his voice echoed in the silence:
whatsoever as much as dares tc
touch this grave, upon him pronounce
the everlasting curse of the Holy