The Montgomery advertiser., 1905-05-20
THE SHADOW ON THE SNOW
BY ANITA sILvANI.

People often wonder that I do not like to see snow. the beautiful, soft, white snow. that covers the earth with it's mantle of purity. but when tell all that the snow brings back to me and the terrors it wakes into life again no one will wonder at my nervous dread of winters night and my dislike to the silently falling snow, which deadens the sound of every ] footstep.
 i AS a girl I lived in the country with my Uncle Richard Avoumore. a Ichildless widower. whose wife had died in the first few years of their married life. and though I never heard all the story. I understood that her death was due to a terrible shock she had got in hearing suddenly of some disgrace or crime connected with her only brother. My uncle lived as a lonely and melancholy recluse after that, till the deaths of both my pa- rents led him to offer a home to me. his orphan niece. and the affection be- | tween us soon became great.
 1 I was about seventeen when one af- ternoon early in December. was amusing myself sitting on the top of the library steps and dipping into one old book after another. The grey dusk had crept over the garden as I sat there and one candle I had put beside me on the library ladder threw a flickering light into the long, low oakpanelled old room, and as slight noise at the window caused me to look | round I saw the figure of man in an Inverness cape and with travel ling cap drawn down over his ears. outlined against the misty background of the garden while the light of my candle fell upon his face, which was pressed against the glass.
 An! what a face 1t was! So evil in expression! So wolfish in the hum gry envy with which the comforts of the room inspired him! His sunken cheeks were. covered by short growth of bristly beard. and his hol- ! low eyes glittered with unnatural brightness like those of an opium eater, but 1t was no drug that gave the horrible wild beast ferocity to those haggard features. only some all-ab- sorbing passion which had become as the very soul of the man could do that. For whom or what were those hungry eyes seeking? | For one brief minute the man at the window looked into my eyes and I looked back into his. spellbound and dumb like a bird fascinated by the gaze of a snake. Then I gave a great lcry and in my fright tumbled off the ladder.
 The face at the window vanished, and my uncle hurried in. His face grew pale as told him what had l seen. are a sensible girl-do not speak of this man to anyone. Do not say you have seen him. Shut the shutters and l with them shut out the memory of that face" He was so agitated, so different from his usual calm self. that I could only stare at him and mutters feebly. "Yes, uncle-Oh, yes" winter fell, and by night when it had ceased falling and the moon shone out the garden was like a fairy scene, and I sat at my bedroom win dow in the dark, looking out at 1t, for I felt too restless to go to bed. and night had brought back to me the fear which haunted me as I thought of the face I had seen.
 | I was watching the sharply defined 1 shadows of the gable roofs and tall chimney stacks which the moonlight | threw upon the graveI walk before the house, and then I saw another shadow-the shadow of man-the shadow of that very man in the Inver- ness cape whom I had seen the eve- ming before. It was thrown upon the snowy ground as though he stood near the corner of the west wing, and though he was hidden the moon threw his shadow beyond the wall of the house. He seemed to have a long knife in his hands and to be feeling the sharpness of the blade. Then he moved away and I sprang up and hurried downstairs to warn my un- cle, whom knew to be still in the dining room.
 | The house was a large, rambling | old mansion and our neiRhbornood was so peaceful the servants were often careless as to fastening the windows at night As my flying feet reached the library door I saw that 1t stood open. and could feel the cold breeze blow in from the window. The ter rible, paralyZing fear which had made me dumb before came over me again, and I half paused irresolute and un- able to pass. That moment was fatal | to me. Had I rushed on I would nave escaped; had cried out someone would have heard, but I was dumb. and my feet were like leaden weights. 1 The next moment the man had sprung upon me like one of the thugs of In neck and I was dragged, half choked, into the room In wonder I did not die from fear then and there.
 The man gagged me and bound me and stuck me up In a chair, limp, helpless bundle. while he locked the door
 "One." he chuckled softly "Oner' and very neatly caught. I shall have him next" He stood glaring at me and muttering to himself in high glee. Then he said:
 Do you know who I ami Where I come from?"
 l shook my head
 | Well, then I come from a prison cell, where I have spent twenty years all my youth!-all the days I meant should be so full of pleasure-and all that time Dick Avonmore has been spending old Jaspar's money-the money I killed old Jaspar to gain. l They say you are Dicks heiress, but you shall never have my money. I will kill you first, and then him.
 He shook me by the shoulder and put his savage face so close to mine that his hot breath famed my cheek, and I saw that the eyes which looked Into mine were the eyes of a mad man.
 q am Jaspar Carnworth. was brought up as old Jaspar's heir, but understand that youth must have it's made no use of his money and to me 1t meant salvation! Salvation from all my debts and duns-I could not get one sixpence to save my soul l-no! not even when I begged on my knees for it. He laughed his miserly little laugh and told me to go and be hanged. Then I grabbed him to shake the miserable life out of him, and he fell off the chair and hit his head and lay stunned and the thought came to me to dash his head harder on the corner of the iron fender and so kill him outright. I thought I was his heir, but he had made a new will and left all his money to my sister,