Camas Prairie chronicle. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1901-1917, 1906-10-19

inclination to dwell on that journey. Il
was very late when we rolled into the
station OF the good town Of Leipa!c,
where we spent the night at a convenient
hotel. Yet it was at an early hour that
Graden reused me from a tired sleep to
catch the Posen express. The country
through which we now journeyed was Of
melancholy similitude, and the broad
plains, though reasonably cultivated, af-
tected me with a mental depression
which the CHEEKY efforts of my companion
could not conquer. The day was draw
ing to its close as we reached Posen and
passed through that fortress city into
land of desolation. Gloomy pine woods,
great lakes on which the dying sun threw
patches of ruddy gold, forlorn heaths
and swamps that, as / ina ined, could
scarcely be equaled. for sheer dismalness
OF aspect, slid by US in a never-ending
chain. Save for the eastern sky, glori-
fed by the fiery sunset, the heavens were
obscured by pOnderous clouds of muddy
grey that foretell the first snow of win
ter. Darkness had fallen when we
changed carriages at a junction; but IL
was close upon midnight before my
cousin, who had been sitting with o Con-
tinental Bradshaw on his knees, thrust
his head out of the window and cried
that the lights of Lemsdorf were in
sight Our luggage was piled upon an
Anticipated cab and in ten minutes more
the host of the 'Goldner Adler thin,
handsome Pole, was bowling a stately
welcome to his guests. Supper-and then
to bed.
The room assigned to me was an oak
paneled apartment of considerable size,
and the single candle with which l was
provided seemed only to deepen the lurk-
ing shadows round the walls. The huge
china stove failed to warm a place SO
thoroughly ventilated by draughts. At
another time the cause of our journey,
combined with the uncanny nature of
these surroundings, might have acted on
my nerves. But 1 was too weary, too
angry with my present discomfort, to
give opportunity to fanciful terrors. The
bed was small, and in all probability
damp. took off my coat, rolled my
self In a thick travelling rug, heaped the
clothes upon me, and blowing out the
candle had placed on a table at my ell
bow, lay down to sleep.
How long l may have slept cannot
say, but l was awakened by a sudden
fash of light that struck like a blow
through the darkness. For a score of
seconds, it may have been, l lay mo-
tionless. The room was in utter dark
ness and silence Then heard a foot
fall, a creaking of a door. 1 sprang
from my bed, only to trip and fall heavily
over the rug which l had carried with
me. CROPPED for the table, found it, and
lit the candle, crouching, half expectant
of some attack when l should reveal my
self. looked keenly about me-the room
was empty.
But had had a visitor, for the door
was still ajar. ran to 1t, shading the
light with my hand, peered down the
passage. There was no one visible.
returned to the room, this time locking
the door securely. Perhaps, after all,
reasoned, there had been no cause for
my alarm. Some fellow-guest might have
mistaken his chamber, retiring quickly
on discovering his error. This argument
heartened me, for, to be honest, l was
shaken not a little. l examined the room
carefully, without result. and then, after
composing cigarette, slipped back into
bed, leaving the candle burning in the
center Of the room.
Ito be cOntlnued.)