Lower coast gazette., 1910-12-24

and the fact that | did not introduce
YOU to her that afternoon was the
cause of our only disagreement. Be-
fore her death she and often dis
cusstd the possibility OF the spirit
making itself manifest to mortalS.
and We resolved that, which ever died
first, he or she would return to give
proof Of immortality to the other.
Her death. as you know, was
comparatively sudden. She fingered
in a semi-cOnsCious state for perhaps
two hours after We realized that the
end was approaching. Toward the
last her mind grew clearer, and she
motioned to me to bend over her. In
q very weak voice she told me that
she going to give me the proof she
had always spoken of. She would, II
possible, play for me the seventh
symphony Of Beethoven upon her Gel
10. 1t was her favorite piece, and
mine. And then, just before she died.
she spoke your name.
After her death I was wild with
grief. | locked away all her posses
sions in a room of our apartment and
would not allow anyone to touch
them. I travelled for some months,
and arrived back last week. Time
had softened my excess of sorrow, as
| suppose it must. though the grief
will. | know, be permanent. And
then, for the first time. | dared to
think of her promise. But so great
was my dread of disappointment that
for several days | could not bring my
self to unlock the door of the Don
in which her things were stored. III
nally I brought myself to it, took out
her bow and cello, which had rested
there, untuned, untouched, for
months, and placed them in my room
and waited in the darkness. But moth
ing occurred, and at last | went to bed
and soon fell into a sound sleep.
1T must have been shortly after
midnight that I awoke with a start.
I had dreamed of hideous discords.
and the dream was verified. Upon
my ears there burst the widest, most
terrible medley Of sounds that | have
ever heard. They crashed out upon
the instrument in the most grotesQue
manner imaginable, and yet, horrible
as it was the time and accumulation
seemed to be those of the seventh
symphony.
You can imagine my horror. |
sprang from the bed and struck a
match. Instantly the sounds ceased,
and yet, when | drew near, | saw the
strings q~uivering, as though the hand
of the ghostly visitant had barely left
them. That nigh: l heard no more.
but every night since then that hor-
rible noise awakens me at the same
time. It lasts about as long as the
time of the symphony: and it is al
ways the same. | know the fearful
tune by heart-if tune it can be called.
And all day long it haunts. me in i'm
a%gination. So | should have gone
mad if the remembrance of you had
not suddenly come to me last night
when I was at the summit of my suf-
fering. | took the first train from
New York this morning, found
your address in the telephone book,
and have come to beg you to solve the
mystery. Have I gone insane apd do
| imagine it? Or is it that my wife
has forgotten music in her present
condition of existence? If that be So,
If character so change, what does re-
main of us? Or is it some devil that
has come back to mock and torture
me"
He ceased, and, overcome by his
emotion, leaned his head upon his
his hand and regarded Brodsky intent
ly. In his eyes there vas the look of
some hunted animal.
you are satisfied that these sounds
are produced without any human
agency?' he asked.
Absolutely" the young man re-
piled. Moreover, they are produced
by some intelligent being, for the
sounds are precisely the same on each
occasion. It is almost as though some
travesty of the seventh symphony
had been written out, so identical is
each performance with the last"
Then" said Brodsky, you have &C.
tually the proof of Immortality that
you demanded. What matter the de-
tails of it? Why seek further elucida-
ton? Is it that the human heart will
not believer"
"No," replied Celaye steadily. 1T
is because / fear that the sounds are
made by some devil assuming her
identity"
well, we'll have to go and see,"
returned the doctor. Its no use
forming hypothesis. To-day we have
some work that must be finished
here; tomorrow my assistant and l
will be at your apartment at seven
in the evening"
Celaye departed reluctantly, leaving
us an address in that portion Of New
York city that adjoins Columbia uni.
versity. On arriving at his apart
ment house, a plain, but comfortable
looking structure, the elevator boy
took us up to where Celaye stood
waiting for us in the passage.
"I've been too nervous to go inside"
he said. I've been scanning the ele-
vator each time it came up until peo-
pie must have thought me highly in.
quisitive, not to say impertinent.
Come in and have some dinner"
The inside of the apartment was
Ii r.