The Breckenridge news. (Cloverport, Ky.) 1876-1955, 1911-07-12
BY ANNA
KATHARINE
GREEN
CHAPTER ii.
"oPENw
Copyright 1910.
BY Anna Katharine RohIfs

nrSt Thought III WIS natural
one. the result undoubtedly Of
having noticed two small cordial
glasses standing on a little table over
against the fireplace When was
conscious again of my own fears
crossed to the table and peered into
these glasses. They were not club
glasses, and they both were empty.
However, they had not been so long.
In each found traces of anisette
cordial, and. though no bottle stood
near, was very confident that 1t
could readily be found somewhere In
the room. What had preceded and
followed the drinking of this cordialf
Alas. there was but little more to
see! A pair of curling irons lay on
the hearth. but had no sooner lifted
them than dropped them with a
shudder Of unspeakable loathing, only
to start at the noise they made in
striking the tiles, for IL was the
selfsame noise had heard when
listening from below. These tongs.
set up against the side of the fire.
place. had been Jared down by the
forcibe shutting of the large front
door, and no man other than myself
was In the house or had been in the
house-only the two women. a stick
or two still smodered on the hearth.
stone. In the ashes lay some scat
tered fragments. of paper which
crumbleG ut my touch. On the floor
in front | espied only stray hairpiD.
Everything else was in place through
out the room except the cushions and
that horror on the lounge. waiting the
second look | had so far refrained
from giving it.
That look could no longer with
hold. | must know the depth OF the
gulf over which hung must not
wrong with a thought one who had
smiled upon me like an angel of light
q young girl. TOO. with the dew of in
nocence on her beauty to every eye but
mine and only not to nine within
shall say ten awful pinutes?
would look again and perhaps discover
that my own eyes had been at fault;
that there were no MARKS on Adelaide's
throat, or, if marks. not just the ones
my fancy had painted there.
Turning, | let my glance fall first on
the feet. had not noted them before.
and was startled 10 see that the arc
tics in which they were clad were filed
all around with snow. She had walked
then as the other was walking now
she who detested every effort and
was of such delicate make that exer-
ton of unusual kind could not readily
be associated with her. Had she come
alone or in Carmers company. and. If
in CarmePs company, on what osten-
sible errand if not that of death? Her
dress. which was of dark wool. showed
that she had changed her garments
for this trip. / had seen her at dinner,
and this was not the gown she had
worn then-the gown in which she
had confronted me during those few
intolerable minutes when | could not
meet her eyes. Nothing spoke of the
dinner party or of her having been
dragged here unaware. but all of pre-
vious intent and generalization. Surely
hope was getting uppermost. If had
dreamed the marks
But, no! There they were. unmistak-
able and damning. just where the
breath struggles up. put my own
thumbs on these two dark spots to see
II, when What was tia lightning
stroke or a call of fate which one
must answer while sense remains?
felt my head pulled around by some
unseen force from behind and met
staring into mine through the glass of
the window pair of burning eyes.
Or was it fantasy? For in another mo.
ment they were gone But the possi-
bility of a person having seen me in
this position before the dead was
enough to startle me to my feet, and,
though IN another instant | became
convinced that | had been the victim
OF haIlucination. | nevertheless made
haste TO cross TO the window ana take
a look through its dismal panes. A
gale of binding snow was sweeping
past, making all things indlstinguish.
able. but the absence of balcony out
side was reassuring. and l stepped has
tily back. asking myself for the first
time what | should do and where
should now go TO insure myself from
Delng called as witness 10 the awful
occurrence which had just taken place
In this house. Something | must do to
save myself the anguish and Carmel
the danger Of my testimony In this
matter. She must never know, the
world must never know. that had
seen her here.
could not be the death Of two wom-
en-. The loss Of one weighed heavily
enough upon my conscience. | would
1y the place-I would leave this
CHASTITY find to tell its own story. The
night was stormy. the hour late, the
spot a remote one and the road to IL
but little used I could easily escape.
and when the morrow came But II
was the present must think OF now
this hour. this moment. How came
TO stay so longf In feverish haste I be-
gan 70 throw the pillows back over the
quiet limbs, the accusing face Shud-