The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-05-19
By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN
(Continued.)
Copyrisht. 1919. By Anna Katharine Rohlfs

OIedln struggles up. put my own thumbs on these two dark spots to see if. when What was it-a 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 a pair of burning eyes. Or was it fantasy? For in another mo- ment they were gone. But the possi- bility of person having seen me in this position before the dead was enough to startle me to my feet, and, though in another instant l became convinced that I had been the victim of hallucination. 1 nevertheless made haste to cross to the window and take a look through it's dismal panes. A gale of blinding snow was sweeping past, making all things indistinguish able, but the absence of balcony out side was reaSsuring. and I stepped has tily back. asking myself for the first time what I should do and where should now go to insure myself from being called as a witness to the awful occurrence which had just taken place in this house. Something I must do to save myself the anguish and Carme! the danger of my testimony in this matter. She must never know. the world must never know, that I had seen her here.
 I could not be the death of two wom eu. The loss of one weighed heavily enough upon my conscience. I would fhn n1aaQ-T UnyI1d this ghastly find to tell its own story. The night was stormy, the hour late, the spot a remote one and the road to it but little used. I could easily escape, and when the morrow came But it was the present I must think of now this hour, this moment. How came l to stay so long? Tn feverish haste I be- gan to throw the pillows back over the quiet limbs, the accusing face. Shud deringly 1 hid those eyes q understood the,r strange protuberance rOw) and, recklessly bent on flight, was halfway across the floor when my feet were stayed-I wonder my reason was not unseated-by a sudden and tremendous attack on the great door below, min gled with loud cries to open which ran laundering through the house, calling up innumerable echoes from it's dead and hidden corners
 It was the police. The wild night, the biting storm, had been of no avail An alarm lad reached headquarters, and all hope of escape on my part was at an end. Yet, because at such crises instinct rises superior to req son. I blew out the candle and softly made my way into the hail. I had remembered the window opening over shed at the head of the kitchen staircase. I could reach it from this rear hall by just turn or two, and once on that shed a short leap would land me on the ground, after which I could easily trust to the storm to con- ceal my flight across the open golf links. It was worth trying, at least Anything was better than being found in the house with my murdered be- trothed
 I had no reason to think that I was being sought or that my presence in this building was even suspected. It might well be that the police were even ignorant of the tragedy awaiting them across the threshold of the door they seemed intent on battering down. The gleam of candle burning in this closed up house or even the tale told by the rising smoke may have drawn them from the road to investigate.
 With a spring I reached the window by which hoped to escape and quick ly raised it. A torrent of snow swept in anvnrin0 a moment. It did something more 1t cleared my brain, and remembered my poor horse standing in this blind ing gale under cover of the snow packed pines. Every one knew my horse. I could commit no greater folly than to flee by the rear fields while such a witness to my presence remained in full view in front With the sen sation of a trapped animal rHclosed the window and cast about for safe corner where I could lie concealed until I learned what had brought these men here and how much really had to fear from their presence.
 I had but little time in which to choose. The door below had just giv- en way, and party of at least three men were already stamping their feet free from snow in the hall. l did not like the tone of their voices; it was too low and steady to suit me. had rather have heard drunken cries or a burst of wild hilarity than these stern and purposeful whispers. Men of res olution could have but one errand here. My doom was closing round me. ] could only put off the fatal moment. But it was better to do this than to plunge headlong into the unknown fate awaiting me.
 knew of possible place of conceal ment. 1t was in the ballroom not far from where l stood. I remembered the spot we'll It was at the top of a little staircase leading to the musi- clans gallery. A balustrade guarded this gallery, supported by boarding wide enough to hide man lying be- hind it at his full length. It would offer me the double advantage of con- cealment and an unobstructed view of what went on in the hall through the main doorway opening directly oppo- site. 1 could reach this ballroom and its terminal gallery without going around to this door. A smaller one communicated directly with the corri- flor in xrhich fhou lr1rEinc and