The Bridgeport evening farmer. [volume] (Bridgeport, Conn.) 1866-1917, 1911-08-14
(Continued.)
CHAPTER X.

S11AI LIN ~.
THE HOUSE OF THE RED DEATH.
down the ridge a
txlI low word from Croisset
m4RHN stopped the engineer. Jean
Q81iD had toggled his team with
stout length of babeesh on the noun
tain top, and he was looking back when
Rowland turned toward him. The
sharp edge of the part of the noun
tain from which they were descending
stood out in clear cut line against the
sky, and on this edge the six dogs of
the team sat squat on their launches,
silent and motionless, like strangely
carved gargoyles placed there to guard
the limitless plains below. Rowland
tooK his pipe from his mouth as he
watched the staring interest of Crois-
set. From the man he looked up again
at the dogs. There was something in
their sphinxlike attitude, in the move
less reaching Of their muzzles out into
TIE wonderful starht mystery Of the
still night, that filled hiIl with an in
definable sense Of awe. Then there
came to his ears the sound that had
stopped CrOisset "a low, moaning
whine which seemed to have neither
beginning nor end, but which was
borne in on his senses as though it
were a part OF the soft movement of
the air he breathed-a note of infinite
sadness, which held him startled and
without movement, as it held Jean
Croisset. And just as he thought that
the thing had died away the wailing
came again, rising higher and higher,
until at last there rose over him q
single long howl that chilled the blood
to his very marrow. 1t was like the
wolf howl of that first night he had
looked on the wilderness, and yet un-
like it. In the first it had been the cry
Of the savage, of hunger, of the unend-
ing desolatien of life that had thrilled
him. In this it was death. He stood
shivering as Croisset came down to
him, his thin face shining white in the
starlight. There was no other sound
save the excited beating Of life in their
own bodies when Jean spoke.
.'M'seur, our dogs howl like that
only when some one is dead or about
to de- he whispered. at was Woon-
ga who gave the cry. He has lived for
eleven years, and / have never known
him to fall
There was an uneasy CLEAN in his
eyes.
81 must tie your hands, m'seur."
"But l have given you my word,
Jeaa.'
"Your hands, m'seur. There is al
ready death below us in the plain, or it
is to come very soon. 1 must tie your
hands,
Rowland thrust his wrists behind
him, and about them Jean twisted a
thong of babeesh.
~ believe 1 understand" he spoke
softly, listening again for the chilling
wall from the mountain top. you
are afraid that 1 will kill you
1T is warning, m'seur. You might
try. But 1 should probably kill you.
AS it is''-he shrugged his shoulders as
he led the way down the ridge-'as it
Is, there is small chance Of Jean Crois-
set answering the call"
May those saints of yours preserve
me, Jean, but this is all very cheerful"
spite of himself. "NOw that I'm tied
I'D again, who the devil is there to die
but me?"
THAT is a hard question, m'seur,' y
replied the half breed, with grim seri-
BUSINESS. Perhaps it is your turn,
half believe that it Isl
Scarcely were the words out of his
mouth when there came again the
moaning howl from the top of the
ridge.
You're getting on my nerves, Jean
you and that accused dog!'
silence, m'seurr'
Out of the grim loneliness at the
foot of the mountain there doomed q
shadow, which at first Rowland took
to be a huge mass of rock. A few
steps farther and he saw that it was a
building. Croisset gripped him firmly
by the arm
"sta- here.' he commanded. 81 will
return on"
For a quarter of an hour Rowland
w4.ited. Twice in that interval the dog
howled above him. He was glad when
Croisset appeared out of the gloom.
1T is as thought, m'seur. There is
death down here Come with me-"
The shadow of the big building
shrouded them az they approached
Rowland could make out that it was
built Of massive logs and that there
seemed to be neither door nor window
on their side. And yet when Jean hest
tated for an instant before blotch of
gloom that was deeper than the others
he knew that they had come to an en-
trance.
Rowland could feel the half breeds
hand clutch him nervously by the arm
as they weht step by step into the
black and silent mystery of the place.
Soon there came a fumbling of Crois-
sets hand at a latch, and they passed
through a second door. Then Jean
struck a match.
Half dozen steps away was table
and on the table a lamp. Croisset
lighted it and with a quiet laugh faced
the engineer. They were in a low,
dungeon-hke chamber without a win
dow and with but the one door
Trough which thSy had entered. The
t.s!e, ssTJ chairs, :. stove and bunk
built against one of the log walls were