The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1911-03-15

darkness seemed to be holding some
dreadful, stolid, lethargic thing thai
sprawled from horizon to horizon.
} A small, noiseless clock was huns
beside the bed. She could see it's pale
face in the light Of the thick ground
Iglass bulb that served as night lamp
1t was nearly four o'clock.
She twisted back the tawny brown
surge of her hair, rose and dressed
as hastily as she could in the lurching
space. Then she opened the door and
passed into the saloon. A roll of the
yacht slammed the cabin door and
left her in darkness. She felt for the
electric switch, but before she could
find it, another movement sent her
Keeling against stand. She threw
out her arm to stay her fall and
struck something.
There was clicking sound, a soft
whir, and then the music of samisen
filled the dark room. She realized that
she had staggered against the phono-
graph in the corner and that the shock
had started it's mechanism. Wincing,
she CROPPED her way to chair and sat
down trembling.
| The music died away. There was a
pause, a sharp click, a curious con-
fusion of sounds and then husky and
fllmy, human voice:
Barbara
She caught her hands to her throat,
her blood chilling to ice. 1t was the
voice of Austen Ware, speaking, it
seemed to her, from the world beyond.
She crouched back, breathing fast and
hard, while the voice went on, in
strange broken periods, threaded by a
whir and clamor that seemed the noise
of the wind outside.
what is that knocked over? It's
buzzing and wheels are turning in it
or is it the pain? Can't you stop it,
Barbara? No, know you aren't here,
really. I'm all alone. l must
be light headed How stupid"
The strange truth came to her in a
stab of realization. What she heard
was no supernatural voice. In it's fall
that night the monographs spring had
been released and the Samisen record
had registered also the delirious NUT
tering OF the dying man. She felt her
self shuddering violently.
II can't go any farther. You
you've done it for me, Phil. 1t :.
was the second blow. 1t seemed to
crash right through !"
Barbara's heart was beating to
bursting. "Austen, Austen" she whis-
pered to herself in an agony Tell
me! Was it Phil? You can't know
what you're saying!"
mo one must know it! The law
would no, no! What good
would it do now? He's bad egg, but
l !. l was always proud of the
family name. Barbara! Remember,
it wasn't Phil! 1t wasn't Phil"
She fell on her knees, her hands
clasping the arms of the chair, thrill
ing to the truth beneath that pitiful
denial Phil, not Daunt! The man
she had loved had no stain of blood
on his soul. She sobbed aloud. With
the whir of the machinery there mixed
a grating, scratching discord, as
though an automaton had attempted
to laugh.
"How ridiculous it seems to die like
this! Only this morning was so near
-. so near to what l wanted most.
1t was your losing the locket that
checkmated me. Why couldn't have
found it instead of Phil? Did
tell you | was there that day, Bar
bara-behind the shikiri, when you fol-
lowed the Japanese girl into the
house? l could see just what you were
thinking would never have
told you the truth never"
With faint cry Barbara dragged
herself backward. In the illusion, ev-
erything about her for the instant van
ished. The yachts walls had rolled
away. She was on a gloomy hillside,
and a stricken man was speaking
confessing.
Again the CHASTITY attempt to laugh.
"A cOntemDtible thing wasn't iti I
knew that I've I've felt it
l never seemed contemplate to my
self before. But l should have had