Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-06-13
CHAPTER XII.
Beware Strange Doors.

1 struggled fiercely to free myself. Blu,
strong hands held me and / was at q
disadvantage: the blanket which had beer
cast over my head was not q fresh one
being full Of dust that got into my eyes
and lungs and made them burn as with
pepper. Still the contest was not all or
one side, for / fought as a man fights
for his life. So about the room we
swayed and dragged and whirled, now
smack against the door, now bump
against the wall. now thump over the ia
BILE. Blindly I stroye to direct the fight
to the window. where by hurting one or
another of US against the frame should
smash the panes and arouse passers-by
or neighbors by the clatter: but 1 had
lost all sense of direction, and, moreover.
my captors pushed my thrashing body as
well as they were able toward the rear
of the room.
be maintained. Finally. one assailant.
who had been hanging upon my back
with the tenacity and the dead weight
Of a veritable Old Man OF the Sea. got
his arm under my chin. forced back my
head. and choked out Of my frame both
breath and resistance. Then q rope was
and kick administered. and I was hat
led, half dragged up the stair. along the
upper floor. up second flight or steps
and into what | knew must be the upper
story. There l was thrust upon stool.
All the while l kept silent: indeed. it
was only by an effort that I could gain
my breath and keep from Sitting in the
foul folds of the blanket. -Afterward.
while | was held in a rigid position, the
rope was readjusted SO as TO bind me To
T. o,.lf iarl- a1
my head.
Pilon and Esper and Descarte stood be-
fore me, disheveled, sweating and still
breathing heavily from their exerttons.
deep scratch furrowed one OF Des-
carte's cheeks, where / had shut my hand
on 1t and worked minor damages, he
wiped the dripping blood with a rag.
shooting wicked glances my way and
muttering to himself. Esper wore hts
furtive, pickering smile and showed least
had hung on my back and thus remained
.out Of the chief current OF the struggle.
The leader, Pilon. stood in front: he
rested his hands on his hips. painting and
for the moment beyond speech.
Mon Dieu! That was q merry dance :"
Esper remarked. airily. My compli-
ments. comrade, but IL was hopeless. Ell?
You should have taken the matter calmly
Observe, you do not look exactly like
gentleman now.
Precipitation streamed down my face,
washing rivulets through the dust on my
cheeks: my hair stood every way and my
clothes were in a state of high disorder
collar rumpled, tie gone. coat ripped: but
l had the satisfaction of perceiving that
while had suffered in appearances Pilon
and Descarte had also paid good toll
This was small comfort however.
was a prisoner-beware of strange doors.
indeed. I had walked neatly into the
trap which had been set for me: come
Lavouche to hold danger for me, there
was none save this of Pilon's house:
should have known that. And Del Her
wales plot was forward at last. Where
might be on the morrow was a thought
from which / Shrunk: was in the power
of my enemies-my life was In jeopardy
looked about my prison. The room
was. as / have stated. the third and up
permost story Of the house. indeed.
sort of attic. High at the peak the slop-
ing sides Of the roof descended to within
two feet Of the floor before joining the
walls a decrepit and weather-worn roof,
Of which the beams had fallen into de-
cay and sagged inward: holes were in II.
and here and there / could see bits OF
the outside sunlight while shining patches
and bars dropped downward like yellow
lances into the dusty interior. In the
slope Of roof which faced toward the
street there were two dormer windows,
but these had been roughly boarded up
to the level of a mans eyes. evidently in
preparation for my occupancy. and. in
consequence. the light throughout the
room was dim. A stone chimney ran up
one WALL for furniture there were a cou-
pie OF stools, besides mine. and In one
corner a musty pallet, which. apparently,