Bismarck daily tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, Dakota [N.D.]) 1881-1916, 1915-03-23

1t was an hour or more before | ENC
ceeded in getting rid OF my friends.
At last entered my home fer the
last time. made certain preparations
and emerged with q parcel under my
arm. This I placed under the seat Of
the vehicle in which 4 would drive ia
Karnoul, arrangements having been
made to send the conveyance back.
Farewells said, amid the cheers of my
friends-and every person in the vii.
lay.e was my friend-It took my depar.
ture.
Katrina, ! did not call upon, though
she waved her handkerchief from the
window. This act j pretended not to
sec An hours fast driving and l was
in sight of the g%uardhouse.
Paul frightened as | entered.
II wa; afraid you meant to- leave me
here all night for a joke" he said, q
trile nervously, I thought.
II am even now on my way to Kar.
noul. called to bid you good.by.R ]
said simply. II
There was a narrow billet of wood
which / had carried to the place long
before for scat. This l picked up and
placed upright within bare reach OF
my captive. On tie top I placed the
loaf of black bread from the parcel.
"Why did you return SO soon?" ]
asked him.
"My business took a shorter time
than expected" he replied, giving me
q strange look.
"kId the rosd you traversed is q
dang ops one,"I observed smilingly.
Il DO you mean? he asked
quietly. 4
That You will not be missed"
"Alexis! Surely you are not going to
leave me here? No one has been here
for fifty years; none will come. Il shall
die" Paul moaned. ,Hs ~
J. folded my arms over my chest and
laughed. ~ ats8&.&f4 TO o ,ss,s
"This loaf of bread is theSartistic
touch TO my joke, Paul. 1t as food.
You will be hungry. Don't deyour it
all in q day, for there will be none left
for the dreary days to come when you
will hope for rescue; hope, when in
your heart you will know that there
can be no hope.
First, you will pick Off q corner OF
the bread; then. when hunger grips,
a little nor Soon al! will be gone,
and you will die. I shall never return.
Gcod-by, Paul" 49,;
as made my way back tothe horse
his yoiceesme' toIne.
alexis! For pity'sSsake,f Alexis!"
This, with variations, l heard until
halfway down the hill, when the
sounds became like whispers, ana long
ereI reached the road all was silent,
though I knew he vas still calling.
twenty-five years had passed since
all this had happened. would look
at the guardhouse, thenzproceed TO the
village, posing as . traveller until l
could hear of Katrina.
As I approached the place my fear
Of recognition vanished. None would
know me, I had changed so greatly.
Even NY voice was different. 1would
Just peep in before returning to the
waiting Ivan.
AS Tstspnsd inside something caught
iny eye. I stopped abruptly; my heart
started tapping IL Ittyasars.
PRECIPITATION brohe from me. I was
afraid.
Then, as the truth flashed upon me,
I shrapk back AVID clatched at the wall
for support,
Under The iron w,:.i$.band to which
I had fastened Paul lay 4 Pile Of bones,
while shreds OF clathing hung from
the chains. There waslno need to look
ct the buttons, the little personal arti.
cles from the pockets; that was I'm.
necessary; IEknew them at cnce for
Paul's. "k't
l shivered.
Paul must have reached out for the
loaf and in his fright Knocked over the
-.lN- A FtEaL ~
lnsecn-cly placed log, the action caus-
ing the bread to roll out Of his reach.
Yes, that was it.
Naturally, the bread, had long ago
disappcared-the rats had seen to
that.
And the file-the strong fle-l had
Undecided in the loaf-the file with
which he was to release himself-lay
on the floor, a good two feet out of his
reach!
What is it? Did you see the 'ghost?"
ivan asked on my return, starting as
he saw my face.
"Yes-that's 1.-THE ghost" I STAN.
mered. "Drive back to Karnoul. l am
not going to Ragorsk."s ~, .
l dared not ask him OF Katrina.
AnNu pooL,nn.sa. An>FTeaaknd