The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1915-04-28

karnoul, arrangements having been
made to send the conveyance back
Farewells said, amid the cheers of my
friends-and every person in the vii.
lage was my friend-I took my depar.
ture.
Katrina, did not call upon, though
she waved her handkerchief from the
window. This act l pretended not to
see. An hours last driving and was
In sight of the guardhouse.
Paul frightened as entered.
Il was afraid you meant to leave me
here all night for a joke" he said, a
trif1e nervously, l thought.
81 am even now on my way to Kar-
noul. l called to bid you good-by,"
said simply.
There was narrow billet of wood
which l had carried to the place long
before for seat. This picked up and
placed upright within bare reach of
my captive. On the top placed the
loaf of black bread from the parcel.
why did you return so soon?" l
asked him.
my business took a shorter time
than expected" he replied, giving me
strange look.
"And the road you traversed is a
dangerous one." I observed smilingly.
What do you mean?' he asked
quickly.
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. shall
de-" Paul moaned.
folded my arms over my chest and
| laughed.
This loaf of bread is the artistic
touch to my joke, Paul. 1t is food.
You will be hungry. Don't devour it
all in 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 of a corner Of
the bread; then, when hunger grips,
a little more. Soon all will be gone,
and you will die. shall never return.
Good-by, Paul.
AS made my way back to the horse
his voice came to me.
Alexis! For PHYS sake, Alexis!"
This, with variations, I heard until
halfway down the hill, when the
sounds became like whispers. and long
ere l reached the road all was silent,
though knew he was still calling.
twenty-five years had passed since
all this had happened. l would look
at the guardhouse, then proceed to the
village, posing as a traveller until
could hear of Katrina.
AS ! approached the place my fear
Of recognition vanished. None would
know me, had changed SO greatly
Even my voice was different. would
just peep in before returning to the
waiting Ivan.
As stepped inside something caught
my eye. stopped abruptly; my heart
started tapping in my ears.
| Precipitation broke from me. wal
afraid.
Then, as the truth flashed upon me
I shrank back and clutched at the wall
for support.
Under the iron waistband to which
had fastened Paul lay a pile of bones
while shreds Of clothing hung from
the chains. There was no need to lool
at the buttons. the little personal arti
cles from the pockets; that was un
necessary; l knew them at once fol
Paul's.
I shivered.
Paul must have reached out for the
loaf and in his fright knocked over the
insecurity placed log, the action caus
ing the bread to roll out Of his reach
Yes, that was it.
Naturally, the bread had long age
disappeared-the rats had seen t.
that.
And the flewthe strong hleWI ha(
imbedded in the loaf-the file with
which he was to release himself-la,
on the floor, a good two feet out Of hiI
reach!
what is 1t? Did you see the ghost?
Ivan asked on my return. starting al
he saw my face.
"Yes-that's 1.-THE ghost" STAN
mered. Drive back to Karnoul. I an
not going to Ragorsk."
dared not ask him of Katrina.