THE NOVELIST.

Otago Witness, Issue 2810, 22 January 1908, Page 79

THE NOVELIST.

fPtmLTSten wr Speciae ABB*NeESH?Nr.] MANTRAP MANOR. m. Sy. G>UY TMQBWEr AuWtor- of " When If Ww Earir, m ' Mad» . fi»r His- Intitge^ ** Kraft- 1# Waa. ordadn«d,"" ""A Eostt Cause,!' «fe, »t^ CHAPTER XV.— SEGQMD; PERIOD OP THE TORTURE. — THE DEATH PICTURE. VTO days, had passed, and. the wound in. His. hand" was nearly Ihealed'. . But now: his. Hair had lost '-afar , j - and^ seemedr d^den^-.in^colour, .' turninrg" v an*l a^jproachirig; , towards*'grey.- : E<n: ' twoi^-wßole' days' "Gilbert had! kep£TnSi 'courage,' " .-though jsach*. hour. -had sappei ift" T 'For two" - wfiolie ' days" he had. stiff, believedrin. Eis 1 young' 1 strength,his.own intelligence, and) the; goesißre, tur'n'ort'gfof :th« tabl^V of 'fortunes. <i-- : "* Terrible-, tilings- had!, happened; ;&ob once> not five- times', not ten fonnfesv he-ttiad been in eminent danger of* death. AIT that. th& most' fiendish malice could: contrive against a- straggling life- kept ima. cage had' beam directed: against binn Y«t on ' eacß occasion bis- natural' mental strength, his- shrewd'" apprehension of what was to ..oorna,. his .unconqpterafcfe belief in himself; and his destiny had 5 saved, him frpnv ay dozen-. 6ham«fuli and! fearful' deaths. Thiee times, at day in. one. plaoeTor.another in tlie-old; barred; house- he* had^ found food 9 . Despite his most; cunning and calculated' endeavours He had ; been- unaßle= to; locate "its' sources* ' Here and: therej, at all' hours and in the- most: unexpected fashion,, sustenance- foe his , body, had: been, .pro- ' vidsedj and' n«Tfeir. once- hadi he been able to catch or-' discover those 1 silent^ hidden, ministers to' fire pHyeicali needs. By a. hair's breadth a dozen (ime& He had .. escaped . the . most anexgected and incredible attaels. Amd oaow, as tte-.d^wn, rose upon- tiie: third* day^ ofe hisv fcortfoxe — did- they nolr say he> was to live a* weefc; like this? — now ujjan the - third-, day his nerves' were spoilt and 1 * unstrung, Bis, hair, was .turning grey/,. Bis facet was the- face ,©*-an. oldtinan. ' r 'He^fcnew weJlr-hef rdir ife in erery^fibre 4 of his body— that the- inevitable- end, -was approaching. Ml' his. confidence had gone, his health had gone, and he, liyed : now, asheJtrod among these horrors, as a man who avoided this or that, by a mind ofunconeciotis instanct. '• B- was at dawn- itpori th* ihirdr ,-day that h©* crawled, .rafieSr; tfian Valiced I , ' ug the w • cltaircaee^, towards- the upper" part, oi: thehotee.' At v each, sound' that fjisr soft, «K>tfali made- he- turned, suddenly *nd wAth blanched: face- to 'right ob left.. The- merenoises -of . his own progress*' were- fuU- of: terxoxs. He almost dragged- himself apthe 'balustrade,, pulling hnneelrT from stair to stair with his- right hand, while his, left, so cruelly wounded- by the, darting. Enife from ontthe- handle- of: "the dining foam door, throbbed like- a^ beaten drum.. Before,- him wag a portal , some. . half- • way down,- the passage on the left'nand Bide, which, ha* had not entered, as yet. The night before he had' gonWinto. the room' next, doorrto- this — gone- intotit tremii-' lonsly "and^ terriffed. Eriiansted iir manA and- body; careless of whaf might- liap,pen, lie had\ thrown himself' upon- the bed', find: there, all night long, he had'slept a broken and wearied sleep without molestation or afoxm.^la the morning,. almost welcomingsome sew horror, tie had gone ronn^ tha, room { tried this ot"tnat cupboard, stepped' on- this* or that-UkeTypaTt of/tiieflboi' — hadtried a!1 tlie hidden possibilities of his sleeping, room. ~l "/ ' ' * ' - t* And nothing -had happened, at alt. He Tealised. that , this was ■paft.-oi--bis» toitupo-i'-th»t he-llad come by chanc«{inti> a:Toonr wher* "no lurking enemy -er~ mechanismTVas ready or prepared) where, no* . waited to day/ But the day -Before . bad been full of fearful surprises f his bodywas racked" with a, thousand pains. He had' been subjects to;, happenings. wfiielT transcended the- wildest dreams, he had been, the sgort and* toy of" a. mechanical g'emus who r even in his agony, imposed awe and admiration upon. him. At supper the- night before — a- mysterious cupper which had been spread foe hnmby «a unseen agency in the dining room— he

ffiad' founds a bettW 01 -whisky upon tho/ table, and "had taken, this, up to his bedroom. When he .had awakened in the morning he had; endeavoured, to refortify J his failing; strength by means of the- spirit. i And .now- he stood wondering- what the , day would bring? forth} a» littler comforted by/ the tonic, but still with absolute de- ' spahr shining; iir the brown ©yes; Then 1 a^kim? of madness seized Him.. Hjk ' nerves were strained* to breaking point ; he? would' be rash and. get ifc all. oven Deaths was 1 near, nint.like-i a-, gpeat blatefe cloud; weD, .then, let Deatfc come — sads- , come speedily ! .He- left the- room in which he hade slept during the nigSt, and' wan<~ ' d'ea-edi aimles^iy along" the corridor without- - care ot hope. A door stood' open — it was fche-door of the bedroom into which- he had mounted < upon, the' first 'day of his- mv - prisonment. ; ' , ' There it, was, just the- same. The, pillow • tha* lie- Had caiTiedi up. lay upon, ithe floor,, 1 and the window,, which- had so nearly stunned and. broken-, hiio^, was- guarded well by its iron bias:. - . l , - The room • was a large- ojisj ' furnished just 'as any ; ordinary | hotel bedroom -is- f&r- . nished. There was fitie" bedstead 1 oF gleam--ing .brass, with. its wMte. sheets, and- coun- - ; terpane ; : . here w-as the- bath* in. tie, comer by the dbooc;' r i3iera was 1 the -Heavy -mahogany w,ardrobet set against tfie opposite 'wall. ' - Again; it-; wasj d3wiKj» stall thY suniigh* ' poured) into- ,bhe\ rooinrthrought thtf 'barted windows; of frosted 1 glass 1 ; still 1 he- heard the birds singing their morning' hymn ttr ; the sun' in the outside gardens. But» now. " he was- tottfering} Bfce atr old" man, who has recovered from a long- illness. - He; wa&> Jno more the strong: and* brave young man oft Sft-houfisj agQr— he waa- reckless and: abandoned- to» bis -fate;.' "■- - «■' - Yet he was well nourished' still, and 1 thecollapse was more 'of brains and nerves than. o£ hocly. Nofc thinking- wfiatr hie- waa doing, riot 'tfh' inking: <>f anyfehing at all, in , faict,, he began the terribla prisoner's- walk *up and- down, the room. UjTaiuLdbwn, down and back, ten pacea each way — the walk- of a, human caged. , Instinctively he- had- thrust- hia- right handdeep mto his, pocket; fiis^ fingers' -played nervously with thfe- coins that still were tliere, and'he fieaard l the jingle of them in> a half-conscious manner. As a> man does, he was thinking, of very different things. Be gathered the* coins in his 1 hand', and. dropped them one by one through his ! first finger, and thumb to, the bottom of his pocket.. One,. two> thuee, four, five— Jbut^ ■ what wass'this? Us- was- aL Kttkftmy coin-!- ■^ ail' unusual .coin: Be*-pulledMt, out- of Hts»' pocket^andv looked' at? it. lir- was a three- ' penny. 'plece^a. v tßrieepeniiy piece; with' a £ole'?ir, it— a' threepenny /piecfr- which had 1 once, fallen. f»>ni" a bangle which. .Sadie^ TCore^ *nd:,whrch H /she had" given-'hiirii for^ good luck, k ' He , held: it in. his xuiwounded - < palm,, '"-and. -looked t atK i* 'steadily' -for amoment; then be, gave a deep I< >g breach.. "Dear," he said; "this^ is- your coin, and your fingers-- "have 1 - touched' it. Therefore, come 1 - what may, T will' not. forget thaft I owe it to- you to be a man — even, iiu tfie-v«ry hour -of death." - He- kissed- the little^ silver trifle, and! as he- did ao,. even in hisbrnised> wounded( and unnerved states a little comfort- cameback to, him. H^ etopped 1 in- Ms- walk' and. shouted sob aloud these four words;. H Sadie, I love you 1" - • ' ' His- .voice echoed* through- the- empty .house, and* there- was no- lesgoiW. But ■the mere sound' of it gave -him » little comfort. • , ~ ' He, stamped his foot- iipon. the flopir, Even as- he did so, the" pressure- must; have actuated another of the frightful inventions of those toßo. kept him there. The ■ great heavy mahogany- wardrobewhich waft set against tlie opposite wall suddenly rushed: towards him — rushed outr into- tfiw middle of the room with the 'speed of an: express' train Axxk the, forceof at. battering' iaani It had leapt upon him. before he" had realised the-atfeclfc: it had* leapt upon him like; a-.greatr bull a* matador. Had he. reinauied a single half-second longer" whei©-' he stood, the; great charming piece of furniture/ wouldr have knocked? him senseless .or, perchance, would^ havekilled him. But, he^hadr made a slight instinctive movement to tae.Jeit, and. the> great, bureau- caught ham-'upoii: the> right " shoulder^ flung* Mm. round and down 4 to - the?sboav bleednig'aindJ einsetess.- He 5 was' nofr/serionsly; hurt when he awoke — he was only,, once, more, bruised, and- beaten, into- cowardice. - THe waidrobe- was^ again set back against the wall ,as if, nothing- had ever- moved it, and' the sunlight, now the midday, sunlight,, was-, still pouring, into the room. Qnoa mane the gong- sounded for his lonely and haunted meal. I ». » . ; . j In after years, when Gilbert Atherton ' was- asked to tell of his terrible experiences at Mantrap Manor., he was always, unable to give them in precise and actual, detail. That is to say; while every occurrence waa:fixed\and' pictured- in ids mind; h^ could' ,nat always- relate them* in their due ' sequence. - This* or that happening' wae told as a separate story, and, he wasneverr able; to fit .them* into the' mosaic of that Hideous week.' There was> ,for instance, the piano epitfode. For fulL seven- hours^ Atherton .was able to remember that: nothing -whatever, had 1 happened; • Eeckleefr of life- desiring only death',rchanged"from,> young amd', vigorous 1 ■man; to- one^w-ho was oldv and 'broken,^ he* had- roamed,- the \rooms aadr corridors of Mantrap;- Manor; - At, last,, he hadr come >l».\5QSt in? a small- drawing- room 1 at.- the far ends of tihe", right-hand corridor. Kr- was a Httlfr-Elaoa^decorated in canary <»lour and' china Hoe -y; a octagonal room which, bad" no suggestioo of anything bizarre* orr untoward; about' it. Us was^ at night when tlna happened,, aawi th& myfiterious electric lights, whic& always glowed out as- day diedj illuminated the. sma«l J and oomfortahl* *lac« witH a radi-

" anoe which, was almost friendly and home- 1 like. | Mechanically he hud tested the walls, probed" the floor for. hidden springs and pitfalls, made all' the* efforts that, the exhausted and yet terribly experienced brain- dictated. Nothing had occurred-; it seemed,, indeed) as if this little drawing room- wass- a haven, free- from horrors. A few lounge- . chairs _stood about, some simple pictures hung' upon tie wails ; there was- at sofa, a revolving' bookcase, and a-, . black- ebonised' piano,, that was all. ! Ha had; sunk, into one of the armchairs,, feeling for a moment that' his^ departing., gydp upoA sanity and life was* arrested. ~Here, indeed, he could be at peace* for j a Btfcle while. R was so smalls this room, so comfbrtaible aad friendly^-sucely „ nothing could' happen here! The little cot-tags- piano was ope*r, "and a song, stood uponv the-- rack, above the> kay^ai lurched 1 " dully; ; towardfe it, and thi'enj'' with ;a?' ffash/'of~ expiring:, memoryr, ! saiw 'ihatf the-song- was 'one which; he > knew? j well, andt/ which,', indeed, he- had 'some'-j times sung^ to Sadie- Wilshiie 1 in. bhe 'ong;,| v long;,' long, ago. "' Wayr vlonc it vxas I TE£pm long "ago ; were, all, those* bright, and hagpy days^ when-Ee moved in .the laughing world" and ' loyeih^ Sadie! .- - - '- ( , - Giloer* wais not' a pianist, but, like most tmlodecni young; mien,, he , had at. workings knowledge of music. That is to say, the ' !e accompaniineri'6 r of ai song s - was iiot beyond ; him. He sank'- down, then, upon the music stool, andt his, tired, <. nerveless, fingers began to move: and stray over the keys. - " - The old melody pealed and rang out - into the jpoom, lihe old melody of .the gracious" song"\whichT he> and Sadie> had* sung hundreds, aaids hundreds* of; yeaa& ago ! j li was- a • simple' melody enough; — a,, eoag \ of two children whio had" loved each abhev in their -Jpoflitli,, hadl gcown.. to maturity and", lovsd^, ualjk^fate had' .taken tfie.- girl, i and 1 the lover remained to mourn over the | little green mound in Idle- churchyard near his home. , ' Gilbert, played the first verse over and over again, feeling- a stmnge; dumb comfort in the chords; And then, as the influence- of the music infused' itself 1 and" had its way with him,, he-- began to try the » elaboration of the well-known melody itself. . V Unders his>, touch the- little' piano- rang- " and- samg> wllilerv from- bass to* treiUlei the< -musici'TOse and'^fedl' ia- real" and poignantpathos. V T% sojig.-/finisaed' in, .the> ( higbl minor treble, oad.- anded finally' in a. tink-- . .ling diminuendo- *on thoser -thin snoteft - which ase 1 3S>ut rarely used' in, ordinary^ - music^ t , . v \,' * ' ,13i u order to -end* the melody as; her^rejmemoeredi it,' Gilbert away ed far 1 to tlieright-, while- his hands moved swiftly over .the* keys. ' - \ Then came 1 - the end — the end of- thewholer song — the finish of an emotion, upon the 'tog. C naturall cl- the scale. He* touoaed ihe- note for the first time in» the- melody. distantly; feh\ere v was,a loud reporfr fromthe. centre of the pia-no, followed^ by at startling. erosß. as the' bullet of" the concealed piatoL mthjn- tftar case rushed past tbes leftv'shouldeE' o£ the placer and broke'a~- long' mirror>l>enand him. GiMbert had 1 escaped- an altnost certairL' death, by the deflection, tl his body 3ik from where he>; might, naturally have been. '< The lihrao- upon, whichv -he' had stumbled suddenly one day was perfiaps the most, terrible of all' his memories. „ Atr least, s6> he was accustomed- w> cay • many yearsi afterwards-. Opening aoethec of, thoser strange door& behind which so many things were' hidden,, he had found himself in a largeroom lined' with, booka. "Here," he said, to- himself, "is a* little^ respite, a little .momenfr of, quiet. Book* cannot poison-- me, books cannot shoot at me,, because - 1- am warned' against the hidden, pistol. Perhaps .hi my~ pain- .Imay spend ani houu or- twov with Shakes-, peare; or^listen!' to Molieue as^-he brings-, his fantastic puppets upon thY stagey"' " And, indeed, bis hope " seemed to bejustified^ | He had- attempted, to take a vojume^ from H*b.e shely,e», and" hadi fouivct, to bis, disgust, that'- it was a painted shell. AHI the books were - doubtless, unreal and shams. Yet upon his -second attempt he had found a real book, with covers of clotbr-a. book, which would open, the leaves of whioh he- could, turn, upon the leaves of which there were printed, wordsi, Ah, how good, that was ; how fine itwas to hold Tennyson — a real printed- ! Tennyson in. one's hands again. The i power of the printedi page could take, him away from the hideous circumstance amL dreadful glace , in which*, he- wae and- lift: Mm, into an enchanted kingdom of thought. A voice by the*- cedar tree, Tyi the meadow under the- Hall! She is singing" an air" that is known to me, A passionate- ballad galtanir and 1 gsy. A. martial* song' like a- trumpet's- call ! Singing: alone in th& nwjrnijagv of ' life-, In the- happy morning- of- lite and' of May, ' Singing of; men thit in battle array, Eeady in heart and -ready- in- hand; March with-, banner --and bugle and fife .To the- cfeath for their native land: That -was, from "ilaud"^— the most beaur tiful.love" j>oem-_ that had ever been,, written since.- the bard ot Avon sang his swooning. melodieV of those he- loved. Gilbert put' the book down, rose and ( held- his bands . upwaids. in, the attitude of one who prays.. -'And', in the silence of 'this' library, ,, so pleasant, homely^, and ■ comfortable,, and' yet, doubtless, but, a • #i/ere mask A. or engines- of destruction^ he said aloud these words-: "My love and" my lady l .' lam very near the end now, my lady and my. love. You always and for ever peerless" without , rival, my darling. Yes,, my darling,. I', , am always yours and xou axe always I

[mine. This little life' will^soon be over, or soon for me, But I know, and believe with all my heart and soul. that, if you . wait in this world, longer, you will still' be hoping to meet me- in' tHe. other, and that when you- come your love will' be* waiting for you at the gate. Dear, _I^ have nothing to offer yotu; I have never had anything to offer you, worthy of. your peerless beauty, of the, wonder of? you — I have never had anything to' offer you, saive this. Sweetheart;,. I came to you unj sullied, I came to> youi pure, and? J leave you foe a little space wearing the- same " aismour. nr which- 1 came- to you."' As Gilbert said thir his- face, his tired, ; seamed 1 ,, scarred; face,, glowed. It was. aa" ' though, a, ligfit- was> lit, within amd Galahad was made* manifest: standing; theme, in. peril, mader- manifest" for the evfl. powers who , had Kirn* in fSheir grip.. And' foE, his-- part,, tjie bea-utiful words o£ t&e»- great Eaglish.,,pcfet had, soothed all b^sfearsfc Th«dareadf«f whatawajtei J huui in: the wayt of physical torture — -affd' \ how welt he'-kne-w^theE terribler things-.-tbat* j' awaited him V — was 1 dffisipated. and* de1 stroyed, by the livings hope*,^the- livingi J lore, the eternal reverence "~of the Jady >,he had once- hoped; toi win.-,. Ts. i." - m He^sat" downrupoiL a revolving /chair 1 .which stood H m-froiiLf of tfiebig wri.tih.gi; table*. He leant bac& ihtifcwith-'his hands behind him, and.-tIW richlyr-bound Tenny--i eon in front upon-- the- learner pad of the i table;, aiid looked- upwaids' tb» the ceiling,, thiu&ing solely and simply of the great blessing of" love that had- coma to him . so short a. time- ago;. and» which', though he was, barred and forbfddenj from it by' the -machinations of wicked' men, stitl ' glowed life a fire in . his heart as he knext- it glowed' in hiers-. j At that moment he felt .that,- no. matJ ter What could be done to. him by, 'his I enemies — even 'if &c were- to die witliijx 1 the next? ball hoar, Be.^held a* pricerlass ppssession whick lie guarded within tEe citadel' of his souf — that citadel* -which no WilshxEe, no de Toros, no fiaid' itself could! storn or could capture. < s He leant forward with both \ak elbows upon the. table-. As he did so there was a loud hum'mingißofee, like the rising of a thousand wasps' nests. * ~ , ■ Has- elbows left the- ta.blej'ndsf feet werecanghtr up- from.' the flooc,, and^he felt himself lushing upwards- to the beamed oak 1 ceiling; as*' a.- cork bounces* .-upon, a jet; of-w-ateocJ - - ■ -_ V,* , There ,was just, one- single -momenta before his , head, would, . have. Been. "• cxusbTed;' like' aa egg-shell 'against -the-"- roori^andf« in that swift /mpment he realised -what was 1 happening^ -He- bent his head, lifted, his hands from.^the!_ai\mst of" th& chair,* "iahdt shpt, out o£ iif 1 falling, heavily ( "froni.. twelve^feet",hdgh^ up&n the carpet 1 ' belt) w.^ 1 The pedestal of' the chaiir revolve 3 upon*' an endless screw, which had been pushed i up by the same infernal, agency -which waiiched- and control Ted ali. his movemente until tine> hack* of the- chair touched the ceiling as hW looked-, ug- at ' it' withi wide" and? terror-stricken" eyes. , ' '' He was not h/art at? aJI ;. he fell' upon all fours-, just escaping^ the- ied*ge ol t&e ■ mahogany; writmg 1 taßle/ ; But toe ' chair ' "once, more> sank- dow-it gently! and quietly to ite firs?« positdbiij he^ knew tha* 1 he had 4 again -escaped' fronr a pTofr and a mechanism? which, might? well have br»ugnt, him to* bis end^, • * It wa& midday upon the- fifth morning* • -Those, ?fho. had- fenown. Gilbert only a ' fortnight'- ago would "not- Have recognised him,now; i£they. had fieenhim. >, The brown hair,, which, but a, Eew hours ago had turned' grey,' was now 1 snow-white. .Into the Sne contour . ot^ the face great gashes of agony were cut j. the,young mouth was* now weais aaid nervelesff, and the • colour- ha 3 gone from-his lips. ,The- s|srong, lithe "body — - straight' as- a/ die it. had always, been,, was no llongier straight.. It- was- bowed like the* body of old- man. , Yet, .incredible as- jt.^ may seem,, the i>ro r w,n^ Bright eyes^ were still defiant,. 6t£ll\ kept' something of their old. confidence and strength; The: body 1 of the man was cnangetL and' Broken, but \the eyes- still' , said, or still would have* said had there" been. Miybody* to* see- them,, "Here is a , -man-. Here, still, is. a- man.'.' ,;. - | The -old men— the oid-broken"nian,'now , ctept "slowly and' painfully through the, tortuous' passages of Alantea'p Manor.',; This " and- that terror had come and passed By- some strange. Influence, utter, extinction had v .l>een prevented over and. over, again. Luck, fortune— call.it what you please— still preserved Gilbert Atherton, from the- end. It seemed? as- ifr be- must still u endure' tHe seven dayjs of agony decreed' by those relentless- and' cruel brains . which, had ! trapped", and caught him, and whicK,,dbubt- ! less,, watched his lingering' exit from the world of meni - > - , * 1 So -the leaden hours crawled: on-;; so Time marked his in'exora-ble,. dia\" towards tfie end. Gilbert could think no longer now; ithat Is- to' say, hope JEas, entirely "extin- • guished' ; only - in" the- back of?" Kir- brain was there a. dull and. dumb- sensation- of something beyond- the. routine "of" daiiy terror. , I He' could 1 not say-whafr thi» sub-conscioßs sense meant.. He' had onLy-as ddmt sen-, ".satdon at the back of his brain; that .somehow or another there was, indeed, some- . ' thing which, somehow or some day, would 'redeem- his- personality from, the Eorrid stupor, into Tsjhich it had .been forced. „ H-e' was 5 a eoul frozen, a- soul' that knew that it would shortly- be- frozen.- into no-' 1 thingness, and yet which still knew that the future of another life, held, webmpense-t and retribution. \ ' ,• I It was thus that tKe end came. He had long since' ceased' alertness on care:. He " seemed' to have- -been' so many years in-: the grip of triumphant force> and' power that he had forgotten.- the endeavour ofr resistance. . ' Day by day ae* wandered tHroTigh the , vast expanse, of the house', and day by day this- or that" mocking-;, and still' not destroying^ incident added ~fi>f his misery" and downfall,

One afternoon — it was; about 4* 6? clock,. as he saw by his watch, which he had never 1 forgotten" to wind up with trembling," mecliaiiicai fihgene — he " came into a room through which he had. often wandered* ~ The- room was- a; long: narrow passage. Bung . with- pictures- list into; the panellings of? * the wall. Nothing had ever. Happened to him chere — nothing^haff had" caused 1 Him pain,.— and' his dying brain sometime* sought it in bi*S) weary - progress through- the* manor as. ai. '.sort, of haveni of rest. Tnene was . one-- picture there wfiicK stretched- ftlhwtetJ from filing, - edge' to floor^-^a gr«a£ luxi'd* picture- which seemedf. to have neem painted,' too newly to' be ai : true- product of" flhes • master,- w-fiose- oame was- signed", at the bottom, of.' the- frame. This- pietiure- -waff that of: a- mediaeval-mao-atf-arma-^-avman in armour. The-faoft that; looked out, upon, fcheh dying broken man, who- would often stand stupefied be^ fore it, was- that of a swarthy Southern. Avb&ck- bearded 4 , man be was, with' greal. [ 'bold'-blacKr eyes* and. a: dark' brown' skin.. a maa-aE-arms who seemed to bY stepping. s v and* chargmg-'out-of ihe- pictureL; •j and', inj ther very 1 oentre-~o£. it was the" poinfi" of" Eis sp'ear—^a- ,. wonderful p»ce of fore* shortened' dfawing [ which suggested, vivid! , -and! active I ! movement. ' J . v ■ -, ."'"''Often Gilbert ;.would v jsto'p., ln front >t * - this- wild^' glowing, picture/ regarding itl . . withi lack-lustre- eyes^ caught: andL held- byj its* powejr and reality. ' One- afternoon, as he had done so manyi , lames; before, Gilbert, ok rather that eldl forgotten bo* wind' ut>. with^utembltng, me.stood- fa^oihafced and hypnotised' "n ttooS . of \ the picture-. He was- mumbling to himself. Strange^ inarticulate noises' came from his loose*flaccid' moutß. He- grinned : , and put up- * trembling forefinger at the- fierce paintea. wamoT. . • Then "the end came. There was a quiok metallic snap of cotwcealed mecbaiaism, and' two feet of th'Op rich gold: frame fell away on either side, wmle: two long, simious' arms'of temperecl'.. isteel' ffashed' out- and' caugßt tiie trem* 1 bKirg, victim-'.in> front? of the- picture. Her sftood' imprisoned', HetdJ and' bound,-. j .while the- Bold, -black eyes- of the pictured soldier. «till glared uito his- own. The< last torlfure' hadv begun. • ' "Eor; a full half hour the- wrecks o£ Gil* .„ bert Atherton was cl&mped in front of they j man-at-aTms,, who pointed his speais , directly atf his heart. , AndC, then there was a sound— a " sound j6P moving' wechamism,— and- fromr out the picture; from, thY very point ofi, - the painted spear, "area! spear/of-tempered-steel!-grojectedt jerkily fßom.- thff canvas.-- . ""- ' Two inches "an -nbTir-: that \was- the rat<r, v ,- at "which; the last vengeance- of Julius Wil* i abire, aaad Ramon. de*Toros forged its waj^ ' towards the heart of Gilbert AtfoertolU, " ■ ' "(To-ber continueidl)' , - ' * >