Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 118, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 May 1915 — DARK HOLLOW [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

DARK HOLLOW

By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN

(Copyright, 1914, bar Dodd, Meod A Company)

•YNOP8I&. BMUkty Judge and aooautrtc ractaaa. MiaartnK a ratted woman who baa Z»£n*d entrance through the rates of the tegb KWMnanhaa ■nd in a cataleptic state. CHAPTER I—Continued. < It was an awful and a terrifying Mght to little Miss Weeks and. screamtag toadly. aha left her window and ran into Jude* Ostrander's pressnito and, gazing wildly about, wormed bar way toward a heavily carved screen guardinc a distant corner and cowered down behind it The gasping, struggling non, the trestle negro, were In the next room now—she could catch the sound of the letter’s panting breath rising above the clamor of strange entreaties and excited erica with which the air was tall; than a quick, hoarse shout of "Judge! Judge!" rose in the doorway, and she became conscious of tho presence of a headlong, rushing force struck midway into silence as tho frozen figure of his master flashed upon the negro's eyes—then—a growl of concentrated emotion, uttered almost in her ear, and the screen which had been her refuge who violently thrust away from before her and In its place she beheld a terrible boink standing over her, in whose eyes, dilating under thia fresh surprise, she beheld her •doom, even while recognising that if aha must suffer it would be simply as an obstacle to some goal at her back which he must reach —now —before he fell tn his blood and died. What was this goal? As she felt herself lifted, nay, almost hurled aside, she turned to see and found it to be a door before which the devoted Bela had now thrown himself, guarding it with every inch of his powerful but rapidly sinking body, and chattering defiance with his bloodless, quivering lips—a figure terrible in anger, sublime in purpose, and piteous in its failing energies, "Back! all of you!" he cried, and stopped, clutching at the door casing on either side to hold himself erect. "You cannot come in here. This is the judge’s— ’’ Not even his iron resolve or once unequa|ed physique could stand the sapping of the terrible gash which disfigured his forehead. He had been run ever by an automobile in a moment of blind abstraction, and his hurt was mortal. Already his head, held erect by the passion of his purpose, was

sinking on his breast; already his glaring eye was losing Its power of concentration, when with a final rally of his decaying strength he started erect again and cried out in terrible appeal: “I hare disobeyed the judge, and, as you see. it has killed him. Do not m»ire me guilty of giving away his secret Swear that you will leave this door unpassed; swear that no one but his son shall ever turn this loch; or I win haunt you. I, Bela, man by man, till you sink in terror to your graves. Swear! sw — T His head fell forward again and tn that intense moment of complete silence they could hear the splash of his lifeblood as It dropped from his forehead on to the polished boards 'beneath; then he threw up his arms jand fell in a heap to the floor. -Dead!" broke from little Mies Weeks as she flung herself down in reckless abandonment at his side. She Bad never known an agitation beyond dome fluttering woman's hope she had gtffled as soon as born, and now she {knelt in blood. A solemn hush, then a mighty sigh accumulated emotion swept from 'Mp to lip, and the crowd of later intodmn. already abashed if not terrtJfthl .bp Jhs unexpected spectacle of

suspended animation which confronted them from the judge’s chair, shrank tumultuously back as little Miss Weeks advanced upon them, holding out her meager arms in late defense of tho secret to save which she had just seen a man die. "Let us do as ho wished," she prayed. *T feel myself much to blame. What right had we to come in here?" No one in authority was present; no one representing the law, not even a doctor; only haphazard persons from tho street and a few neighbors who had not been on social terms with the judge for years and never expected to bo so again. His secret!—always a source of wonder to every inhabitant of Shelby, but lifted now into a matter of vital importance by the events of tho day and the tragic death of tho negro! Were they to miss its solution, when only a door lay between it and them a door which they might not oven have to unlock? Miss Weeks was about to utter ah Impassioned appeal to their honor, when the current of her and their thoughts was changed by a sudden sense of some strange new influence at work in the room, and turning, they beheld the judge upon his feet, his mind awakened, but his eyes still fixed —an awesome figure; some thought more awesome than before. Death was present with them —he saw it not. Strangers were making havoc with his solitude —he was as oblivious of their presence as he had been unconscious of it before. His faculties and all his attention were absorbed by the thought which had filled his brain when the cogs of that subtle mechanism had slipped and his faculties paused inert. "Where is the woman?” he cried. It was a cry of fear; not of mastery.

CHAPTER 11. The Veiled Woman. The intensity of the question, the compelling, self-forgetful passion of the man, had a startling effect upon the crowd of people huddled before him. With one accord, and without stopping to pick their, way, they made for the open doorway, knocking the smaller pieces of furniture about and creating havoc generally. Some fled the house; others stopped to peer in again from behind the folds of the curtain which had been only partially torn from Its fastenings. Miss Weeks was the only one to stand her ground. When the room was quite cleared and the noise abated (it was a frightful experience to see how little the judge had been affected by all this hubbub of combined movement and sound) she stepped within the line of his vision and lifted her feeble and ineffectual hand in an effort to attract his attention to herself. But he did not notice her, any more than he had noticed the others. Still looking in the one direction, he cried aloud in troubled tones: “She stood there! the woman stood there and I saw her! Where is she now ?” “She is no longer in the house,” came in gentle reply from the only one in or out of the room courageous enough to speak. “She went out when she saw us coming. We knew that she had no right to be here. That is why we Intruded ourselves, sir. We did not like the looks of her, and so followed her in to prevent mischief.” “How dared you! How dared shel” Then as his mind regained its full poiee, “And how, even if you had the temerity to venture an entrance here, did you manage to pass my gates? They are never open. Bela Sees to that”

As she watched she saw his eyes, fixed up to now upon her face, leave it and pass furtively and with many hesitations from bbject to object, toward that spot behind him where lay the source of her great terror, till finally, with fatal precision, they reached the point where the screen had stood, and not finding it, flew in open terror to the door it was set there to conceal—when that something else, huddled in. ooxing blood, on the floor beneath, drew them to itself with the irresistibleness of grim reality, and he forgot all else. U Dead! Bela! Dead! and lying in his blood! The rest may have been no dream, but this was surely one, or his eyes, used to inner visions, were playing him false. Grasping the table at his side to steady his failing limbs, he pulled himself along by its curving edge till he came almost abreast of the helpless figure which for so many years had >3 non the embodiment of faithful and unwearied service. Then and then only did the truth of his great misfortune burst upon his bewildered soul; and with a cry which tore the ears of all hearers and was never forgotten by anyone there, he flung himself down beside the dead negro, and, turning him hastily over, gazed in his face. “And where was I. when an this happened?** he demanded tn a voice made low by awe and dread of Ms own sownd. J-.. "You? You wore seated here,” murmured the little pointing at

the great chair. “You were not—quite—quite yourself," she softly explained, wondering at her own composure. ’ Then quickly, as she saw his thoughts revert to the dead friend at his feet, "Bela was not hurt here. He was downtown when It happened; but he managed to struggle home and gain this place, which he tried to hold against the men who followed him. He thought you were dead, you sat there so rigid and so white, and, before he quite gave up, he asked us all to promise not to let anyone enter this room till your son Oliver came." Understanding partly, but not yet quite clear in his mind, the judge sighed, and, stooping again, straightened the faithful negro's limbs. Then, with a sidelong look In her direction, he felt In one of the pockets of the dead negro's coat and, drawing out a small key, held It in one haijjd while he fumbled in bls own for another, which found, he became on the instant his own man again. Miss Weeks, seeing the difference in him, and seeing, too, that the doorway was now clear of the wondering, awestruck group which had previously blocked it, bowed her slight body and proceeded to withdraw; but the judge, staying her by a gesture, she waited patiently near one of the bookracks against which she had stumbled, to hear what he had to say. “I must have had an attack of some kind,” he calmly remarked. "Will you be good enough to explain exactly what occurred here that I may more fully comprehend my own misfortune and the death of this faithful friend." Then she saw that his faculties were now fully restored, and came a step forward. But before she could begin her story he added this searching question: “Was It he who let you in—you and the others —I think you said others? Was it he who unlocked my gates?” Miss Weeks sighed and betrayed fluster. It was not easy to relate her story; besides it was woefully incomplete. She knew nothing of what had happened downtown, she could only tell what had passed before her eyes. But there was one thing she could make clear to him, and that was how the seemingly impassable gates had been made ready for the woman’s entrance and afterwards taken such advantage of by herself and others. A pebble had done it all—a pebble placed in the gateway by Bela’s hands. As she described ’ this and insisted upon the fact in face of the judge’s almost frenzied disclaimer, she thought she saw the hair move on his forehead. Bela a traitor, and in the interests of the woman who had fronted him from the other end of the room at the moment consciousness had left him! Evidently this intrusive little body did not know Bela or his story, or— Why should Interruption come then? Why was he stopped, when in the passion of the moment he might have let fall some word of enlightenment which would have eased the agitated curiosity of the whole town! Miss Weeks often asked herself this question and bewailed the sudden access of sounds in the rooms without, which proclaimed the entrance of the police and put a new strain upon the judge’s faculty of self-control and attention to the one matter ii\ hand. The commonplaces of an official inquiry were about to supersede the play of a startled spirit struggling with a problem of whose complexities he had received but a glimpse. • The library again! but how changed! Evening light now instead of blazing sunshine; and evening light so shaded that the corners seemed far and the many articles of furniture, cumbering the spaces between, larger for the shadows in which they stood hidden. Perhaps the man who sat there in company with the judge would have preferred to see more perfectly that portion of the room where Bela bad taken his stand and finally fallen; but from the place where he sat there was no getting any possible view of that part of the wall or of anything connected with it; and so, with every appearance of satisfaction at being allowed in the room at all. Sergeant Doolittle from headquarters drank the judge’s wine and listened for the judge’s commands. “Sergeant, I have lost a faithful servant under circumstances which have called an unfortunate attention to my house. I should like to have this place guarded —carefully guarded, you understand —from any and all intrusions till I can look about me and secure protection of my own. May I rely upon the police to do this, begining tonight at an early hour? There are loiterers already at the corner and In front of the two gates. I am net accustomed to these attentions, and ask to have soy fence cleared." "Two men are already detailed for the job, your honor. I heard the order given just as I left headquarters." The judge showed small satisfaction. "Two men! Couldn't I have three? Ono for each gate and one to patrol the fence separating these grounds from the adjoining totr "If two men are not enough to toMR yea a quiet steep you shall have

three or four or even more, Judge Ostrander. Do you want one of them to stay inside? That might do the business better than a dozen out" "Na While Bela lies above ground, wo want no third here. When he is buried I may call upon you for a special to watch my room door. But it's of outside protection we’re talking now. Only, who Is to protect me against your men?’’ "What do you mean by that, your honor?" "They are human, are they, not? They have instincts of curiosity like the rest of us. How can Ibe made sure that they Wont yield to the temptation of their position and. climb tho fences they are detailed to guard?" "And would this be eo fatal to your peace, judge?" A smile tempered the suggestion. "It would be a breach of trust which would greatly disturb me. I want nobody on my grounds, nobody at aIL Has not my long life of sojltude within these walls sufficiently proved this? I want to feel that these men of yours would no more climb my fence than they would burst Into my house without a warrant” "Judge, I will be one of the men. You can trust me.” “Thank you, sergeant; I appreciate the favor. I shall rest now as quietly as any man can who has met with a great loss. I shall always suffer from regret that I was not in a condition

to receive Bela’s last sigh. He was a man in a thousand. One seldom sees his like among white or black.” “He was a very powerfully built man. It took a sixty-horsepower racing machine, going at a high rata of speed, to kill him." A spasm of grief or unavailing re gret crossed the judge’s face as his head sank back again against the high back of his chair. “I should like to ask a question," he finally observed. “You were not at the Inquiry this afternoon, and may not know that just as Bela and the crowd about him turned this corner they ran into a woman leading a small child, who stopped the whole throng in order to address him. I saw that woman myself, earlier. She was in this house. She was in this room. If you will consent to look for her, and if she is found and no stir made, I will pay all that you think it right to demand.” (TO BE CONTINUED.)

Turning, They Beheld the Judge Upon His Feet.

"Who Is to Protect Me Against Your Men?’’