Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 34, Number 92, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 July 1902 — HE WOMAN IN GRAY [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

HE WOMAN IN GRAY

BY ROBERT ESTES DURAND.

CHAPTER XXL— (Continued.) I did not even stop to see whether or »o he was looking back after me —instinct told me that he would do so —but having proceeded at a good rate of speed for five and twenty yards, I suddenly turned aft the road and darted in among the pine* which, on one side, densely lined the way. I forced myself to wait' until he had fully twenty minutes’ start. He must have been in the house for jsome time now, I told myself, and would have entirely abandoned all idea of my return. In the excitement of the moment it was very probable the doors would not have been locked, for in so isolated a place—and a place of so evil a repute — there would not be much danger of more visitors for the Spider Farm that night. At all events, I must take my chance. Very carefully I picked my way, in dread of the dog, which might be abroad for the night, and which would certainly raise its deep-toned voice at any unaccustomed sound. But the noise of the wind and rain was in my favor. A gale blew among the pines on the hill behind the house, and the rain rattled against the bricks as loudly as though each drop had been a hailstone.l stole nearer. The front of the house was barred and shuttered as before. Not so much as a gleam of light came from clink or crevice. * ... . . > Softly paddling over the wet gravel and (through mud to the back of the house, ■round the path along which I had boldly walked in the morning, I was successful ku reaching the window of the kitchen. |The shutters were only half closed, and Ithough every other window was pitchy |black, through this one filtered the dull {yellow light of a single lamp. At first I could see no one, only the fare walls and a few sticks of old furniure already familiar to me. I knew ghat Jonas Hecckleberry’s pallet on the (floor was below my line of vision, unless tt climbed up, and this I dared not do, |for fear of the noise I might make. Un |the table was the doctor’s bag. ' Evidently Mr. Nobody had received the •expected welcome, I thought, and is the |words formed themselves in my brain the [door from the passage into the kitchen [opened and the doctor himself came in. Ille was accompanied by the old woman, land I could see the shadow of the dog [moving along the opposite wall. I The doctor set down the candle on the (table; he then walked over to that part Us the room where I knew the sick man lay, and looked down regarding him. (Presently he flung himself into a chair, (with a stretch and a great yawn, which (sounded plainly in my ears through the [cracked panes of the window. “That’s over!” he exclaimed. “It’s a ■nasty sight. If Jonas and you aren’t fareful, there’ll be some more digging to |be done under the pines. But we’ll get Jonas round again before long.” _Z_“That’a a lovey,” crooned the hog, ‘warming her lean fingers at the kitchen gauge. “Yes, I always was a lovey, wasn’.t I? ■TYou couldn’t get on very well without one, anyhow. A clear case of luck 1 had the appointment with Jonas to-day,” (went on Mr. Nobody of Nowhere. “1 [should like to know how he fared last "night, and what he got out of her. Confound him for getting into this mess, and keeping me waiting!” “Who’s ‘her’?” curiously queried Granny. • - ■ . I thought that I could have answered the question, and my blood grew hot [with w rath against the doctor. “Never mind ‘her.’ I say, old girl, listen to that rain outside. What does this inight remind you of?” “1 don’t know. The rain makes my bead feel queerer nor ever. I can’t call up nothing at all.” “See if 1 can’t help you. Think back ‘—not many years ago. You'd just moved faito this house, and things weren't settled yet. None of ‘them’ had come here. A dark night, and the sound of the gale tu the pines. A carriage drives up to [the door. Ngt from Market Peyton—)»h. no! and what wouldn’t the gossipknongers there have given to know what [was in it? Y’ou ran out to the door to •meet it. The wheels and windows are •plashed thick with mud. The driver gets down off his seat •” “Yes. yes. I remember!" shrilled the old "woman, frantic with the joy of recollection. “The driver —that was you.” “Right you are. Nobody else could be trusted. And what does the driver fetch •ut of the carriage? Can you tell me that?" “A woman. I thought she was dead •t first. Her face was white as the •now that lies out there among the pines in winter. I took hold of her hand to •ee whether, it .was cold, and—ugh! 1. jumped as though I’d been beat with my •_wn whip I used to think so much of in •hem days, when 1 see what was on thut hand.” Involuntarily (at the words which told pie of a surety that the conversation was (veering toward Consuelo aud her secret t—that which Paula had called the “secret of the pearls") I drew back a step (from the door. There was a faint creakj responded to it with a bell-toned ■ote. b • “What's that?” demanded Mr. Nobody •f Nowhere, sharply, and his chair scraped as he rose hastily to his feet. "I didn’t hear anything, but Grim did." “Law, it’s nothing!” whined the old woman. “Grim’s always doing that, and givin' me a start, it Jonas Is away.” « “I*ll take a look out into the passage, nevertheless,*’ said the doctor. And 1 Beard hfs footstep moving across the uncarpeted floor. , “Don't trouble,*’ Granny returned. “If *twas anything, *twas upstairs.” “Ah, if that’s all!” ejaculated the man. with a sigh of comfortable satisfaction, *1 dare say you're right. I won’t bother, Mtnu Now, for a bit of bread and

I had a reprieve, and my “cue” as well; so, without another Instant's hesitation, I set out upon my way upstairs. I felt my way along the landing, and at the top of the short flight which wound above I took out my match box. I struck a wax vesta, and began a deliberate survey of my surroundings. Jonas’ room, from which I had taken the bedding, was the first to the right, and a long, narrow passage, with four or five doors on either side, running from the back to the front of the house, lay straight before me. t On the left the passage was divided midway by another, the entrance to which gaped darkly, and I could see that there was a descent of a shallow, worn step or two. On the opposite side, according to my calculations, there should have been a similar intersection; but instead there was an additional door—a low, broad door, such as might be expected to give access to an attic or store room, painted a dull blue, and secured with rusty bolts aud bars, as though to stand a siege. “Beyond that barrier,” I said to myself,'thoughtfully, “lies the heart of the mystery of the .Spider Farm, _____

CHAPTER XXII. Skirting along the bed, I easily reached the wall, and so went shuffling on, until my fingers came in contact with a window frame. This room was, I conjectured, at the front of the house. I remembered that all these windows had been shuttered, and that, unlike the majority of houses, the shutters, of solid wood, were on the outside. It would be, I thought, almost too good to be true that the fastenings should prove to be such as I could tamper with from within. If it were so, it would scarcely have been worth the doctor’s while to bolt the blue door upon me, knowing well enough that I was riotthe sort of man to mind risking a jump for dear life from a first or second story window. I was not surprised, therefore, when my hands told me that iron bars had been placed closely together inside the window, which must have been shuttered before their insertion, and would thus be now impossible to open. Bars, for some reason, had been required. Had they been made visible from outside, questions might have been raised in the minds of chance visitors. Consequently, the heavy shutters had bdbn drawn together to hide the prisonlike effect of the cage within. Knocking against an occasional chair, a dressing table with a tilted mirror, and a large frame set high upon,, the wall (which, apparently, surrounded a painting on canvas), I ascertained during my peregrinations that there were two more windows, both shuttered and barred, and a low door which led into a cupboard. The door I opened, and the perfume of cedar rushed out. I felt gropingly about the interior, half execting to find that a door led through into some other room, and thus, despite the bolt that I had hopefully shot, I should be open to invasion from the enemy. But, so far as I could tell in the dark, there was nothing of the sort. Across the back there were hooks, ana on two of these bung some garments, long, and soft to the touch. I now knew my environment as well as I could before morning should send a few penetrating shafts of light through the chinks of the wooden shutters, and a certain hopelessness settled down upon me as I thought of the long, weary interval. A heavy stupor was upon me. I must sleep, I felt. Once more ascertaining that the bolt was fully shot, I found my way to the bed and flung myself down. WKeli I opened my eyes again a gray dusk had replaced the darkness. A few cracks in the shutters admitted enough light to show me my surroundings. I rose from the bed and began examining it. The huge ark evidently belonged to some period of furniture manufacture with which I was unfamiliar. There was no valance shrouding legs and space underneath, but the bed itself was made in the form of a huge box. Head and footboard were extensions of a solid, carved block of black oak. Four tall posts supported a carved canopy of oak, and cheap, faded curtains of some dark green woolen stuff depended from them. The door of the cedar cupboard was ajar, as I had left it in the night,, and a roll of something white, fallen from a hook to the floor, had been dragged partly out into the room. Half mechanically 1 started to walk across aud examine it, The white object which had fallen to the ground was a species of dressing gown of cheap lawq, which looked as though it might h’ave been purchased ready-made froth some country shop. But it could never have been (intended for Mrs. Heckleberry or her "clever daughter, Naomi.” There seemed to be a certain grace aud distinction about the •imply fashioned garment as it hung over my arm. My very fingers tingled as I asked myself if these folds had ever draped the form of Consuelo Hope. 1 knew that the Heckleberrys held some secret of hers. I suspected that the beautiful woman who had been brought under some strange circumstances, still a mystery to me. Into this hateful household was Consuelo herself. And if so, 1 might easily believe that in this room she had spent the period of her residence. I could but pray that it had been brief. Reverently now I replaced the white robe on the book at the back of the cupboard. Beside it was suspended a dark traveling cloak.. with a deep, gathered hood. Gently I lifted one of lt« folds. To my surprise, it was crusted with patches of long-dried mud of a rather peculiar color—deefl yellow, with a vein of Bo heavily was the back of the cloak coated with it that one might have

fancied that the wearer, wrapped In ft, had lain on ground which was sodden with standing pools of rain. ' The shelves which lined the tipper half of one side of the cupboard were empty, save for a bundle and a bottle or two, one of which held a few dregs of bright rose-colored liquid. Mechanically, I took it up and looked at the label: “A teaspoonful to be taken on every return of the fainting symptoms?’ Another, ranch smaller and half full, was ominously marked “Laudanum, poison,” and behind it lay a roll of some rough material. Long, stout pins field it in place. Styongly impelled, yet not knowing why I troubled myself with such a trivial thing at such a time, slowly I took them out. Then I unrolled the thing itself. It fell down before my eyes as I held it up, in awkward, creased folds, which for long had not been freed from their restrictions. “Great heaven!" I ejaculated. And my voice echoed dismally through the big, desolate room behind me. I was looking at a dress such as is worn by women in English prisons!" I staggered back, a great wave of enlightenment shooting as an arrow through my brain. I was out in the main room before I knew it. A thousand vague fancies and suggestions flashed into picture forms, hideous and tragic, and all bore some pattern or texture of that omlnons prison dress! Suddenly I heard a movement. Its echo, jarring and dull, seemed to permeate the wall nearest to me. I ran my eye up to where a single piece of drapery hung, and moved a chair towards it. I mounted it, and mechanically, expecting nothing, yet finding all! For the drapery had concealed a window, very small, but looking into an adjoining room, and I found myself peering into a space which was faintly lighted from some larger space beyond. In its center was a couch, and upon it, slumbering restlessly, though heavily, was a woman, fair, though disheveled, graceful, though her attitude was one of discomfort and pain. I recognized this person, this prisoner. I had discovered the latest secret of the obnoxious Spider Farm. It was Paula. (To be continued.)