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Las diagrammes suivants illustrent le mOthode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 MicaocorY msowtion tbt chart (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART Ho. 7} 1*0 *^ 1^ ^ 13.6 U Mm Ik tarn |2^ it»S 1^ 1.4 HI.6 ^ /APPLIED IIVMGE In^ 1653 East Main Street RochMtar, N«« York U609 USA (716) 482 - 0300 - Photw (716) 288- 5989 -Fo> VA. ■u^ I ' S?-5 ^ 1^ •> ' ay 6»e NECKLACE of PANDURA By REQINALO QOURLAY BROADWAY PUBLISHING CO* 835 BROADWAY, NEW YORK AiiiMHiittik^ttaiiBI warn Oiof I 'Or- ^ Copyright 1907 BY RBGINAI^D GOURI^AY ^11 rights reser fd •APRBS." Ob, loved and loit, can the paning yean Bring aught that will e'er atone For loaa of the love, past doubts and fears. That once was ours alone ? I«ost through the malice of slandrous foes, Lost,— while beloved and lovely still,— No grief of all Earth's myriad woes Can strike my heart so deep and chill. With thee is lost the light of life. That led to hope, to peace,— to God Through Earth's wild field of wolfish strife. While by me thy light footstep trod. mm THE NECKLACE OF PANDURA; OR, THE CORD, THE POISON, AND THE SHADOW. "A strange but beautiful ornament this," said I to my uncle, the old East India Colonel. "It is indeed a very strange ornament," re- turned he dryly, as he replaced it in the small steel coffer from which I had lifted it— "and has stranger attributes — and uncanny ones I" "This same ornament— if the tale I heard of it when it came into my hands from my uncle, an old East Indian soldier like myself — be true — and I have reason to believe it is" — he added gravely, closing the coffer, "is no present for a bride!" We had been choosing from among his splen- did and unique collection of Eastern gems, a suitable wedding present for my promised bride, beautiful Mary Trevor, when I thus first beheld the accursed thing, which — but for the warning I was soon to receive about its dangers — might, I firmly believe, have wrecked the happiness of my life. "Why, what on earth can you mean?" ex- claimed I, taking the ornament again from the box, and holding it up to the light. "It is mag- iiNfli • The Necklace of Panduia. nificent enough for a princess* wedding preMnt and would tempt any woman." , It was indeed a curious and beautiful piece of jewelry. It waa a necklace of exquisite Indian goldsmith s work, with a pendant of a single im- mense blazing ruby of great beauty and value. Below this were three pearls— all large, and of the finest quality. The outer ones were the ordi- nary white pearls, though peculiarly fine speci- "?"• J"« centre one was a splendid black pearl, which iterally glowed with a peculiar translu- cf .t splendor, though its beauty and value were somewhat spoiled to the eves of a connoisseur by the fact that there was an inscription on it in some unknown Oriental characters. "Do you know what that means?" said my uncle abruptiy, pointing to the mysterious letters on the gem. "Not I," I replied, scrutinizing the queer char- acters closely; '^t's an unknown script to me. Or- dinary Hindustanee. and mighty litUe of that, fills up my stock of knowledge of East Indian languages." "WeU, these are Punjanbee characters," said he, and this is a necklace sacred to the great and terrible goddess Kalee-.or Kali-godde« of pes- tilence, bloodshed, and murder, and patronesfof the horrible order of Thuggee,' whose votaries strangled thousands of victims with the 'sacred cord m honor of the goddess. This order has only just been suppressed by the British govern- ment m India-if it has been quite suppressed. HT iT * necklace was given to my uncle by a Mahratta pnncess, before the Mutiny, who had ^Ei^,... : The Necklace op Panduka. $ been his mist :ss, and who, it would seem from his ule — gave it to him not altogether with a beneficent motive. "Her ancestors obtained it — ^stole it, that i»— from the statue of the goddess i.i her great tem- ple in Benares long ago. "It was supposed to the owner of it, if a man, and if it was not worn by a wcMnan. "Now you may call me superstitious, Harry Gialoner, my uncle, Colonel Chaloncr, went on, pulling the while his great white moustac'ie, "but when I've read you the inscription on that thing, and y u've heard my uncle's story about it, youll understand at least why I'm going to choose some other wedding present for Mary." "What is the infernal inscription in plain Eng- lish?" I interrupted, for I was very curious now. Who wouldn't be? "This is it," answered Colonel Chaloner. "Just as my uncle translated it to me. How he got its meaning I don't know, but he had some reason — as you shall hear — to think it wasn't put there on the pearl for nothing. It means hterally this: 'The Cord, the Poison, and the Shadow to her that wears me.' " "You observe that it sa)rs 'to her that wears me. "By Jove!" said I, getting up with my hanr ' in my pockets, half derisive, half impressed, for I had lived some time in India myself — "a gen- uine bit of Indian 'Black Magic,* and a genuine necklace of the great goddess Kali! She would have no women among her tetrible votaries, I re- member; that is, among the actual stranglers. 4 The Necklace of Pandura. though lots of women were employed to entice and cajole the intended victim, knd even t? o^ cupy his attention till the cord was actually round his neck. That perhaps is the cause of this pret- ty strongly worded prohibition against a woman wearing the sacred jewel. Butf uncle, do y^ seriously believe here in sensible prosaic England far away from the superstitious mystic East, that there's anything unlucky or dangerous about a woman swearing this fine necklace? Whv it's a woman's ornament !" '' * "Yes, that's just where the trap came in I" sairl S>:f ll'^T.'- """' i'"J *^" y°" mTZ.^'l sto^y about the thmg, and then tell me what you think ^°tn17-?r' ' ^°" ^8^i^e it in his own words as he told It to me but just give you the gist of it ^r£T ^ "i"'^ *' T^ ^^ t° ^J^at I remember r«K ; J^^i remember, too, that his tale is cor- roborated by facts— terrible facts I" Well, to get to it. A great many years ago my uncle and your great uncle. General ChaloSr "It was just before the great Mutiny of 'q8 Wt. k'^?u^°'"^ *'? ^^^^^' ^^"^ ahndst heart- broken by the mysterious and tsrrible death of his young wife, married but a few weeks before He told me that I was his heir in any case, and that he might as well give me these things to'p "t away at my banker's, for I was at once to join my r^? iment in India for the first time as 'a Griffin'-- the name we had then for newly joined officers. As for myself,' he said, 'I have but a few days at most to live !' ^ The Necklace of Pansitsa. $ "Now, my uncle was then a man under fifty — strong, bronzed by service, and with a frame of steel. He was deeply depressed, it is true, by hb wife's cruel and strange taking off, but as far as health went, he looked less likely to die suddenly than I do at this moment. "I said as much, thinking he was distracted by his grief. Then he opened this coffer, drew out this necklet, and read me the inscription on it, and told me what reason he had to know that the threat and warning on the devilish thing were terribly backed by some devilish power. "You don't find old army officers, or old resi- dents in India, from the Viceroy or the Comman- der-in-Chief down, who don't believe that there are unseen principalities and powers in old Asia that exist — can show their might, and had better not be meddled with by sceptical Europeans ! "This infernal talisman," said he, holding up this very necklace, "was given me a year ago as a wedding present to my young bride by the Maharanee (Princess) of Ranapore, at whose court in far upper India close to Nepaul (where no white man goes) and where Nana Sahib un- doubtedly took refuge after the Muntiy from English vengeance, I had for a long time been 'Resident.' In 'John company's' day they fre- quently sent a military man as 'Resident' to those dangerous outlying 'Protected States.' They found it worked better. "I served her well, and saw her daily. These women of the East either love or hate strongly, and at once, and in short, she soon became my mistress. The 'Ranee was a beautiful, clever vol- 6 The Necklace of Pandura. cano of a woman, like many of those brillianf in •h!f!;'"^'.'.°"'^''"^^^«^' refined savagS St"; ™ wi r,S°'S'-.'° "* °"'")- Her ove fo" but afterJl ?*i?'P**^ ^^^'■y Pheasant interview The Necklace of Pandura. 7 quite alone in a small luxuriously furnished room adjoining her private apartments. We had met there before, and I observed with some misgiving that the great anti-chambers were filled with armed Pathan guards. But with the wonderful and subtle dissimulation of the high caste Orien- tal woman, she received me with the sad, sweet melancholy of one who bows to the inevitable. " 'Chaloner Sahib !' she said, 'I have loved you much, and thought, being but a foolish woman, to have loved you long. But we are even as leaves blown before the breath of the Gods !' "Then she drew forth this steel coflFer from her robes, and opening it showed me this fatal orna- ment of death. ' I only ask this/ she went on, 'in memory of the love we dreamed would outlast the very shrines of the Gods!' (She poinded through the lattice to the great temple of Bhrama, which shut out the whole view beyond the, Palace grounds.) 'It is that you will give this necklet to the fair Ferenghee girl who is your bride as a wedding gift from the Maharanee Pandura Mahal. It is beautiful and not unworthy of even so fair a maid and so brave and true a lover !' and she laughed somewhat strangely. "I took it, for I didn't know what else to do, and indeed was relieved at being let off so ear IK'. "I passed out from her presence with what grace I might, which was indeed but little, for as you nay imagine, I felt small — despicably small, leaving her standing drawn up to her full height, looking steadfastly after me with that strange, li 8 The Necklace of Pandura. surprise-for I ^ ^!5„ , ""'~'i'>><»t to my ™ he. service. laid Ws^ffi^i rST'™* the'S^ecfon^lr^o^asf "S;; ^.if' '""^ Ferenghee, neither yl„ „ *eL '^i {J",*"- passed alive through these^o«,?,t T"" ■"« known how the ^M Steffi,™ ."u "' "' carry, punishes treache?7S , ^ '"'?' J'™ and her faithful S^I^ell To^«'a'°/"-«=« wherel^SrVrfa"""''^ '° Ca'"«^. of a week!) was awahfj ' ^"""F wife-bride about a foriigjfs 'a hi; »irrr^"«« ■ arms. "^^ ""^^ "lore m my great piazza or verandas aU .rn S"'""""' ^'^ ated in the midst ^£^114"'°"^ ^^ ^^t"" It was shaded hyhtavUvf^v^T''^ °^ 8^^^^°- vantY' Itf^aS 'S^'lS ^tr"" - da. « a fata, n,on,en',"ltorrtht ^'keTSS The Necklace of Pandura. $^ - showed Jeanie the wedding gift of the Maharanee Pandura. "It seemed at once to have a strange fascina- tion for her — so much so that she insisted on clasping it round her neck at once. Of course, I had told her nothing of the ominous words of the 'Ranee when she gave it to me, and indeed had already quite persuaded myself that they were the mere meaningless threats of a piqued woman. "We were then sitting together on the broad veranda which surrounded the bungalow. Be- fore us the great masses of banked foliage of bamboo, of palm, pepul, cassiar, and a hundred other trees and shrubs made dense obscure re- cesses of blackness, though laced here and there with silver streaks by the just rising moon, their great leaves rattling in the cooling night wind like the slats of a quickly twirled window shutter. "As the clasp of the necklet snapped together on her white throat, a strange chill, without any, discoverable reason, ran thro"gh my veins. It> was like the chill we feel when the vulgar say] 'that someone is walking over our grave'; or! when, as the Arabs say, 'Allah is deciding the hour of our death.* "But I turned towards Jeanie, who had sprung up, crying 'Look! what's that?' and as I live, I saw — we both saw — a tall, black shadow like that of a veiled woman, cross the broad road just at our feet and fade into the ebony mas'^es of the foliage that lined it. "I ran swiftly down the steps, Ic every- where about, called even. There wat thing to be seen; notiiing to be heard but the wmd pour- xo The Necki^ce of Pandura. I mg tijrough the great leaves of the bamboos and "l «„ K??' ^*'"^'^' <=°"^« here I Quick!' back m her ^. "P *^' '*"P^- My wife w« drawn The wrdarrtln*" £'"; *»"'» "-^"t? 3.UTj^sto5r„e-r«/^?^^ your presence unsent for *" ^° ~"^ "*° closeJ/'"ff da?k''!:'2'' n^^'/J-^Ping me pointed to the dZrv.Z^f' J^"""^ iheret.sht oh, what a dre;^,7!^^~'°^^"«^ »' "»«! And, awful eyes I' "^ '^^^'^^ ^"^ ^h^t awful, exdSra^W^-t do you mean, dear?" whispered wTf^^ ^°- ' ^ ?^ "^°"^^"t«/ «he mg cWU tCl fl T"^"."^^ *^^ «a™e shiver- blackshaTowfeuLri, ^J"/* "^^' «>d i time. I sterTed " H * f ^-^om behind this iiflrted, and t urned roun d. And there-- / The Necklace of Pandura. IX 1 ^ust m the doorway — ^bending forward and look- ing intently at me, was a tall dark femaTe form, robed from head to foot in black, clinging gar- ments. " 'But this time the veil was raised, and from' beneath it two burning eyes glared on me as T sat frozen in my chair. " 'Oh, Charlie, those eyes ! Do you remember those of that tigress just trapped in the jungle when some natives were bringing her out in a rude cage ? Well, they were just like hers I Only more intelligent — more demon-like! And they were fixed on me, and the creature was bending towards me like that tigress about to spring I' " 'Then I screamed for you, and you came — and the creature was gone. But I know she is lurking somewhere in the house. Oh, Charlie, I am afraid ! Take me away from this place !' "I was more than startled, as you may suppose, by this strange appearance, and its effect on Jeanie, but still clung to the hope — in fact, hon- estly believed — that she had but been frightened by some crazy fanatic. Such people are common enough in Calcutta. "I rang for servants, had the house lit up, and spent some time in reassuring and cheering my wife, at'last apparently completely succeeding in doing so. Then I removed the baleful ornament from her neck, telling her carelessly that I must put it away. This I did, locking it up in its cof- fer, and placing it among my other valuables. "Then, telling her to await me in her boudoir, at the door of which I placed a trustworthy ser- vant, so that she might not feel nervous in my ab- 13 The Necklace of Pamddka. s«icc, I took Rujeet Sing, my Shikaree, and an- other resolute and faithful servant, and searched the house from garret to cellar. No trace of a livmg thmg outside the members of my own household was to be found. "Much easier in mind now, I went back to Jeanie, and found her— she being a girl of courageous spirit and elastic temperament— al- ready disposed to laugh at her fears. 1, ?.^^ °"^y I *^^*^y fanatic, as I said, dear,' I caUed to her as I entered the room. There are hundreds of them in a great city like this. I'U make the servants keep strict watch to-night so as to be sure nothing of the sort enters the house agaui. To-morrow, since you've been so frieht- ened here, we'll go to a hotel for the week before the ship sails. ' '"Very well,' said Jeanie, laughing. 'I'm ashamed to have been such a little fool. But now you have an important dispatch to write (this was true enough). Hurry and finish it, for it is . late. I dont feel a bit sleepy, so I'll wait till youve done on the veranda, on the other side, where the wind is so cooling, if you'll place some of the people within call.' "Right, love," said I, kissing her. "I'll post Kujeet Smg and another man at the door where you saw the woman. They'll be withia easy call, and yet not so near as to disturb you. "I kissed her again, and we parted, I to write my dispatch, and she to go back to the veranda. 1 did not, however, tell her of a singular thinj? which happened during our search of the hous^ The NtcKLAci o» Paitouia. 13 for I made lieht of it at the time, and did not want to disturb her mind again. "As we had passed through the hall, after ■earchmg the upper part of the house, one of the servants— a sweeper and low caste man— came •ataanimg and crouching to me, and said, putting lorth his hands deprecatingly, ^Iw'i 5'"?*'?°' °^ '^"^ ^°°''' The Mem- bahib (lady) has seen The Dark One!' The Mem Sahib »s right Take her away I Not till she is on 'the Black Water' (the sea) will she be sate! "We couldn't get a word of explanation out of mm, or indeed another word, good or bad, and I disregarded his saying as the babble of native superstition, but, oh, if I had but taken Teanie away that night! "' "I finished my dispatch in rather less than an hour, and, rising, went to call my wife. I found the servants awake and vigilant ifxf *^ P°^**^ *^*^™ ^y th« doorway. My wife was on the part of the broad veran- da (which ran all round the bungalow) that was just round the comer of the house, and was *"fr*^°r^ .°"* o^ sight of the servants, but, as I said, withm easy call. Now, remember! These men had heard no^/wn^— absolutely nothing— to awake on their minds the slightest suspicion that anything was wrong. "I called 'Jeanie !' in my ordinary voice— then louder— thinking she might have fallen asleep- then strode forward round the comer of the veranda, followed by the servants. ^1! rn- \\ 14 The Necklaoe of Pandura. **TJe veranda was mostly in shadow, but with braul ban of the moonlight spread across it. She was lyiiq^ on a broad lounge at the fur- ther come.-. I was approaching her, still think- uig that she was asleep, when something strange- ly contorted in her attitude struck me and made my heart stand stiU. There seemed to be a broad «?.r° u °"****"**^ white across her face, too. With one bound I was beside her. There lay my young bride dead— strangled by some dem- on s hand I A broad silk sash had been thrown across her face, effectually and at once stifling the slightest outcry, on her fair white arms were the purple marks of strong clutching hands, and round her neck, which the cursed necklace had just encircled, was a deep black ring, which marked where the cord of the strangler had been. Her limbs were horribly contorted— and her face I Oh, Heaven ! I can't tell you more ! If it were not that I know I am soon to join her. I would go mad !" "My poor uncle 1" I exclaimed in pity and hor- ror. Most cruel— most horrible I Some devilish Thuggee murder, of course, in some way con- nected with the necklace consecrated to Kali." So thought every one— so thought the Gov- ernment, he answered sadly, "and Calcutta and naif Indw were scoured for weeks by hundreds of Government agents and detectives ; and what's more, m India, immense rewards were offered without— needless to say— the slightest result. I think otherwise. I think that the East has its own gods and its own mysteries. I think that for some unknown reason whoever lets a white The Necklace of Pandura. 15 woman wear that demon's necklace, awakens "Why, uncle, why?" He took from his desk a letter— or rather ^'^^Jtr^""*" '" Hindustanee characters. frorth!*p*" ^D^^"'" \^'*'^- "This came from the Ranee Pandura Mahal th • very day LSls *'""w'"' '''?r'"«^ *h«* she had been so oertam of what would occur, that she had sent her messenger after me the very day after mv departure from her court and some time befori the crime was committed. It runs thus: wif. °L cT J'^'''" ^^'^ y°""& Ferenghee wife, .haIoner-Sah»b-true and honorable Feren- ghee soldier— the gift of necklace of Kali. No mortal can be punished for the deed. The God- dess herself hath honored your house. .\nd know this also, for your comfort— In a man's hands the talisman is harmless— nay, even brings good fortune. But whoever lets a woman of your race wear it, on him falls also the Shadow— *""X?i, T. . t. P*"^»^^ Mahal." WheAer I m right or wrong we'll soon see. I care little Take these jewels in keeping, my lad, as a gift irom your old uncle, who has made you his heir, and who wishes you well in your career. But, remember, I charge you as my last request, never let any white woman ever even see that necklace ! Good-bye I" T^^^^J*'^'"^ *h* ^*^* ^°''^5 ' ever heard him speak. Three days afterwards he was found sit- ting upright in his great arm chair in his study. The door of the room was locked on the inside m ^, ir 10 Twt NiCKLACB OF PaNODIA. ?S ^ V." F**^y ■'^®"«" »"<* blackened with suffused blood, to was his left arm and shoul- der, and on the wrist of that left arm were two deep punctures, exactly like those made by the teeth of a cobra. ' * i"^ "!f recommend you, nephew Harry, to take that fine rope of Ceylon pearls as a weddimr mft for your fiance, Mary Trevor, instead of the necklet you admire so much." I drew a longr breath, and spoke for the first ^"? ™y »nc'e bad beg^un his narrative. Thanks, uncle, I mil take that splendid rope of pearls for Mary. As for that infernal thin^ I d send It back to my banker's at once— or, bet- ter still, row out with it to sea a mile or so. and drop ,t m. The necklace of Kali is no wedding gift for an English woman I" ^^^ : > u^r Tb Nkxlaci or Pambuba. n THE CAPTURE OF TOM DARE. There were some peculiarities about my Eng- luh friend, Tom Dare. To begin with, he was an enthusiastic sportsman. There's nothing strange about that. Most Englishmen of his type are. But then, he was besides, one of the worst shots (when he first came out to this country — he improved afterwards) that I ever saw "waste his lead upon the desert air." Now, most Englishmen of his type (he was the younger son of a Buckinghamshire squire) are excellent shots, being "to the manor bom," as It were, which made this defect of his the more remarkable. He was very credulous in some thmgs, particularly as regards game and shoot- mg m America. Here again, he resembled many other Englishmen. But, as a western friend— who had, I believe, made the experiment— re- marked, "Any one that tried to pick up Tom Dare for a fool, got left— and left bad." He was brave, generous, and impulsive, much more re- sembling an Irishman than an Englishman in this last respect. He was not, perhaps, strong enough to knock down an ox after the fashion of the old Greek heroes ; but he could knock down a man with ease and dispaich, if the occasion warranted it. He wa» very near-sighted, which accounted in r X8 The Necklace of Panduia. part for his f.aquent bad shots, and he always wore what he called "glawses." His principal characteristics, when I first knew hun, were, First, a most determined and persistent passion for the pursuit of all sorts of game, large and small, and. Second, a rooted and mveterate distrust of the fairer portion of the human race. This last trait of his gave me a sort of foreboding anxiety about him from the first hours of our acquaintance. It seemed to point at him unerringly as one predestined to an early doom— or to an early marriage, which is much the same thing. I never saw a mysogynist yet, that any clever girl couldn't capture in a week, if she thought it worth her while. So I kept an eye on Tom Dare, as I liked him from the first, and knew what the fate of a viru- lent woman hater like him would be, if any as- tute female once got on his trail. wr?^^^/^*^^^^ ^^^ ^'" ^^°w what success I had. When I first saw Tom, it was on the Canadian Grand Trunk train, going west, somewhere be- tween Kingston and Toronto. His compartment m the Pullman car resembled a small shop for the sale of sporting goods, or an exhibit of deadly and murderous weapons. Gun and rifle cases lay around him. He had evidently not been able to endure their removal from his sight to the bag- gage car. At every stop, he would move for- ward to the said car, and inspect a huge St. Ber- nard, a pair of pointers, and an evil minded bull- dog with mournful solicitude. These interesting animals were making about as much noise as a The Necklace of Pandura. «9 pack of hounds in full cry; and two of them — the St. Bernard and the bulldog — were danger- ous to come near. There is a singular freemasonry among sportsmen of the genuine order. So some ideas exchanged on sporting t pics, and some timely assistance I was able ; r give him ii soothing his excited quadrupeds, aucd him t: chat quite freely on various con ,'etiial topics I soon found out ilji lie /as bound for the very city I lived in, and that he had letters of in- troduction to several people I knew. On finding out that we had mutual acquaintances — English- man-like — Dare expanded at once, and I was soon in possession of most of his experiences, tribulations, and trials since his recent arrival in the New World; and of some of his hopes and plans for the future. He had some property left him by a deceased maiden aunt, besides the usual younger son's allowance; so he was able to a great extent to follow his own inclinations. These inclinations led him to Canada "to look about him," and, incidentally, to lessen the num- ber of wild animak in that country by every means in his power. He confided to me in a burst of enthusiasm, invoked by some appreciative remarks of mine, betokening a congenial spirit — that "Spawt" — "real wild spawt" — was at present the guiding star of his existence, and that to en- joy it, unfettered by any of the effete restraints which hedged it in at home, was the chief reason of his leaving his native shore. "Besides, don't ye know," he went on with re- freshing candor; "out here you can get spawt ■ilMiiiAtM^rdBkflta flO The Necklace of Pandura. without having women always botherin' after you, as they're getting to do in England. As a rule, I cawn't bear women— and they cawn't bear me. At least they couldn't till my awnt left me her property. I consider 'em a sort of necessary evil at the best; and when they take to joinin' in, and spoilin' all kinds of spawt (shootin' particu- larly), as they've taken to doing now; they're an unmixed evil. Why, I pledge ye my word, just aftaw I came into my awnt's money, a girl from Lunnon, who was staying at our place, would actually hang herself onto me when I'd go out shootin' (partridge driving— that sawt of thing, ye know). Would do it, and she insisted on fiawmg a gun at last. And when she did flaw it, she pulled both triggers at once, and kicked her- self ovah backwards, and knocked all her hair- pins out. Then she called me a murderaw— said It was all my fault! I had to lug her home, and lost the best day's spawt that season. Aftaw that, I cut the old country and came out heah." I asked him how he liked the New World as far as he'd got. "Well, don't ye know," said he, "I'm rather disappomted so far. There seem to be just as many girls hangin' about in New York and Hali- fax and Montreal as there are in England. But most likely, things will improve up country. Then, as to spawt. Of cawse, I haven't regularly set to work yet. Haven't had the chawnce, ye know. Only tried my luck once, when I got to a place called Kingston a few days ago. I had to put m a week there arranging about forwarding The Necklace of Panduxa. at my remittances from England. So I thought I'd 'prospect a bit,' as you Qinadian fellows say. "So I took my gun and dogs, and the train, and got off at a small station a few miles out in the woods. It was a glorious September mawn- ing, and I was truly more happy than for yeahs. Deep wild forest all around me — ^no botherin' girls, no wretched conventionalities I I shot some squirrels, and what you call partridges, but saw no deahs or beahs. I was just reflecting, how- ever, that they would probably be scarce neah a place the size of Kingston — when, to my infinite delight, I stumbled on a flock of wild turkeys. They were ridiculously tame — so much so that though far from being a good shot, I soon got six. And me pointaws caught one, and the bull- dog anothaw. I was collecting my game with the joy and pride that only a true sportsman can feel, when I heard a series of the most awful shouts and execrations, and lookin' up, I per- ceived a dreadfully wild and unkempt old woman comin' at me with a pitchfork. I gathered from her uproarious and singularly rude remawks that 'she was a squatter in that block of woods,' and that I had been ''-astatin' her flock of turkeys. I had to pay t- -hilars for those birds. So my first day's sp the wilds of Canada was a wretched disappomtment." I cheered up Dare with the hope of better things, when I would be able to show him some- thing of real Canadian shooting; for I could see that he had the disposition of a true sportsman, and as we were drawing near the city of our des- tination, offered to help him disembark his dogs, fi 33 The Necklace of Pandura. and get them safely off to whatever hotel he might select as his resting place for the night. ♦t, u ,f?*'°" ^^^ ^^""y crowded, a matter which the bulldog seemed to consider as a personal in- sult to himself. We had got a cab at last, and had begun to stow away the first instalment of firearmsf when some one accidentally kicked the bull dog, who forthwith froze tc him wth a silent attention to fcusii:ess that showed me Dare hadn't boasted at an when ne said it was a thoroughbred. That wasn't all. The big St. Bernard, who had been as good as gold up till then, seeing the bulldog at work, uttered a roar like a lion, and pulled d?wn the cabman, while the pointers, who were coupled together, got their chain entangled round some adies, and then pulled against each other with panic stricken howls. «™ ^""l-^?^ ''■y'J^S^ *° ^^o'^e off his dogs. a^^.«n^ «'* ^""- P^'^ P'*°'"P«y '^"o^^ked the aggressor qo»»ii, and a fierce battle of dogs and '"^J? *o°Jf PJace over his prostrate carcass. This spawtmg" episode was terminated only by Dare s having to pay a smart sum to the bit- ten men, m order to avoid being summoned ; and we got off to the hotel at last, where we parted after arranging various shooting expeditions. ' ,Jf^^' "^/"^ ^!"^®' presented his letters of in- troduction to various families, was taken up very kindly by society, and "put up" at most of tlZ clubs; and was even to be seen, with an intense expression of hopeless gloom overshadowing his funcf''"^""' ^^'^^""S *t various fashioSaWe The Necklace of Pandura. 23 X met him often at the club and elsewhere, and got to like him very much. We had managed to get off for a day's shooting two or three times together, though with great difficulty, as it was almost impossible for Dare, at this period of his advent, to escape from the toils woven round him by fashionable sirens. For, alas ! it had gone abroad among the fai*- dames of the city that Tom was distinctly eligible, besides being of good family, and "English, you know." Of course, not. being a bankrupt Duke, or a "done up" Nobleman, Tom was hardly big enough game for the American Heiress with a big H, but he was an excellent match notwith- standing for any girl with reasonable expecta- tions ; besides being a good, honest manly fellow, though of course that was merely a minor con- sideration to most of the many matrons who al- ready had an eye en him for dear Jane, or darling Gladys, or Ethel. So, if he had left the old country for solitary sport, and to escape feminine blandishments, Tom might have been said to have slipped out of the frying pan into the fire. Siill, we had a day or two out after such game as the neighborhood afforded. Dare had learned by this time that elk and caribou did not abound in the vicinity of New York; that buffalo were extinct on the Hamilton mountain, and in the neighborhood of Toronto. In fact, that they were virtually extinct everywhere in America. Also that to get big game anywhere in America, you must go a long way back. So he pursued the partridge, the wild duck, and the rabbit, with ■■MMniHiiiaiH i^ 1 M Tbe Necklace of Pandotu. .ventag when i, was'S^o"/ daTiftorTIC B.a„,ed .c„d sS't S" li^hU or ek^-rJ a i»mful thought seemed to strite hiwJ'r^ shot one of Saunders' does I" wS ,TZ •" rAJtC^^'s-S^doriS dared not tell th*> h*.r»o„J!i c *» . ^^ iiterally happened jus then whlll ^^""^"'■^ ^^^^ ^^d skulked away towaVds 1 ^""^1'""'^' '° ^* departed, thenar rent wththe^'v'fr*^' ^^ ^« of the unconscious Saunders as hf'r '"^ ^""^ call one, who Wcp fh^ • ', ^^. "^ strove to re- "Raven," C^ld return /h'^ '" ^^^"'^ P°«'» Next Hav ni return, ah, nevermore!" X^l«t day. Dare confessed to Saunders. But The Necklace of Panduua. as rm not writing a tragedy, so I won't describe the scene. Next trip Dare got more game, but he also put the best part of a charge of No. lo (dust shot, luckily) mto the back of a (previously) uncon- scious farmer, who was smoking a restful pipe beneath the maple boughs. The man so stir- ringly aroused from autumnal day dreams, never knew who hit him, for Ton. and I managed to elude him, though we heard him routing like a demon through the woods for a long time. A few days after this last adventure, Dare was mvited by a Mr. Parkes, a well-to-do merchant of the city, to spend a few weeks at a hunting lodge he had, on one of the upper lakes in Mus- koka, for the purpose of having some deer shoot- ing. A similar invitation was extended to myself. We both accepted with alacrity. The only draw- back about the matter, in Dare's opinion, was that Mrs. Parkes, and a party of ladies, her friends, were to accompany us ; for the "lodge in the wilderness" was a commodious one, and there was no fear that they would have to roueh it. ^ "Great bawl" Tom remarked to me at the club the day after receiving the invitation. "It must be sheer perversity — cawn't be anything else, ye know — that makes a lot of women lug themselves and their traps at this time of the yeah up into the nawthern wilderness, merely to prevent a lot of fellows who've nevah done 'em any harm from having the least chawnce of spawt. Women don't really like spawt. They I] a6 -The Ntcklaci OF Pandotu. hUSi!*' ''^ °"'^ ^1"** °* ^"°^' *«y ^»'ke'» "»» .2? •. ^°" "*^^ "y '^°^^' my boy; thevTl either stop our shootin'^ altogether and keep us Jjuvm round with 'cm erubbin' up ferns, or chiovymg aftaw autumn leaves, or else they'll msist on goin' out shootin' with us. and ♦hen some of 'em '11 pt kUled trying to show of!.'' .oj7?" .^°?]- * J*. ^ *«'■<* °n them, Dare," SMd I, 'If Miss Helen Seebright and her auAt were gomg to be of the party.'^ Dare looked at me with a gaze of dreamv and of what, in view of subsequent events, I may almost call prophetic melancholy. "They are so- mg to be of the pawty." said he, and looked up rJv!? "gar smoke circling towards the ceiling m a k>st sort of way. * fr/Jn*" ^l"** ^""^ i*'*'" '*^^ ^' ^ooWng at my friend with grave, almost sympathetic interest Now, It may be said here, that I'd observed from seeing them together at various garden ^i^l^f dances that this same Miss Helen bcebright was rapidly causing Mr. Tom Dare to make one exception at least, to his rule that all women were born merely to deceive and oppress mankind; and prevent them from enjoying any sensible amusement in peace. I'd noticed with astonislunent that Tom actually liked to talk to her and even tolerated her dreadful aunt, evi- dently for her sake. Ao^'5 ^ll*" Seebright was, I must adr.at, now that Its all over, a very nice girl, and a verv dever g,rl, too, as I'd reason to f dmit soon. sf2 hadnt a cent being dependent entirely on her aunt aforesaid, Mrs. McKetchar. The Necklace of Pandura. 37 She was that dangerous and pcrolexinir thino. she hadn t a good feature in her face, as thev al- ^u^'J^A ?^ 'r'^^' S'^'«- They wei wr^^ abundant ^T'^ ^^^ ^>-^^' ^^"t'f«l ^^tl^d ?i,i? ? V ^u""^^ ^^*^^«' with a good fitmre (which she had) are all that a man cares Kt in the way of feminine beauty. She san^ « qmsitely and had that rare cha^rm-a sweef sofi voic- when speaking. ' " Th^?'!r f' ^''^ r°^'d make herself interesting. I£a ie Hked'^a^d ' ' '^'. ' "?f " *^'"^ ^^^ ^^^^d wnat ne iked , and, incidentally, manage to con- vey the impression to his mind that Ws sem"- ments, opmu^ns and ideas on all subjects were superior and admirable. So that she was Tito gether a dangerous little person for a man who" didn t^ want to fall in love, to have anyXg" to Her aunt Mrs. McKetchar, was briefly what IS called m Western America, "A Terror " She was a tall, lank woman, with a long face like a horse, ornamented by a prodigious Roman nose, above which a pair of small, rat-Hke twbk" Img black eyes shone beneath a glarinSv fSse front of faded brown hair. She wi the wife of an impecunious M. P., who had spent Tws means, and a great deal more, getting into "the House," and who now lived on his ^wTts and some mysterious thing ailed "Patronag^ "' wW^h somehow seemed at times to bring in |uite a lot of money. She was an English woman but the careless way in which she dealt with the letter H, when excited, or indeed, at all unguarded m^ aB The Necklace of Panduka.' ments, showed she was not exactly descended frwn one of the county families. She was a peat match maker, and incidentally, match breaker. She had married her own daughters oflF well, by dint of sheer effrontery— what the vul- t ^r call "gall." When she wasn't match making, she was mis- chief making. To conclude, she could cringe to those above her, or to '^ose from whom she wanted to get anything, and insult those from whom she had nothing to gain or expect, as only a vulgar lower middle class English woman can. The very next night after our talk at the club, I heard (accidentally, and quite involuntarily) a few words of a conversation between Miss See- bright and Dare, at a garden party, which made me reflect. 'Twas but a fragment, but significant. I had been seized, nolens volens, by dear old Mrs. McKetchar, who cornered me in a nook of one of the piazzas, near a small conservatory, where she, having first ma If me bring her some light re- freshment, proct d-d to put me through a good steady catechism as to my friend, Mr. Dare: his means, family expectations, etc., etc. I evaded her for a time, but driven desperate at last by the vulgar directness of her questions, I adopted the expedient recommended by Bismarck in similar circumstances, of telling all I knew, and a great deal more. I'd just finished informing her that, though a commoner himself, two of Dare's uncles were dukes, who, unfortunately for Dare, had taken a solemn oath on the great altar at West- minster Abbey (having travelled up to London Tbb Necklace or Panouka. 19 from their country seats for the express purpose) to disown their nephew if he married durinR his travels m America, While she was pondering over this important piece of mformation, she suddenly perceived the Bishop of the diocese, whom she was always badgermflr about something or other, and sayine guickly that "she would be back in a hinstant to finish our delightful conversation, was off in pur- suit of the unhappy prelate like a hawk after its prey. She left her fan, and sundry other impedi- menta m myu:harge, so I couldn't bolt. She had scarcely gone when I beard the voices of Miss beebnght and Tom Dare from the small conser- vatory. The young lady spoke first. 'I assure you, Mr. Dare, I was never so vexed in my life, as when I found my aunt had bound us both over to go on this Muskoka trip. Girls are out of place in these shooting trips. It's so new-womanish, too!" Dare (interrupting) : "Oh, don't dream of thinking that, Miss Helen ! Some girls would be m the way, but yo«— so chawming, so— so— so " (Words fail him.) Miss Helen (quite calm) : "That's very nice of you, Mr. Dare, but it's only your good nature In summer a mixed party is all very well. But in the fall, when men want to shoot, and roueh It, women are nuisances." (Dare's very senti- ments, as expressed to me a short time before ) Dare: "Oh, Miss Helen! Really now! The ideah of your being a nuisance 1—evah— any- where!" (Laughs wildly.) ^ Miss Helen (calmly pursuing the subject): 30 Tm NtcKLAcs or Panbuba. "And all manly men, like you, Mr. Dare, dont «re to see women out of their places, thoueh I do love the woods with all my heart The ^ly tune when I long to be a man is when I see some of vou setting off on your shooting expedi- tions. How glorious to gallop through the prinv eval forest on your thoroughbred horses, in pur- »««of bears, and— and— porcupines I" uM."v"^*'**~*^""'ni^— enthralling I But I bheve they don't chase beahs on horseback in (..anada; and as I'm infawmed porcupines live up twees, in holes in the wocks, you cawn't gal- lop aftaw them on horses much." Miss Helen (with feminine logic) : "Yes, but the pnnciples the same. The woodland life is unique, as you say so cleverly— enthralling. But 1 promise you, though, if I have to go, that youll see very little of me during the trip?' Dare (aghast) : "Oh, don't say anything so cruel. Miss Helen! When a fellah's chief in- ducement to go was to have the chawnce of see- mgyou often!' (What next, Tom? thought I.) Miss Helen (looking at him very effectively) : w n'^'xT"*^®^ that may I believe, I wonder? vveii, Mr. Dare, you re so nice about it, that I almost wish you were my brother, for then, you know, I could make you take me out to see you shoot bears and things, without caring if I bored you or not. Dare (wildly and recklessly): "Oh, Miss Hel«i, if I were only a brothawl I mean if I loved you more than a brothaw! I don't mean than my own brothaw, ye know. I mean any Thi Necklace of Pandura. jt brothaw. I mean more than any brothawl Here I upset a chair with a crash. I tall ^H?« ^Ll'^'^1'""'* ^^*^«^0 : "Who is that SSk^flow^rfl?- u"" ^^^^ there ?-see-with the Fi?.^ :i F'i^ °" «!?«»~what lovely taste 1 o„i^' *^u*i^'il*' ^ scabbed the fan and things ' and rushed off to meet Mrs. McKetchar. wS I saw approachmg, and escaping from her as ST-fLP°' '•^^'"'"iileJ vviti; tl.^ othS guests But It began to dawn on me that. like moK: fessed woman haters, Tom was as w« in^he han^ of a clever ^irl. and that, if thbgs went obH^7fnl-. ^u-''''*'^^'^^^"'^^ Certainly be obliged to disown him. Two days after this our expedition started for Mu.skoka.^The part^'con \fr InH M ' ^S'S?"^ h°^*^^«' their L^^Jack Mr and Mrs Ferdinand Naylor, a younff mar- ried pair, "who both were young, and on^e Tthe iSd"*Th^';{:f"^'" ^° ,^«°t« Byron. sU«v hT,ll A ^hen there was Mrs. McKetchar fheV husband was absent, absorbed in public affair! i.e. borrowing money, and beguiling his cin stituents with imaginary visionVof fovemment favors and benefits to be obtained ff^thTm bv '^rTi:!!tyf.r^' ''' "^^-' ^- S-hrTght hJ^lf' f^A^^ "^^ '■^^"y ^^"^ ^on i, his sound eye. S? went to my heart ' ' ' "By Joyel old i; - ; ,„. i^,„ rasping my unresponsive haral vV. r , . ., . gg^jlJ^f "For getting t!u. Macl- > • ' I r<^1S[ i^J, you're easily pleast :." *^ * He glowered at me a i,>. nent. "I'd take a miHion black eyes -fifty nniiion black eyes-to *^"0?V,7«S/? T'.^r^^y^' ^' "Claimed. Oh I understand, old boy I" said I, seeing it sSbrilh7'''r.;?J""!i T^Hl^-ng^^dtoMiss A!fi^^ L I'^^^y. ^°^^ Congratulate you!" And we shook hands again wamily Ya-as myboy. How clevah you are to iruess It so quicldy I And d' you know, your venffim remawk showed great penetration. That black eye" (he surveyed it in the looking glass wi?h deep and appreciative interest) "wasfso to so^lc the lucky stah of my life." '**^' »« ^ speak, Helen told me," he continued with a .slio-l,*. frown, "that she had nevah dreamS of mi'^J^ anyone as a lovah ; but that my reckless heroism completely conquered her heart. Made her f^ tMM NicKLAci or PAMmnu. 41 ux cawse l didn t think it necessary to teU her ^' ^Ti "^H* «»'y *»««« thri feet dee^' and lookh«ah,oldnuml Keep dark about tiS j^~i mean— don t volunUak anything about tr^ w« oven ''^'*^' ^'''' ^ "^ ^''^ **""^»« . S^rv'i''" ^^^^^ afterwards, for It turned out L«! L^^^ mamage. Mrs. Tom Dare, be- sides bemg pretty, was clever; so she aUiwed her husband all the shooting he could ^ss7wy H^r:/**"? ^^ * ^"^ ^**> to do with the un- llfe fJS" 1 ""^^'^'n^, ^'"C'ty of their nuptial hfc Foolish women often interfere with a hu^- l«nds favorite pursuit, just because it is his favorite pursuit. Qever women never do. 1 have saicf Mrs. Dare was clever, but I never knew how ckver she was till she vouchsafed mc a glance into the depths of her intellect, neariy mTwYtSlw^e'!'' ""^ "''•^ "^"^^^' -^^^^^^ "Do you remember, Mr. Rainald," she said as we were sitting in her cosy drawbg roo^^^e before the day I got engaged to Tom that the wa er was only three feet deep anywherein the t^'^^J^ll^- ^ Y^ ^^ ^"^^^°- ^h^nSd to days.) ^"^ °^ ^^""^ P^"^^^"* Muskoka "Of course I do," I said, "and I've often won- dered why you asked me." "Well, you see, Mr. Rainald," replied Mrs. 4S The Necklace of Pandura. Dare, looking at me over her fan in a peculiarly arch and roguish way. "You see, I'd got to like Tom very much, and I knew he liked me, too; but he was so stupid and slow — ^and we hadn't long to stay— and you two were going off on that horrid shooting trip next morning— when you told me that. So I thought a little shock, you know, might wake Tom up. Bring him to the pomt, as it were. Dear old Tom's as blind as a bat, and I knew he wouldn't see the rapids till It was all up, or rather down with us, you know. So I risked it !" Here her infant began howling up stairs, and she rushed off, leaving me thinking very deeply. The Necklace of Pandura. 4Z EVERY YEAR. (A Tale of Northern Quebec It was in this way that my friend, Donald Mcintosh, a Scotch barrister, whom I had long kno\yn and valued for his clear intellect and sterlmg qualities, came to relate the stranee tale I now set down on paper. I must say here that the very practical nature tn\n e'^*''-"«a^ °"'-*° P"«h ahead W„i i ^ ."^^^ ^"y "&h* *t a"- Finally he blurted out, 'to move further from here ' fhJji^l^f']'^ F^ ^* ^'^ motives, try all I could, IJ~/ ^ i^*' ""J^^'' '*'"°"8: pressure, he mut- tered something about the place where we were l^m mo/m/ ,.... 'evil'-'uncanny/ I tried hard to get something more out of him, for I knew rJL^rl n/T'!i!''°"'^'°*.*^^ simple-minded voy- tSZu ^orthem Quebec were at times. But 'niS^'^'^^'' r^ frightened, he refused to be tS?lif *° ^! *^^"'^ °^ ^'^ ^^^. and at last turned sullen and went and shut himself up in n^ f£"'' ^' 'i^^ ^'*"^"y ^^^'^^ to look abroad ?n lit ^Til7^'■u ^'^ ^^'^- ^^ ^^ '•o"ed himself m his blankets, he said something that sounded ?the S^R^'-^^^i ^^ something more bad Ihe dirk r *^" '^°°*'"^ ^ '*P»^ ^" "I saw that the man was really frijrhtened ducff^F^'^^^'- ^° ' ^e^^^^« "^"^ unusifalTon .r?Vi ^''^"^°'' ^^' ^tl' » l>'-ave and a civil and clever gu.de. So I let him alone, lit mv wa^ViW T°" •' 'r" *° ^ "^^^ ^^ the moo^ was rising leaving him to sleep if he could. snarklW ^rT ^'^'^Kout over the beautiful sparklmg stream and the vast barren wilderness of rocks and forest beyond for some ten o™fif! rL'",Z?rV''l"K*^![" ^.^^ ^ '^'Sht crackling L^ c^ ^™^\l>y tl^e river, and a rolling of loo^e stones, and there stepped out into the little The Necklace of Pandura. SI elevated open space where I stood — a man. The moonlight was clear in the little open space, and as he came close to me I could see him dis- tinctly. He was a French 'habitant,' evidently a resident of the district, dressed in homespun clothes, and he moved steadily on, as one who knew his way, and had an object in his journey. "You know the backwoods saying, 'Every man is a friend in the woods,' so I stepped forward to greet him, and then I saw his face ! It was not a bad face — rather an intellectual one for a man of his class — ^but there was a look on it that would have made you pick it out at once from a crowd of a thousand others. There was a look of dread, but above all, a look of expectation of some horror to come upon it; with a sort of set determination about it, too, which I know affected me with a strange feeling that was very like fear, and yet had pity for the man in it, too. "I felt a similar mixture of repugnance and pity once for a murderer whom I saw brought out to be hanged whose nerve had failed him and who saw before him a horror he had no strength to endure. "I shook off the feeling with some self-con- tempt, and spoke to the man. " 'Bon soir, mon ami. You travel late. I'm camped close to here. You'd better turn in with us till morning. This is a poor country for night walking.' He started slightly. "'Bon soir m' sieu,' he replied in a strange, strained voice, like one suppressing some strong emotion. 'Non m'sieu, I cannot wait. I cannot Stop. Not an hour, not an instant! I am ex- 1 S« The Necklace of Panduia. look ^fo- .-r J "SL'V ?» ^^ """w y« me shrink frin toaMLTm^''''' **»« "»* Witt hto-, mJSn.Slen"^"' """ ""^"S found Francois awaL L!5 ?"'^°'"°««- I see me, I'^Safed'^/^^d^lS^^'^g^-' *° sprang uistanUy to liis feet clateSiH: „ ^™'«».'» his strong ajritetion 'Ah M„ • ^ K """ ■" literally sta,S,S whh'frirtf?'/ ■" "^^^ puce. EcoSL^^^S:„r&^"S'4',S The Necklace or Pandoka. 53 lag his voice and looking all about him as one who feared invisible listeners. 'Pierre La Rose is a murderer I Worse I Le Bon Dieu has per- mitted that at this time of the year — the time of his cripie — he shall be under the power of the evil soul of his victim or of some bad spirit. He is drawn to meet him, he says, at the spot where he slew. Let us go, monsieur, a I'instant, lest we meet La Rose again— and that other!' " 'Come, man,' I said, seeing the habitant was getting frantic with terror, 'this will never do. Murderer or not, the man is crazy, and ought to be coaxed, or if necessary, brought back by force to St. R^i. Where is he going? What mur- der did he commit? And when?' " 'He is going, monsieur,' said Francois, more composedly, but shivering and speakmg low, 'to a place not a quarter of a mile from here, up the river. Ah, mon dieu! So close, so close! A wild spot amidst great rocks, where the deed was done. There he meets that evil thing. As for the murder, monsieur, it was thus. If I tell you, will you come away — ^at once?' " 'I'll see,' said I. "'Bieu, monsieur! This night of May, the twelfth, three years ago, this Pierre La Rose and his 'camarade,' Jean Thibeault, were passing that place I spoke of on their way back to St. Remi from a trapping and fishing trip. Pierre was jrentile, gallant, bon garcon then, beloved by all. Jean Thibeault sullen, ill conditioned, a vile tongue about women, enfin — ^a brute. He was a stranger in the district, but already had an evil name. There was bad blood, too, between the 54 Thb Necklace of Panduia. niwon account of Josephine Dupont, to whom Pierre was affianced; and whom Jean was pui^ suing to win away from him— as Pierre knew— mdeed, Jean made no secret of it. .^IZ!""-!^*^'^^^™*' ^ ^« was— was hand- !SS^*"r..*^"''^T'^y ^^*** *^»ngs to a silly girl when he liked. It seems they had quarrelled on the way about her. Enfin, monsieur, they were passing that place. Pierre slipped off a high S ;,1Xi V°^f ^''' ^% Ix^tweeS knee and ankfe S^3 c °J^*",'- r°, ^** '" ^'•ont. Jean tamed, saw his plight, laughed and passed on. As he went, he looked round and said, 'Lie there, maladroit, till you are found. I go to com- xort Josephme. wli ^^%^* "^^ '" '*™*s*' <"• meant only a brutal jest, I know not, but Pierre's French blood was m flames. his face, shot below the shoulder blade. A party coming up the river some days after, found hTZ^ A^u'^l-^'^"'' recovered Ms mind, he confessed aU this to Pere La Loude, ou^ pnest, a good man and a wise— and when his punishment came upon him, others knew.' u^^ ' !^^l "" *^^ "^'"^ °^ Heaven,' said I, my legal instincts getting the better of me. 'wasn't Hnn'^fv t''?!'^'^*,?J"«*'^e ^or the murder? I don t think It could be made out anything more than manslaughter. I'd swear that few juries would convict him of murder, though therirno ^^^^Z^:,^^ ^-^ -^ '^ -a- The Necklace of Panduka. 55 « fi^lV"".!?^ ***?r i?"**" followed him the next I *? *?.* *^^ *^**' *n<* <=«»« back again in such deadly terror that they went awi? from their native district to the settlements. They would only say that Pierre talked with the lort soul of Jean Thibeault of impious and awful things. So It IS ever, monsieur 1 When Pierre wanders back from these meetings, he is mad— !?%iT*ni"'*. "^",and cries to God for mer- cy, tiU he faUs mto a long swoon, out of which he comes sane, but more broken, nearer his grave than before. Voik tout I And now, momieur partonsf For the love of God, let us iol' 1 i?l°"?'' ^f:*np«»' ««i I. for I l»d got my pluck back agam by now; 'the poor fellow's a monomaniac, that's all, and should be brought bade at once, before exposure kills him, as it Ilfjr"*L°' ^'' ^^ ^'" ^"« *° do it- Allons, mon gar^on, du courage 1 You're a brave fellow enough. Why, I've seen you face tne Charge of a bull moose without taking die pipe out of your mouth. Come along I Wa have La Rose in camp here m less than half an hour. ^ iTV r^°* ^?'" i^ ^^ "<»«y in its banks e^rlhin r *° ^^^'"'^ ^* "**** ^' ^."'^^y* *en,' I said, really angry at his super- stition, and coyer your head with your blanket while I go and fetch him.' ^ "The poor feUow still tried to stop me, but I Tn NccKLACi OP Panduba. ff thook him off, and set out for die friaee lie had designated— a little d^turbed in mind, but quite determined, and «< irtt irom fear as you are now. "I SOP- found the place. There was no mis- takins it A desolate, open space, strewn with meat rocks, no growth of tree or bush on it, save here and there a stunted pine tree, showing blade agaiart the night sky. 'One might almost say,' ■ays Victor Hugo, 'that some places are criminal.' This looked like one of them. "Crouched together on a large flat rock in the midst of this space, was the man for whom I sought "He was talking aloud at intervals in a strange, unearthly, high-pitched voice. Every word he said was distinctly audible where I stood ; and his words— and still more — a certain dreadful at- mosphere of horror and despair that seemed to surround him, and to emanate from him, filled me with such a thrill of deadly terror as I have never felt before or since. Raving— screaming cursing— all the extravagances of ordinary de- mentia I had been prepared for, but this man's madness— if madness it was— impressed me as be- mg the strangest and most awful I had ever seen or heard of. He seemed to be carrying on a con- versation or dialogue with some invisible bemg— dreaded, hated, yet withstood and resisted. Often he would say: 'You cannot always have power; God will save me at last!' Then a P*|«e- 'Yes, I will name him!' Another inter- val. Then with quick horror, 'Curse God and be at rest from your torments ? Never 1 Though if SS^ST"'^ ■^f""" «• Tme NicKLACi or Paudctu. Sii^lfE'a^^r? I not deny him/ Then :^:^£;^t *' ^ *' "- - '«' »»l.^.*!!* "l? ""'''I' » '"<•*" overwhelming »«»« of . malignant hostile p„„„ce drawinf n«w and nearer to me. and a .wift intermS w«niing of unmment danger— danger to mvself liir^SraT "' "'* * '°""**' cIesLy.Vnc" e m7J!? •"'!*i**''A^**' *° **«P« *«'«>"' that place ray only mstinct. One glance at my face when snatched our rifles, packs and so forth, rushed down to the nver, and launching our can;)e, were rapid, risked in the night in comparison with what was bchmd us in that accursedSace of fear that we had left. We scraped through som^' how, and reached St Remi liefore mor^ng "As soon as it was practicable, I sought Pire U Loude. and told him all that I had feSi^S :.h3M°"°'^'**'*^ ?" Francois had told me, and added this curious theory of his own: 'With re- gard to this unhappy man, it may be that the good God has permitted an evU spirit to have The Nscklace of PANmnu. 59 power owr him for a time, in order thtt his great sin may be all— or in part — expiated here, and so he be spared much hereafter. " 'You know,' he said, with a slight smite, 'we of the old church believe in purgatory ; that is, in expiation of our sin.>^ after death, followed by ultimate salvation. If hereafter, why not some- times here? All places and times are the same to God.' "More than a year after I received a letter from Pere La Loude, a paragraph from which might interest you. He wrote thus : ' 'Poor Pierre La Rose died some days ago, in consequence of the exhaustion which always fol- lowed his strange yearly visits to the scene of his crime. He died penitent — hopeful — a ul T trust — redeemed. But for all that, till the <]:i ni his death, he had to pass through his awful ordeal-> every year. ■MM ! ^ The Necklace or Pandoia. "SATANISM" AND THE "BLArK" utacc* (LE MESSE NOIR) IN P^S ^ Of late many European and American news- lar fact that there has been a strange rev^l Sf iS'SSris oJ ^l\ '^?'"^?*^^^ ^"^ « ciassw m Pans of "Satanism"— that is. of Satan worship^and.of the "Black Mass" la Mefse Noir), which IS one of the most profane and ter- nble mcKies by which that worship is celebrated hoW^'^ fh^r^^'^'P ^^ always^had a peShar hold on the Latm races, and on the French in Eugene Sue and other writers refer to a re- orlli", J *?"*^ "^°"^*^" during tha°pJriS "L«n^V.3*"'^*r*'""?^x'T ^^'*^h preceded the Coup d ^tat ' of Louis Napoleon. . We have a recrudescence of it now— alwavs in the same wealthy and aristocratic cT^^s?? Midi' 2Sis1SVo"v!!' ^" ^°- "-^- ^~- the • ?il"'^ ^f ?*^' ^<^ '"OS* noted exponent of it ri^%^r'' ^'^"' ^« * "^an of po^r (he wi ' lord of three manors), birth, and iS^ H^ was proved to have sacrificed hun^ed^oi chJl 2«° to ^"^" during his awful <^?eer The sac! nfice of a young chUd to "Satanas Rex Infeme" TsB Necklace of Pamdura. 6i WIS the principal and most horrible feature of •*Le Misse Noir." The modem Parisian exponents of this pe- culiar sort of cult for the twentieth century, it is said, sacrificed to him either a lamb (emblem of our Savior) or a dove (emblem of the Holy Spirit^. Probably the sacrifice of a human be- injg^ might prove inconvenient nowadays, and lead eventually to awkward inquiries, even in liberal and enlightened Paris. The reader will remember the terrible expose (or partial expose) during tlie tiuie of Louis the Fourteenth of France, of these practices, when the Marquise de Brinvilliers was burned at the stake at La Grive for poisoning and sorcery ; and when her accomplice, the protessional sorceress, Doisoner, and priestess of Satan — ^Voisin — or La Voisin — shared the same fate. The latter awful woman before her execution boasted that she had celebrated the "Black Mass," with the assistant of a "Celebrant" (who had to be an ordained priest) hundreds of times for the most aristocratic men and women (most- ly women) in Paris; besides poisoning and dis- tributing poisons wholesale for years. Many of her revelations were hushed up, as they impli- cated persons of the very highest rank. The records of her trial and execution (no romancer's invention, but taken from the authen- tic court records of the period) show this woman La Voisin to have been a monster of wickedness, cunning, and diabolical courage. "She was in- deed," says a chronicler of the period, "one of 6a Thb '£cklace of Panduka. those inspired and strengthened by her lord and master, Satan." Whether she believed in her infernal creed and calline is uncertain— it is certain that her dupes and clients did. She defied, and was unconquered by the subtilest tortures. What confessions she made were made by her own free will— and awful con- fessions they were! They implicated so many of rank, position, and power (the Princesse de G)nd6, wife of a prince of the royal blood, and Athenais, Comptesse de Montespan, Mistress of the King, and mother of his son, the Due de Maine), that the evidence thus elicited by the "Chambre Ardente" was quietly hushed up, as I have said. A slight description of this dreadful woman, and of her end (Uken from authentic records of the period), might be interesting to the reader. She was a tall woman, very stout, "rousse" (red haired), of great physical strength, and of a powerful but repulsive expression of counte- nance. Nothing daunted her. Her wicked cour- age was almost sublime. She confessed nothing except from bravado after sentence, while La Marquise de Brinvilliers, who shared her fate, confessed all at the mere threat of torture. Between the intervals of the "Examinations" (the mild term applied then to racking and the water torture), she abandoned herself with her guards to the vilest orgies and debaucheries. There is no doubt that this licence was allowed to prisoners under sentence in those days if they ? ! The Necklace of Panduka. 63 had money, and this fact throws a curious light on the times. Once after having undergone the "water tor- ture," and having drop by drop absort^sd six quarts of water, she vowed she would drink tiuii: night six bottles of wine, and did so. Even at the last dreadful scene, her diabolical spirit never failed her. She cursed the officiating priests, and chanted in savage derision an ob- scene and blasphemous parody on the prayers for her soul. When chained to the stake, with the fire blaz- ing round her, she swore repeatedly and furi- ously, and five different times threw off the straw and faggots enveloping her. At the same time, and in the same way, died La Marquise de Brinvilliers and several priests, "Celebrants" of "Le Messe Noir." This dread- ful example, however, did not stop poisoning and Satan worships in Paris. During the Regency of Philippe D'Orleans, while Louis the Fifteentfi, grandson of Louis the Fourteenth, was a minor, a lady of high position and a favorite of the Regents, was proved to have had a "Black Mass" celebrated for her, paying for the same to a certain "sorceress," Marie La- tour, or Lafour, two thousand louis (rather less than ten thousand dollars). The woman Latour poisoned herself on hearing she had been de- nounced. The executioner of Paris was likewise impli- cated in this singular affair, which was also "hushed up" when it threatened revelations damaging to the very highest circles. 64 The Necklace of Pandura. unZ^l 'i* executioner should have been mixed up with the celebration of a "Black Mass" for a t^^rSf ^'^^/*^' will appear when we examine S^re Sety "*''^°°«> «^ ^« demoniacal rite It may now be interesting to the reader to fcnow exactly wAfl* the ritual of this Infernal Mass was and what the "Postulant" (the per- son for whom the Mass was said, and who lf»d some speaal, urgent, overwhelming wish, which caused hmi or her to run such risks in this world and m the next) had to do, and what was the na- ture of the prayers he or she offered up. Also what were the duties cf the priestly "Celebrant" I cannot do better-if I wish shortly and satis- factorUy to gratify this natural wish— than to Fhi''"R^rrM^""»*^l-^?"*' *"*^^"*^^ details of the Black Mass" which— according to her own confession— La Voisin procured to be celebrated for Madame de Montespan (nee De Tonnay- Charente), Mistress of King Louis the Four- teenth La Voisin-as I have said beforel Sm'!!? *^m ?H*^?^ celebrated hundreds of these Messes Noirs" for the aristocracy, male and female— mostly female. ^P'^u^t occasion of the particular "Black Mass." of which I speak, ma spacious vaulted room, hung with black, perfumed with incense, and lit with candles exactly as if for an ordinary c. '- bration of the Mass (with the ghastly exception that the candles were made of the fat of a human being— of an executed person— 'un uendu"^ stood a large black altar. ^ ''' On it was a mattress, and on the mattress lay The Necklace op Panduila. 6S prone the perfectly -nude form of a beautiful woman. This was "The Postulant"— "the living altar" — as she was called in the jargon of ^is satanic sect, for whom the Mass v/as said. When we note the peculiar and horrible composition of the candles which lit up this profane rite, we can guess how an executioner came to be mixed up with one or more of these affairs. On the nude woman's face was a black velvet mask. In front of her who thus formed the "living altar," stood the "Celebrant," on one side the ^Sorcer- ess," who now comes forward and places over her body at the waist an embroidered pall. On this is placed a gold crucifix reversed, and a gold chalice, containing the pre-sanctified Host, horri- bly and profanely desecrated, in a manner which it is needless to describe here. The "Celebrant," who, as I have said before, was always an ordained priest, was dressed in the usual robes worn by a vicar when celebrating a true Mass, save that over them he wore a chausuble of bright ydlow, embroidered with cones of the fir tree — the tree of Satan. And now in the dark recesses of the chapel, illuminated by the light of the carpse-candles, the deep note of a gong is heard, struck by invisible hands, and the priest says - "Kyrie elitson! "Satanas elieson ! "Kyrie elieson !" The gong is struck a seccxid time, aad Ae "Celebrant" recites the following invoeatiooal prayer to Satan, to which, as wdl as t» ^ V^' 66 The Nbcklac* of Pandura. ers that follow, I have ventured to supply Am English translation. "Gloria tibi SatanasI Gloria in excelsis, ct benedictio, et honor, et potestas, in caecula caecu- lorum! Landamus te! Benedicamus te! Ador- amus te! Glorificamus te! Agimus tibi gratiae propter magnam gloriam tuam! Domine Deus! Kex Infeme! Deus omnipotens! Respice suppli- cationem nostrum !" "Glory to the Satan! Glory and blessing, and honor, and power in the highest for ever and ever ! We praise thee ! We bless thee ! We adore thee! We glorify thee ! We thank thee because of thy great glory! Lord God! King of Hell! God omnipresent ! Receive our supplication !" The gong is struck a third time ; the Sorceress holds up a living child drugged to insensibility and naked, and the "Celebrant" proceeds: "Te igitur, Qementissime Domine, supplices roga- mus ac petimus, uti accepta habeas et benedicas hac dona, hac munera, hac sacrificea illibata quae tibi offerimus !" "Accept, most gracious Lord, accept, I conjure thee, the sacrifice of this child I now offer, in re- turn for the grace I am about to ask !" The gong is struck for the last time. The child is brought, and held over the "living altar"— its throat is cut, and the blood is received into the chalice. The "Celebrant" raises the cup aloft, repeating in horrible travesty of the Sacrament, "Hie est enim calix sanguinis mei!" (This is the cup of my blood.) Then, "Oramus." (Let us pray.) At this the "Postulant" must reply, "I pray!" The Necklace of Pandura. »7 And the "Celebrant" proceeds: "Satan, Lord of Life and Death ! Prince of the Air I Acceptor of blood ! Hear the prayer of this thy servant ! (Here follows the full name of the 'Pmtulant,' and the particular wish or petition, to obtain which this terrible and blasphemous Mass was said.) In the case of Madame de Montespan the petition was that the King would loathe all other women, and that her son, the Due de Maine, would succeed to the throne. To this prayer the "Postulant" responds "Amen." The "Celebrant" then advancing, draws with the blood of the sac- rifice a pentacle on the breast of the "Posti^ant" The half empty cup is then held over the altar. A paten is brought from a side tabh, liie remain- ing fragments of the Host in it are emptied into the chalice and spat on. Then the cup is emptied over ^ "Postulant," and the candles are blown out Then in the darkness, the Infernal Mass concludes with the usual words, '*Ite — missa est I" Such was the ritual of the "Black Mass," the chief ceremonial of that fantastic satd blasphem- ous Satan worship which was so curiously fre- quent among the Latin races in the Middle Ages — and later Its reported revival among certain of the fash- ionable degenerates of Paris — though, as I have said — without the human sacrifice which formed its chief feature and horror, exhibits a phase of the brilliant but abnormal Gallic intellect simply mcomprehensible to Anglo-Saxons. ■§■■1 Tn Nbcxlacb or PAMDinu. n "EVEN IF I AM DEADI" (A Story.) **1 am sorry to have been so hard— so cruel— as I was then ; hut I should never see you affain —you knew I should not ! Far less meet you. as youwantmeto. You have no right " So spoke I, Jessi> Halstead, a weak, wicked ^,? '^w ***^*'' ^°"™** Holmes, one who shwild not have been my lover, and whose youn£ 7^^ t^' " ^ "*** beginnincr, to my sham* to^e h«n, as we stood toge&r in the post «e of the small country town where we both "^t tWs once, sweet f On my honor, but this once I A few mmutes of Heaven before you send me away to the devil-that isn't much. I have something to say to you— something that must be said, which I can t say now with all these people around us," he said quickly, seemg me wavSr. I mean you no harm. There wiU be no dan- ger. "But there wUl be danger!" I cried. "You can t come to our house. You know what wicked things people are saying. Oh, Conrad, If you really loved me as you say you do. yoii would spare me all this I" ^ / « . you "I must see you once, love I Yorj shan't refuse The NtcxLACB of Pansuka. 69 meT he said. (He well understood the saying, "La femme qui ^ute est perdue." "But it shall be where you please. See, slip out at half past ei|^t to-night It will be dark then. Go up that small street straight from your house which all those great elms shadow. I will be waiting underthe last of them by the park gates. I won^ detain you, but I have something that must be said. Oh, love, come I This once !" "Oh, I ought not I I ought not !" I cried. "You will, my own. He was sure enough now. How can I thank you, Jessie?" For the first time I looked up at him. "Yes," I said, with a sudden reckless access, which many a woman has recalled with bitterness to her dyinqr day, "I will come. This once!" "You will never be sorry, Jess I For Heaven's sake, don't fail me!" "Much Heaven will have to do with it !" I cried in my reckless mood. "Perhaps you'll fail me." "Fail you!" I can hear that passionate voice now. "I would not fail at such a tryst with my Httle queen, even if I were deadt" Then bend- ing his dark, handsome face toward me, he quoted Tennyson's lovely lines : ' "She is coming, my own, my sweet ! Were it ever so airy a tread. My heart would hear her and beat. Had it lain for a century dead. Would start and tremble under her feet And blossom in purple and red I" "Hush! Hush!" I said. "Don't say such I JO The Nbcklaci of PAifDotA. ?*W' ^T^ "•> ^ *^<'' Th«y *« ua- Ittclnr I Oh, Conrad, we are doing wrong I" I care not I" his passionate roice relied "I have your promise, and nothing good or evil will now bar my way, or keep me from my little Jess. I say it agam. I would meet you — call you my own again, even if I were dead !" He had raised his voice, and some of the peo- ple near— for it was a public place where we had met — turned half around. "You must go," I said. "We have talked long enotV"' Those women are lodcing " "Yes—yes, dear. I must go for a whUe. Re- member, to-night, and remember what I have said f ' We parted, and I, wicked girl, had promised to meet hun, and I meant to keep my promite. Now, remember, all that day was passed by fl! i? *Kf**r°* ^Vi"^^' *■***'"» happiness, like the troubled joy of the opium eater. I had no presentiment, no foreboding of the '*'"*ng« and awful experience I was to go through that night— absolutely none. And yet the terror of that one night was to make the rest of my life a scene of penance and prayer, which is unavailing for a moment to re- move the shuddering dread with which I look forward to the coming of my last hour. When I slipped out to meet my lover at the time he told me, I went with a fierce longing to see him m which there was not a trace of rei^it- ance or foreboding, though I knew he would ask me to go away with him— and that I meant to consent Thi Necklace of Panduba. y« I passed up the unfrequented street, under the thick, heavy foliage of the trees, through the daric, still midsummer night, till I saw the electric light shining on the great row of elms by the park gate, where I was to meet him. And now, let me think f When I saw and rec- ognized that tall form waiting by the last of the great elms, I felt nothing but the old thrill of delieht which the sight of no other human being could cause to me. It was not till he turned and came slowly for- ward to meet me — still some paces distant — that without warning — without reason — without con- trol — came creeping over me that strange, resist- less thrill of indefinable horror. Now, mind — I had parted from him a few hours before full of strength and passion and life; and yet before that shape had taken three paces toward me — I knew. It was my Conrad — my tempter — come to meet my wicked self, but not in the flesh, and from any place where good spirits rest in peace, but from some awful home of expiation and de- spair. Beneath the dark shadow of the great trees, where our meeting was to be, my dead lover paused beside me, as I shrunk against the railing with starting eyes, and every limb benumbed with deadly terror. And as he paused the bright electric light s!ione broad and full upon his face — my Con- rad's face! No love now — no passion — no gentle thought for me on that white, drawn, awful face; su- J MKHOCOPy RBOUITION TBT CHAIT (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) l££|2£ tSm ia~ |i£ |3|2 ■ 2.2 U 1b ■■■ u ■ 2.0 I ^ /1PPLIED IN/MGE Inc ^^ 16S3 East Main Slrecl prs RochMter. N«<> York U609 USA ^S (716) +82 - 0300 - Phon. ^3 (716) 2B8- 5989 -Fox 7» The Necklace of Pandura. H preme terror, intense malignity, hopeless, endless despair, were stamped upon it now, for a lost soul m torment looked forth on me from those glaring eyes. Then he bent over me as in the morning— as then he spoke. He said, "I come— even though dead !" My sister was bending over me. "Don't speak, Jess! You have been in a swoon for hours, but are better now. The doc- tor has just left us. Father and the coachman found you insensible at the park gates under the last of those great elms. How lucky they should have driven home that way! They were de tamed in town by the dreadful news about poor Conrad Holmes." *^ "Conrad ! What news ?" "i '^°»7^«"'* »^Xe *°'^ y°" yet— you are too weak. Well, well, it seems Mr. Holmes was gal- loping home from his usual ride about six clock. He was in a great hurry about some- thing. The horse stumbled on the loose stones at his very gate, and rolled right over him. He was killed on the spot! Poor, poor fellow' He was rather wild but so handsome, and so nice. 1 always liked him. Didn't you, Jess ">" In one of the strictest of our Sisterhoods, in penance and m prayer, I await with shudderini? dread the day when I may again be called to meet my lost lover. I The Necklace or Pandura. 73 "NEVER ALONE." (A Story.) Tis long, long ago since the crime was com- mitted. I was no millionaire then, but a poor miner in the Sierras, and he — he was my partner. We had found gold at last in a lonely ravine, enough to make rich men of us in a few weeks, after many a month of weary and dangerous prospecting in that barren, awful land. I can scarcely remember how the quarrel started — about some mere trifle it was at most. A thing we would have laughed over at any other time; but we were crazed with toil, hun- ger, and excitement — and our revolvers were handy. I packed his body on one of our horses to a great torrent that roared through one of the neighboring gulches, which carried it off like a feather. Then slowly and in pain — for I was hurt in the arm by one of his bullets— I collected specimens, put up my claim, and then packing specimens enough on his horse, I mounted my own, and leading the other, picked my way slowly down to the plains, and rode to the near- est town to register my claim, and get some solid men for partners, as I wasn't rich enough to de- velop it alone. 74 The Necklace of Pandura. 11 thaMt^d"e7d^rn wr^^^^ the fancy his say in ev^y" hLTust af i^he^' rne h,,i^g i thought this a^i? as if he was ahve. Hiown be«er sScel ' """^ ^'"^^ *^<^°- I've vislTbut^r/a'tl'n^/- ^^ways with n,e, in- reckless ruffian then and ./fif ^" ''^^ "^""ved. "It was a fair fieht r ? " m' "^^'^ * «« bad. "He drew on me fifsi Fv^-i^.'^^^ *° "^3^self. were known, nothin^couW i h *^' ^''^'^ ^^^"g But the continuS uns" n 5fJ°"" *° '"^ '" awful even then when t P^^^^^n^e was azvful; and bold. In evervthrni T^V^W and string planned-that unseen nr? '^''*"~'" everything I that subtile whS^er "^P^^^^^^^^^ ^"^'^^^ -S- suggesting, commanS and X^ '"' "'8^"^' the mine, h^routt '^^P'^^^'^ts, and developed creased it. I emU^ked'in'' ^''"* ^^^^^^^ ^^ always driven Xav. H. .'^i"^ speculations- viserf ' ^^""^y' ^^""ted by my terrible ad- est'mtrAm'rtt'and^^^^^^^^^^ .?"^ °^ '^^ -h. and with reason ' ^ °^ *^^ '"^st hated- ciee'^tVerrgHn'^^^^^^^^^^ every evil sS s-^Lst4o%i^^^^^^ -^^ ^= doing-not miiTe! P^^"' ^^S^"'' ^^ his The Necklace of Pandura. 75 bJW'LI *'''\'^ *° '"''* ^^- It >vas no use-, and he grew stronger and stron-er as I crew older and weaker. ^ of1.?«''i^-.^'vf^''^"^ ^^^^'^ °^ ^« presence, and the hour when ?'"°'"Pf'"?^' Sre^ nTore awfulas tne hour when I must die and meet him face to face drew nearer and nearer and snriS' %^^ '"?^' "'^ ^'•^^'^ those railways that u??ed r n '■"''liT'' ^'^ ''^'''- It ^«« ^^ was ^u!t d^l?'.;"'^ '''P* '"^ ^''^"^ ^°i"& what woJkrwher/ fif. *^! ^'^^^ '^"^^ '" "ly iron do^vn iS ^ *^ '?'"X'"S^ workmen were shot down like dogs, and their wives and children left^p^nmless to the cold and famine of comSg At last, here in Paris, the last fatal illness fell &r Tl'',?;'^1 ^^T'^^ grew unt ab y der I could hi. ^'f f ^^"^ "P°" ^y «houl- knew thTi. '*' footsteps behind me. It exulTed ^''^ ^^' ^^'"^^^ '" ^t^ g'-^^P. and Then, in despair, I consulted some of th.^ greatest doctors and specialists of twTlreat and wise city I spoke of the horrors thS Sse me 1^ Tn;. Necklace op Pandura. had covered an inch deep with fine sand. They came— four of them. ^ "Tell me," I said t the eldest and greatest among them as he stood at the threshold? "what marks see you m the sand just behind me?" 1 he prmts, ' he said, turning pale, "of two naked human feet I" ^ v ^, ui iwo saidT^""^^ towards them. "What follows me?" "Still," he said, shuddering, "the prints of naked human feet!" ^ aloi^?'"^' ^^" '"^'" ^ '^"^^«^' "shall I ever be And the schoolmen gave a low cry, and fled panic-stricken from my apartments. ♦i,f "T^^~T^^'"^ '' r ^^'P ^o'" '"e ' As I write these lines, I know that I must die in a day or two at furthest-and A^-he is in the room with The Nbcxlacb or Pamdusa. 71 "A MATCH BY MISHAP." ''Matmna said I was not on any account to dance with you more than once, and now you've got yourself down for six. And she wouldn't bring Muriel. She said 'one of us was enough to look after, goodness knows!' I had to fetch a letter from Muriel to Guy Hastings (you know he's the eldest son of our hostess) sixteen pages long, packed up in Dante's Vita Nuova, which she borrowed from him on purpose to send back with a letter in it, for she can't read a line of Italian — neither can he. Muriel said if I didn't she'd insist on coming instead of me, being the eldest, and mamma nearly caught me gfiving it to Guy, first thing." "(Yes, Mr. Brown, I can give you four or six. You'll always find me near mamma.) Now, Algy, remember! Don't come near mc before nineteen or twenty. Mamma will be on the prowl all the time before supper. After that she's quieter, and if she gets to whist or bridge after supper, she's pretty safe. Now, remember I It's for my sake! That old wretch, V-'i. Mc- Fadden, told her we were engaged, so she says she'll tell papa if she sees the least sign of any- thing of the sort this evening. (I haven't a waltz left, Mr. Smithers. So sorry!) So we must look outt" 79 Thf Necklace op Pandura. Thus spokv oroathlessly and emphatically the pretty Miss EUinor Fortescue, aged nineteen, a fair daughter of Toronto, to a handsome young detrmiental called Algernon Southcote, aged twenty-six, a youth of good English family, who. like many others of that ilk, had come to Can- ada to try his luck" and was trying it now at this Toronto ball, given by a Mrs. Hastings, one of those exalted beings whom fashionable papers when in an effervescent mood term "Queens of Society." ^ EUinor and Algernon imagined themselves en- gaged, but as Algernon, though a gentleman, the son of a high dignitary in the church, etc., etc., was the happy recipient of an income of about ?»oo per annum, and as Miss EUinor was the scion of one of the first families in the city, and accustomed to spend a good deal more than that amount on her clothes alone yearly, and meant Dy ner fond but obstinate parents to "marry wealth, their chances for a union seemed "faint and far away." Of course, Algernon said "he would do any- thmg for his Ellinor's sake—anything!" Then observing the vast though aristocratic form of his beloved one's mother advancing upon them with the ponderous dignity of a whole herd of elephante, he "effaced himself," as the French say, and slid dexterously into the windings of the mazy throng which now crowded the ball room. It has been observed by various gifted authors noted as students of human nature, such as bteme, Thackeray and others, that in dissimulat- The Necklace oi ^^andura. 79 in^ mental suffering, especially that peculiarly pauiful kind causeJ by the tender passion, the so-called weaker sex can give many points to the apparently stronger nerved wearer of— mas- culine garments. The saying that "Poverty, real love, and a tight boot are three things which cannot long be con- cealed," only applies to men. A woman wears shoes two sizes too small for her, and positively does not feel it, if only she is certain that her chassure is becoming. She an smile like a whole sky full of seraphs on a man she doesn't care a pin for during a whole evening, and freeze or snub the man she secretly likes for a similar period, or for as much longer as she pleases, or harder still, she can appear to be utterly uncon- scious of the latter's presence, or indeed exist- ence, as long as she pleases. No man living, however experienced a hand, can perform this last feat. The truth of this was exemplified by the very different demeanor of our two lovers during the earlier part of that fateful ball. The lovely Ellinor was to all appearances as calm as a Muskoka lake and evidently, like John Gilpin, "on pleasure bent" from the start. She danced, she flirted, she sought secluded spots with various appreciative partners. She made Tom Trippet, just engaged to her dearest friend, Clara Turner "follow her about," as that indig- nant damsel remarked to him later, "like a little cur dog!" And she made old Jack Prodgers, aged fifty-six, seriously consider how he could manage to induce "that sweet, artless, amiable The Necklace of Panouea. to become Mrs. Jack rirl, Ellinor Fortescue,' Prodgers. She also whiled away a little of her spare time by mdulgmg ma slight flirtation with the youth- ful Alexander Hastings, the youngest son of her hostess, who was consumed with the most hope- less kind of calf-love for herself, and with a cor- respondingly bitter hatred for her Algernon. This youth, who may be briefly described as a baddish sort of cub, endowed with a sort of was to be done, finally departed in anything but an amiable mood, impelled thereto by certain de- cided snubs administered by Ellinor, who saw supper time, and therefore the time for con- versing and dancing with the beloved Algernon drawing nigh, * Thes. snubs were pretty unmistakable ones, for the youth was soii,ewhat obtuse, and as the lady finally remarked to him, "It was no use try- ing to shoot a rhinoceros with snip- shot " On this the youth departed, vowing vengeance on all and sundry. If Ellinor had only refrained from this last lit- tle amusement, events would have been very dif- ferent. But who can rule his fate? ofYif''^ different meanwhile was the demeanor of the lovelorn Algernon. He was in that moc When the soul spurns the noisy reveller. En- tering the ball room, he leaned in a haughty te"' t.?'*""^^ ^^i,"'* ^^^* '" ^« imagination he thought was a piUar, till roused by the voice Of the fair and vivacious Mrs. Alexander Mc- 2)tmger, requesting to be allowed to move. He The Necklace of Panduia. 8i fled aghast, without asking for a dance, whereon the irate fair one took occasion to sweetly re- mark to several of her numerous friends "that she was really angry with Mr. Southcote at first, but when she saw he was so very bad that he actually mistook her for the wall, she had to par- don him! She added that "it was quite too dreadfully awful to see so nice a young fellow in such a state, and so early in the evening, too I" Now, Algernon prided himself, and with rea- son, on being particularly abstemious. Fleeing from the ball room to a smaller apart- ment, sacred to chaperons, cards and scandal, the luckless Algernon first trod on, and then kicked into the grate the favorite pug dog of his hostess, receiving "a good warm bite" from the animal for his pains, and earning the undying hate of the lady of the house. After this episode, and after asking a young lady he knew slightly "who that fat, vulgar woman in the awful crazy quilt gown was?" and hearing from her "that it was her aunt," Algernon passed on to other social successes. He was a pretty fair dancer usually, an '. when he gave his mind to it, but when the soul is filled with the idea of one loved object, a man is very much out of place in a crowded ball om. This Algernon proved indisputably. He tore skirts, he trod crushingly on tiny toes, and finally had "quite the fall of the evening" near the ball room door, butting, in his agonized attempts to save himself and partner, a stout and stately dowager, clean out of the room. When he rose and saw that the lady to whom he had given this 8a The Necklace of Panduia. httie surprise was the mother of his intended, he leit that his cup was about overwhelmingly full. bo he sought a secluded recess, and remained ?*" >n a crushed condition for over half an hour, oblivious of engagements, or of anything else in the wide, wide world. From this somewhat unpleasant frame of mind he was roused by the light top of a fan on his shoulder, and lifting his drooping head, saw be- fore him Miss Ellinor Fortescue, looking dis- tract. „'ly pretty, and as sweet and calm as a May mcrnmg. At this longed-for rpectocle, "A light on Algys visage spread, and fired his glaz- "Mamma has gone to supper now, and it is safe for three dances at least," said the young lady calmly. "You were a very good boy never to come near me. But. oh, Algy I you nied not jave made yourself so very conspicuous! Mamma said she thought the house had fallen on ur, "** ^^ ^^^ matter with you?" I m aware I was very awkward," said South- cote, somewhat sullenly. "How could I think of what I was doing while I could see you flirt- mg and going on as you were, and with such a lot of cads, tool" he added viciously. There now! When I took particular pains to dance only with the ugliest and stupidest men iif °"i ?.» °"i— to have you misunderstand me like that! said the adroit maiden. "I thoueht surely even yoM couldn't be jealous of that lot! If you only knew what I underwent all the time 1 And now, when I thought I was going to have some pleasure at last, you speak so unkindly to The Necklace of Panouka. 83 niel" And her voice trembled, either with lauehter or tears. VVhereupon, of course, Aigernon at once caved in, acknowledfi^ed his transgressions, and "his un- worthiness to be even noticed by such a peerless girl as his faithful darling Nellie, etc., etc. I" Then the reunited pair sought the ball room. They had three waltzes straight en end, and a lovely time generally, when the influx of people from the supper room and the appearance of sundry flushed and talkative dowagers ind chaperons gave warning to fly to safer scenes. Adroitly eluding Mrs. Fortescue, who was lean- ing on the arm of the Honorable Hugh Howler — the last "nd latest of a noble line" in the old country, wIvj had come out to Canada to "learn fawming" — but who so far had not got beyond the delight and surprise occasioned by his first contact with Canadian whiskey, Ellinor and Al- gernon rushed oflf to the supper room. They were both too far gone by this time to indulge in such a coarse earthly thing as supper. The lady took an ice and three-quarters of a glass of champagne; the gentleman, half a macaroon and three glasses of the same lieverage. A small glass door on one side cf the suppe -orm led to a tiny conservatory, where some c he more valuable plants, which wanted more ^are than those in the great conserva'.ories, were kept. A walk led down to a sequestered nook at the end, completely screened -y foliage ina flowers from any one till he got wlvi.ii three paces of it; while those occupying it had the advantage of being able to see the intruder all the way down the 8* The Necklace of Pandura. straight walk. On the other side of this nook was a strong door, leading to the furnace room of the conservatory. To this secluded spot, iilhnor, who knew the house as well as her own led Algernon, for they both perceived that the ball room was safe no longer. Though there was a fine after supper glow on the massive countenance of Mrs. Fortescue when they passed her, bom of "champagne and chat," still there was an ommous restiveness in the way she glanced around her, evidently in search of her daughter—whose little ways she well knew— that foreboded trouble. "Mamma's quite capable of bolting out of the whist room and catching us at any moment, if we tiy aiiy more dances," remarked the intelligent Ellmor, "but it will take her some time to rout us out here." Then ensued ten minutes of ehsium— moments too sacred and too sweet to be described by a light and frivolous pen. r**T"V^^ ^^^^^ was already approaching this little twentieth century Eden. The revengeful cub, Ahck Hastings— the snubbed and jealous one— had (alas!) perceived the lovers pass through the small glass door. Algernon was just requesting to know for the fifteenth time "if his Ellinor would always love him as she did now? and was being reassured on that point, when they were both startled by the sound of voices, and what's more, by the voices of Mrs Fortescue, Mrs. Hastings and the perfidious cub tl'^lT'i^r ^^^ y°"*^ ^^^ "^«l"«d his mother to take Mrs. Fortescue into the small conserva- tory to show her some rare plants, meaning of The Necklace of Panduka. 85 course, that Ellinor and his rival should be caught without chance of escape. As yet, the pair were concealed by the plants from the gaze of the two old ladies, but discov- ery, with very unpleasant consequences, was sim- ply a matter of time. At this moment of almost despair, Algernon's eye fell on the furnace room door, just beside them. Here was a gleam of hope! In another moment he had softly drawn the large outside bolt of the door, and Ellinor and he were inside it, and for the time in safety. They found themselves in a small room witfi three steps on one side of it, leading down to the great furnace door, furnished simply with some gardener's tools, two or three old baskets, and an immense quantity of cobwebs and dust. There was no other exit but the door by which they had entered. It was as dark as pitch and as hot as Tartarus. Not at all the place where even two lovers would enjoy a tete-a-tete. Hardly daring to breathe, they listened to the three intruders, who were now close to the door that concealed them. They heard Mrs. Fortescue say: "Lovely! perfectly lovely!" (alluding to some plant), "but I must find Ellinor. I haven't seen her since before supper. Have you, Mrs. Hastings?" Then the voice of the wily cub, "I saw her dancin' with Mr. Southcote most of sup- per time. Thought I saw 'em come in here just after." Their hearts stood still. That malicious youth evidently knew of their retreat. Would he give them away at once — or what would he do? But S6 The Nf.cklace or Pandura. Mr. Alick Hastings meant a better and deeper vengeance than anything of that sort. They heard Mrs. Fortescue say in a very flur- ried manner, "Dear! dear I I must get back to the ball room and find her at once I" Then with chilling horror, they heard the cub slowly drawl out, "How careless of the gardener to leave that door unfastened! Wait till I bolt it, Mrs. Fortescue, and I'll take you." Then he slowly shoved to the bolt, thoroughly enjoying meanwhile the deep but muffled execra- tions of his rival inside. He then escorted his mother and Mrs. For- tescue back to the ball room with a politeness and urbanity so unusual in him that his mother had an immediate suspicion that he had been up to some mischief or other beyond the common. And so indeed he had ! The situation of the im- pnsoned pair was more than awkward — it was awful! Southcote, whose colkir was rapidly melting, endeavored to console EUinor, whose hair was coming out of curl — and who felt cob- webs all over her. Also to open the door. He failed signally in both tasks. Realizing what an awful scrape they were in, and almost prostrated by the heat, Ellinor's high spirit gave way, and she began to cry. Mad- dened by his adored one's sobs, the hapless Southcote made a furious attack on that obdurate door. In an evil moment he did so! Mrs. Fortescue and Mrs. Hastings meanwhile had been playing the parts of those who sought the unhappy heroine in the ballad of "The Old Oak Chest." The Necklace of Pandura. 87 *'In the highest, the lowest, the loneliest spot, They sought her wildly — but found her not." Neither did they find Mr. Sotithcote. This simultaneous disappearance of both seemed more than ominous to Mrs. Fortescue. She turned wildly to her sympathizing friend. "They've eloped — I know they have!" she cried. "Oh, why did I bring her here? Why did I bring her?" This was overheard, and it flew like wildfire through the "four hundred friends" that Miss Fortescue had eloped with Mr. South- cote and a pleased and expectant crowd rapidly gathered round the two ladies. It was at this crisis that the malignant cub was moved to suggest "That he was sure he had seen them last in the conservatoiy which the two la- dies had just left."' Off rushed — or rather wad- dled — the agonized matrons, followed by a deep- ly interested throng of their nearest and dearest friends, makii ,; friendly comments. They entered the conservatory, just as Mr. Southcote was in the loudest stage of his racket on the furnace room door. Dryly remarking, "That there seemed to be some one in the furnace room tnat wanted to get out," the cub drew the bolt, feeling that he hadn't altogether lived in vain that night. Poor EUinor emerged first — her lovely face flushed and tear-stained, covered with confusion and cobwebs as with a garment, and was at once pounced upon by her incensed mother, who hissed in her ear, "This is most disgraceful conduct, Ellinor!" I 88 The Necklace of Panduxa. I and with difficulty refrained from shaking ber "coram publico." Here followed Algernon Southcote with more cobwebs, who, feeling that the eyes of Europe and America, so to speak, were upon him, thus explained the situation, wearing meanwhile the easy air of i disconcerted pickpocket. "We — that is — ahem ! — Very sorry ! — ^Accident — very tired — ahem I — ^got very warm dancin' — came in here to get cool — door bolted itself — comin' out again in a minute — ahem !" These excellent reasons for being found locked up within five feet of a blazing furnace, were re- ceived by Mrs. Fortescue with what, in a lady of less aristocratic demeanor, would be called a snort, as she marched away, keeping her daugh- ter in close custody. How poor EUinor passed through the throng and got upstairs, she never knew. Her mother, too, remembered the comments — the pleasing and audible comments — of their "dear five hundred friends," such as "If she was my daughter, I'd send her abroad at once." "Locked up with him all the evening I dear — dear!" "What a funny place to hide in!" "Well, if I had to lock a man up to keep him from run- ning away from me, I'd rather not have it found out!" (This last from a vivacious and piratical young widow, Mrs. Fortescue's pet aversion.) Then just as she passed the ball room door, a matron of position and social importance leaned towards her, and said: "I suppose, dear Mrs. Fortescue, the engagement will be announced now?" ht The Necklace of Pandura. 89 This was the last straw. EUinor had a very bad time of it driving home afterwards. Meanwhile Algernon, turning on the cub, and casting aside all conventional scruples, requested him in a hoarse voice *'to come out into tlie shrubbery for five min ues." The cub had no ob- jections — none in the least. So there., on the frozen ground, under a starry sky, and in the midst of a mob of enthusiastic cabmen, the two went at each other like tigers. At the end of about fifteen minutes fortune favored the right- eous cause, and Mr. Alexander Hastings was "knocked out." He looked, as one of the cab- bies remarked at the time, "as if some helephant 'ad been 'avin a game with 'im." Algernon was also somewhat damaged, but feeling somewhat relieved at having paid his enemy out pretty well, sought his solitary rooms with the despairing conviction that Ellinor was lost to him forever. But this was just where he was mistaken. When Mrs. Fortescue grew calm, the matter presented itself to her husband and herself as one that couldn't be settled by packing Ellinor ofT on a long penetential visit to some spinster aunt or on that trip to Europe which seems to be the usual recipe for causing trans-Atlantic maidens to forget impecunious lovers. Ellinor, who was a high-spirited girl (and be- tween ourselves worth three of Algernon, though he was a good fellow enough, as men go) stuck to her colors. She declared that "Never! no never — ^under any circumstances whatever — ^ The Necklac£ of Pandusa. I I* P would she wed another," and looked as if she meant it. Last and most decisive, that remark made by that matron of position as they left the ball, viz. : "That she supposed the engagement would be announced nowT had sank deeply into Mrs. Fortescue's aristocratic soul. After all, South- cote was a gentleman, and liad neither pedlar or washerwoman amouj, at any rate, his recent ancestors. Also, he had no bad habits, and though his present income was small, would be sure to "get on." Besides, they always meant to «ve EUinor plenty. So just six months after that eventful ball. Miss EUinor Fortescue, exquisitely attired in bridal array, with sweet and calm composure in every movement, marched, leaning on her fath- er's arm, down the aisle towards the expectant and frightfully nervous Algernon and his best man, while the choir sang "The voice that breathed o'er Eden." The discomfited cub was among the spectators and didn't think himself quite so clever as he did one night six months before. How Mr. and Mrs. Southcote got on after- wards, I really don't know. H Tbe Necklace of Pandura. 91 "RURAL CULl URE." (A Comedietta.) An "Advisory Committee" at work choosing books for the Public Library of a small Country Town. DRAMATIS PERSONAE. Mrs. Dasher Swift — Third rate fashionable. Sham culturisl. Much admired leader of "Our Set" in the village. Prefers on all occasions fiction to fact. Mrs. Porker Swipes — Also fashionable and fab- ricative. Has great literary reputation on the ground of having once badgered the editor of a fifth-rate magazine into accepting an outrage on English grammar perpetrated by her. Is about sixty, and very kittenish and juvenile. Looney Lulu — Local poetess. Contributes weird wanderings to the corners of country news- papers. Mrs. Barker Snarl — Old married lady. Brusque, unkempt, and distinctly "cracked." Op- poses everything and everybody on princi- ple. Mrs. Jerry McCheek — ^Young married lady. Bumptious, and superlatively ignorant. H I ft; If 90 The Necklace of Panduea. Great follower and admiref of Mrs. Dasher Swift. Mrs. Githar Strate— Well-to-do fanner's wife. Honestly and frankly ignorant on all liter- ary matters, but nevertheless knowing quite as much about them as any of the rest. Put on the Advisory Committee to conciliate the farming interest. Cynthia Orelia — Daughter of the above. The Old Librarian. Scene— The Town Public Library. The ladies seated with piles of volumes of all sorts on the tables before and around them. Mrs. Dasher Smft—"Noyf, ladies, we'll get through with the Heavy Prigade first. The books on Theology, Scienc, , "•olitics. Religion- all those slow sort of subjects — serious subjects, I mean, Mrs. Snarl, so you needn't object. We can run them through to-night. In fact, if we rushed things, we might get through Biography, Travels, and Poetry besides. Then we can put off the Novels — Fiction, you know — till next meeting. They'll take a long time. Require real serious consideration, you know. Besides, we want to read all the up-to-date books before we let those sewing girls and common people put their paws on 'em. Mrs. Jerry McCheek— "That's the only good of being on an Advisory Committee. I never read any but the new books, because one has to just read them — or look through them anyway. Just to be able to say one has read 'em. But to The Necklace of Pamdusa. 93 read a book that's been pawed all over by those common females sends creeps up and down my back. I'm that nervous and refined i" Mrs. Barker Sfwrl — "Are ye indeed? But you're right about the new books. Besides, ii there's any of them that's a little — ^well queer or risky like — we can read 'em ourselves, and then say they ain't fit for the rest to read." Mrs. Githar Strate—"T\aX's sol" Looney Lulu — "And some of the most en- thralling — the most subtly and sensuously en- trancing of poesy is by no means suited for the coarse criticisms of the vulgar herd." Mrs. Jerry McCheek — "I just adore the more subtle sorts of poetry! McPercy Snapper, who's spending his vacation here, is what he calls in- doctrinatin' me in the higher kinds of emotions. He's puffeckly splendid, and too cute to live. Why he's been rusticated from his University 1 Told me so himself. That's what a man's col- lege does with him when he's too smart for any- thing." Mrs. Githar Strate (loudly) — ^"Mr. Snapper's quite tuk up with our Cynthinany Orelia. Comes to our house three times a week, an' stops till all hours." Mrs. Jerry McCheek (proceeding scornfully) — ^"We were out for a paddle — canoe paddle, I rncan — only last evenin', and reallv it was so im- provin' you can't tell! He quoted especial from Shelley, Browning, and Swinburne. I remem- ber one sweet piece from Swinburne he recited, 'cause he said the description was so like me — 94 The Necklace of Panduia. "Soft lids that hide eyes like a jewel. Hard eyes that grow soft for an hour, The heavy white limbs, and the cruel Red mouth like a poisonous flower." *-if fu ^'*''*''' '^"^'•'-"Well, he had a nerve to talk that way to a young married lady !" ,uJ'' {T^, McCheek-"V^hy, Mrs. Snarl, thats culcherf Thus do refined and congenial souls commune together, Mr. Snapper says Vul- gar mmds can never know such refining inter- courses. Mr. Snapper told me he needs the sup- port of a congenial bein' like me. He says L nnds me so sustainin' I" Mrs. Barker 5"noW— "Humph I" Mrs. Githar Sirate (not to be suppressed)— n„/r M' ^^^'^' ^'■- Snapper's so tuk up with our Cynthiana Orelia, an' last week he atted her to study Brownin'. Sed she jest hed to, if she wanted to acquire culcher. So Cynthiana she tuk a holt on Brownin', an' the effects on that pore child was jest turr'ble. Fer more'n a week she kept gom round in a blind sort of way. She'd walk over the chum, an' into the barb wire fen- cin There was times when I trembled fer her mtellecs. I did so !" Mrs. Dasher Swift-''Is your daughter deli- cate, ma am ? ^^he don't look it" Mrs. Githar Strate— "Oh, no! Most mdelicate. ma am, I assure you! She looks sorter blind and set down now, 'cause she's in company, but when she s with her playmate, you can hear her acrost a hundred acre lot." The Nbck .ace ov Pandusa. 95 Mrs. Dasher Swift~-"She's quite a fille dc Joie in fact, Mrs. Strate." Mrs. Githar Strats (puziled, but flattered)— "Yes, indeed, she is, Mrs. Swift, an' all the neighbors says so, too ! An' I know how to sym- perthise with her about Brownin', for Mr. Snap- per he atted me to read Herb. Spencer's— the great philosopher and scienter's— 'Soshul Statics,' an' before I'd worried through half a paffe I felt like a lost dog!" Mrs. Porker Szvipes (bursting out into a flood of erudition; — Crowning's a great poet! The Greek note is not so perdominant in his work as in Mathew Arnold's — but he's fine! D'you know, he'd a wife who wrote poetry, too. Mrs. Flamcult lectured us about her in Boston. She wrote Casa Guidi Windows, and other poems. They're fine, but not so good as her husband's, of course." Looney Lulu (interrupting) — "All mod m poesy seems to me to lack depth. That sound- ing of the sad minor cliord of life's sweet song that wails uninterruptedly throughout our ex- istences. (Murmurs abstractedly.) "Ah, me 1 Ah, me ! Ah woe is me ! I moan like the drone of a bumble bee !** Mrs. Barker Snarl (in a loud whisper) — "She's composin' a pome about that ham and pork man that went round with her all summer, an' cleared out without proposin' !" Mrs. Dasher Sun ft (impatiently) — "Come, la- dies, let's get on! We've got theology and . The Nbcklacb or Pandusa. phflosophy before us yet Let's take aQ those t>oolcs on the table here before us in a heap. (Carried unanimously.) Now, here's all the new books on theolop^r. Gracious, what a heap I" Mrs. Porker Smpes (with a happy inspira- npn)— "Let's leave the choice to the Reverend Hiram Snort. He's the only one that reads 'em." (Proposal agreed to with enthusiasm. Theology kid aside for professional examination.) Mrs. Dasher Swift~-"Stop\ Here's Bunyan't •PUgrim's Progress.' We can pass that anyhow. When I was in Lunnon lawst yeah, the deah old Bishop of Lincoln told me that Bimyan— though unhappily a dissenter— was a 'sine quam on' (I think he said) in every theological library." Mrs. Jerry McCheek— "Who's Bunnions?" Mrs. Barker 5«aW—" 'Pilgrim's Progress!' I ¥aess that ought to go among 'Voyaecs and ravels,' Mrs. Swift'^ Mrs. Dasher Swift— "Oh, no I The Bishop explained to me that it was a great religious alle- gation or allegory— or alligator, perhaps (gig- fles). Now, let's get at science and philosophy, here's twice as much of that as there is of re- ligion." Mrs. Githar Strate f despondently) "Well never git through that pile in a dog's age I" Mrs. Dasher Swift (cheerfully).MDh, I don't know! S'pose we take 'em in lots. Here's all Huxley's works, Tyndall's, Herbert Spencer's Drummonds', Balfour's book (we must have that, because he was the English premier), and lots more. Well, about Huxley?" Mrs. Barker Snarl— "I've beam he's unsettlin' The Necklace of Panduea. 57 and infidellstic. I guess he won't fill the bill for this hberv." Mrs. basher Swift— "Oh, yes, he will, Mrs. Snarl. Dcah Lord Kewin explained all about him and his writings to me in Lunnon lawst yeah. He discovered the molecular vibrations of light. Mrs. Porker Swtpes— "Yes, and the inverte- brate vibrations of sound waves which transposes themselves over the universe." Mrs. Githar Strale (greatly impressed)— "No! Is that so?" Mrs. Dasher i'zti//— "Besides, Lord Rosebcry told me that the King (he was Prince of Wales then) went to his funeral!" (General sensa- tion. Huxley's works admitted "nem con.") „ ^r*- ^'^/'t"" Strate (with fine impartiality)— "T'ain't fair not to give the others a show. Let's take all the other scientists in. (Agreed to. All the scientific writers admitted.) Mrs. Jerry McCheek (looking at her watch)— My! It's near twelve! Weii, I think we done puffeckly splendid !" Mrs. Dasher Swift— "Indttd v/e have ! Well, ladies, we can break up now. We'll have all the next evening for the novels." (They break up, and depart conversi'{,.) The old librarian, as he locks the library door, murmurs softly to himself: "A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, Drink deep, or taste rot of the Pierian spring." , The Necklace of Pandura. m H i i ii "UNKNOWN FORCES." A young literary friend of mine, Ronald Les- lie, once told me a very queer, perhaps I should say almost incredible, story. He was a young man who had gained consid- erable fugitive celebrity as an apt and sometimes brilliant writer in various leading magazines; and would have got more if it had not been for ' the somewhat mystical turn of his mind, which sometimes led him into writing articles on occult and out of the way subjects, such as "Undevel- oped Forces in Nature," "Facts and Frauds of Spiritualism," and topics of a kindred nature. Some of these, the editors of the said leading magazines, while admiring their style and the forcible and intelligible English in which they were written (for this latter quality is, in these days of "Journalese" and ungrammatical femi- nine fluency, becoming quite valuable) were com- pelled to reject, as being "caviare to the multi- tude." They would then beg him to turn his at- tention to "live subjects," such as the biography of some multi-millionaire, whose lambent genius had just inspired him to comer the market in lard, and who still printed his signature in scram- bling capital letters, not having condescended to acnuire the trivial accomplishment of writing current hand. ri The Necklace of Pandura. 99 While smarting under a more than usual -in- flection of excellent advice of this nature, Leslie said to me suddenly as we were sitting in my study one evening (we had been talking about animal magnetism, occult forces, etc.) : "Well, I know — personally kv.ow — of a case, an awful proof of the existence of these 'un- known forces,' which, if I dared publish an ac- count of it, would rather astonish the materialis- tic and superficial inhabitants of this city of New York. It happened in this very city, too, and not three years ago. I've longed to let them have it often I" "Why don't you?" I asked. "Well," he answered reflectively, "there are reasons why it would be imprudent to tel! it all. A very dreadful tragedy it was, and the public would never believe how it happened." "If you tell me, I promise to believe every word," I said somewhat eagerly. "Well, I feel just now as if I must inflict the tale on somebody," replied Leslie, laughing, "so you shall hear it." But not to tell again till I give you leave, for, mind you, it's true— too true!" "I promise," said I. "Go on with your story." "You may have observed," he began, "certain meetings of myself and a few friends three years ago, for the purpose of investigating various occult phenoriena — in which, without actually believing in them — we had taken deep interest, and concerning which I often spoke to you at that time with enthusiasm." "I remember well," I said, "what strange no- . too The Necklace of Pandura. i^ n 'n tions you were getting into your head at that time, and I often wondered why these meetings terminated so suddenly; why Louis Rostoffchin, that singular Russian 'savant' who came irom nowhere in particular, and whom all you 'illumi- nati' swore by, disappeared into the unknown as suddenly as he had appeared. If you remember, I questioned you at the time about some of these things; but you were so strangely gloomy, so self-absorbed— in fact, so changed from your usual self for a time, and moreover so very touchy when I even hinted at the subject, that I had to leave it and you severely alone." "Well, you are going to hear all about it now " replied Leslie, "abr,i;t the Russian Louis RostoflF- chin and his— disappearance,' he went on, turning pale, and shivering as if a cold draught had sud- denly blown upon him. "You remember then," he proceeded, "at this time that we spoke of a certain circle of literary and scientific friends, male and female, who met often at each other's houses, to hold 'seances' (to adopt a name so vul- garized by spiritualistic impostors) for the pur- pose, if possible, of investigating or finding out what we could know here of the other world and its conditions." "We all began in a spirit of curiosity and of virtual skepticism, but before long our moods all changed (it was impossible to help it, considering the strange mysteries that we gained tantalizing glimpses of), and some of us, at any rate, were ready to go to any lengths almost to solve these enigmas. We had begun by the processes usu- ally employed by the spiritualists, but had soon The Necklace of Pandura. lOI got into mysterious regions far beyond the trivial puerile rappings and table turnings of these peo- ple. "Well, we went too far, and the awful catas- trophe which ensued made us all see how dan- gerous was the path we were treading on, and convinced me a«t any rate that it is not the will of the Almighty that we should penetrate the secrets of the world beyond the grave before our time — so terrible are the guards and perils He has placed in the way of any real attempt to mas- ter them. "Our party on that eventful night consisted of, first, our host, Mr. Adams, an immensely wealthy business man, a man moreover of clear brain, and possessed of a great deal of what Huxley aptly terms 'that common ignorance which is called common sense. He was the last man you would suspect of a tendency to mysticism, but there he was among us nevertheless, and a most useful member of our circle he was, representing always the useful re- straining element in it — 'who put down enthusi- asm,' and who insisted on reasonable evidence before considering any theory, however beauti- ful and consoling. "Then there was Doctor Creswell, one of the first men in the city, a great physicia:i ..nd sci- entific discoverer ; a man not holding by the ten- ets of orthodox religion, but one whose mind was clear, and whose life was beautiful. Like many others of his scientific brothers, his best strength and efforts were given to help and benefit other men; and he formed as conspicuous an example iL iv [Ml aoa The Necklace of Pandura. wwSfh^'^^M^TT'^ ^y ^*t Christian creed which he could not altogether accept, as many of the so-called disciples of that creed do of sdfish disregard of its very first principles. 1 hen there was myself, and my youn? wife Clara. You know us both well enough to esMtS any description of us from me ^ ^ •'But you should know that my dear Clara r^e^S ir^'"^*'"^" temperament was in many r?' spects the counterpart of my own, had been trance or mediumistic' facu ty. It is bv this tie'Z' '"^•^^'" .^^""'"^' '^'^ power! that aS !?J- ^"ture discoveries of that dread knowledee wh^ch I shall seek to learn no more, Si % tha't^^'inmi'r"?' *r'' ^"'•^fi^ °"- sittings felt v^hichlfit.'^^'^l^ "■^Pi"S: on sleepiness wftich IS the sure forerunner of the magnetic ^I^uk'k ^?"^ ^^* "i^ht (thank HeavensTher usually m the best conditbn. were a littl*. „« s steTthat \'h'' ^t^,M- AdamT^nd mysdf 1^: ceenLl ! '^\sh°"W take no part in the pro- ceedings except as a spectator. ^ . Another present that night was Robert Hast ^ReZ ""^^'1°.^ *U^"* ^"^ celebrUy, who had travelled much m Europe and the East had mixed m much of the best society in Europe- but who also had been led by his love of occultism Z ol tl'^m'''^^^''' *^"*h'' into TsS ety of some of the cleverest, most daring and most unscrupu ous men in the world-'wolves of mtellect/ flying at the throat of civilizadonl The Necklace of Pandura. 103 Nihilists, Anarchists and, if possible, still more advanced sons of havoc and destruction. It was he who had introduced the ill-fated Russian Rostoffchin to our circle, as 'a man of mighty and comprehensive knowledge in all that was known of occultism — as indeed he was. "Last of our circle — save his sister — and most prominent on that last night, was the Russian savant, Louis Rostoffchin. A great savant he truly was, and a great noble he had been. This much we knew of him for certain. He had lost estates, and well nigh life for the cause of Nihil- ism, and had all the almost maniacal thirst for the destruction of all existing creeds, govern- ments, and civilizations, which — strange phe- nomenon of the age — is so often found in- grained in the very nature of many educated and intellectual Russians. He was tall, dark, very handsome, and had most expressive eyes, which in times of excitement glittered with a strange wild fire. He spoke Jlnglish fluently, and like many educated Russians, six or eight other languages. We found soon that he was far deeper in the secrets of occultism and telepathy than we had yet any hope of penetrating, but we knew not how deep and terrible his knowledge was till that awful night. "His sister. Vera Rostoffchin, a most beautiful and intellectual girl, was also that rarest and most gifted of mortal women — in a century or so — known as ' or 'pythoness,' as the ancien of these peculiarly endowed being bom once Tfect medium,' eks called one Her love men. for her brother was something beautiful. She v',« i "*P«<=* *«<» admire this beautiful and gifted girl, and I was quite ccrtam moreover, that— mistaken or not— she believed every word she said. Besides, since my mamage, I had about made up my mind to aban- don these occult or spiritualistic researches alto- gether. "It was not only that the eflFect on my younr wifes nervous system was bad, and the resultj and messages obtained mostly— as they nearlv always are with triflers and beginneri-trivisd and ridiculous ; but that (especially since the Rus- suui directed our researches,) and we 'progressed' —to use his own term, we sometimes obtained aphorisms of smgular wisdom in certain of the sentences dictated to our medium, coming often m the midst of the most trivial nonsense And «^?«V ' "^^ ^^^- ^^'^^ °'' ^^'^^'^ indications and signs of a most sinister nature. ♦u "T^^y seemed tokens and warnings that amone the inhabitants of the unknown countrTSitf which we were advancing, were some of un- known and great power, and intense malignity S'Ik %^"'"J" :^'^' °"'y ^^'^ •" cl'eck by in- visible bands, which our own ranks might be ie- norantly engaged in loosening. In short, I wm seriously determined that the evil of our exncri- -«"^"'^ Rostoffchin, as I have said, was in hijrh sprits on that fatal night when his' destiny S hun. He said one thing that I shall always re- The Necklacs op Pandusa. 109 member before the seance began, for it showed me that for ends of his own, he dehlwrately courted the dan^rs he called up, and had also some idea of their nature. "'We shall have much 'force' to-night, my friend,' he said abruptly, 'unless I am much at fault. More than I have ever lid, even in St. Petersburgh, even in Paris, with many of the most gifted present. When my sister goes into the trance, I will take control. By some strange happ^ chance, we men are almost all 'en rapport,' that IS, our minds are strongly turned in the same direction — are all 'pulling at one rope.' You comprehend. That will give much force. We shall not have such another chance once in a thousand — in a hundred thousand meetings! I have been reading your minds. I can sometimes, when there is a strong current of thought similar to that in my own mind; and what do I see? Images — positive pictures of primitive violence- force — the eternal forces that have existed in pre- historic and savage times, and which might be called up now — controlled — and used!' '"What for?' asked Hastings. "The Russian laughed fiercely. 'Who knows? Perhaps to help a people. Perhaps to kill a ty- rant!' he added suddenly. Better than the knife or revolver — ^better than dynamite! Safer and more terror striking. Perhaps we can use them to remove mountains, pierce tunnels. Bah! we trifle. Commen<;ons ! Still he paused a moment, seeming to ponder again heavily. 'But there is much force, he resumed, as if speaking to him- self — 'perhaps too much. I can actually see here. . 1; i! iio Thb Nbcxlacb or Pamduba. th««, everywliert'--he pointed to the walh to rif ht and left of him— images of the things you have been thinking of. The half man, half brute fight between two tribes of cave men (Hastings started). The horrible tortures and mutilations of those semi-demons, the North American Red Indians. (I sterted in my turn.) Yes, we shall have much force. Perhaps too much I There mav be danger.' ' 'How danger r I asked. He seemed in a curi- o«« ^nrood, which somehow impressed us all. "'Because thoughts— concentrated thoughts- are facts— the only real facts. Just as each soul IS a concentrated thought of a Higher Power, and therefore can be called from the Abyss— ma- terialized, controlled, used oerhaps— we shall seel As for danger, well, mv friends, you have read m medueval legends of how from time to time sages of the Alchemists or of the still more wis- dom-gifted 'BrotherhiDod of the Rosy Cross,' the predecessors of the Occultists of to-day, were found in their cells torn limb from limb by the fiends they had invoked. These legends were not all lies (few universally believed leger/is of any period are). These wise but rash men iiiere- ly encountered forces— not fiends— which they could not control. Voila tout! I think I know something of the nature of these forces, and that thev can be controlled.' ' 'But if not,' interrupted Dr. Cresswell, speak- mg^ for the first time. " 'If not," answered the Russian, shrugging his shoulders, they may be a little— troublesome I Let us begin.' Tub Nbcxlacb op Pahdoxa. tIE " 'We will have the dark seance/ he continued, as we entered the large room where our experi- ments were usually tried, when we met in Mr. Adam's house. "'We want no child's play to-nig^ht of table rapping and that little rubbish, and we know each other too well to fear in^sition on the part of an^ of us.' " 'Why IS it," said I, as we made our prepara- tions, 'that total darkness is so much more favor- able to the advanced experiments than light? It doesn't look well for their origin,' I added, jok- ing weakly. ' 'Because,' he answered seriously enough, 'as a well-known writer speaking of this very thing has said, 'the force we deal with is a vibration of ether, and so also is light.' We have all the wires to ourselves, so to speak, by being in totol darkness.' "So the sitting began in pitchy darkness in a large room in the left v/'m^ of Mr. Adams' house, where we held our meetmgs usually, as it was more quiet there than in the apartments in the front of the house. We sat around a great table, our hands not touching each other, but resting upon it. At first we could see nothing — scarcely even each other's forms in the darkness, but sat there silent, expectant, waiting for — a sign. "There was 'much power,' as the Russian had said. The first phenomena, like those we had noted in previous meeungs, such as strange ting- lings in all the veins and nerves like those pro- duced by shocks of electricity, bright flashes and gleams of light before the eyes, and above all, a 113 The Necklace of Pandura. 1 singular strained feeling of expectancy — a com- pound of curiosity, and deep-seated fear, of a different kind from ordinary physical fear, were soon apparent ; but in a stronger degree than we had ever before experienced. "Then came stronger indications of 'power'; stronger shocks ran through our limbs ; raps and sharp blows volleyed on the table before us, rapid as the snapping of dry twigs in a fire, and — what we had never seen before — k luminous cloud ap- peared, growing so much brighter that we could faintly distinguish each other's faces and forms. It rolled in folds over the table, gradually seem- ing to condense and draw together, getting brighter as it did so. At the same moment, light regular breathing near me told me that Vera RostoflFchin had already, with surprising sw«' ness, sank into the magnetic sleep. "The light grew — diffused — deepened. Thi was something indescribably baleful and threat- ening about it. "The Russian spoke for the first time. 'It is well,' he said. 'There is indeed much power ! We are very near them to-night!' Yes, you are very near them!' said a deep, calm voice among us. We all started. "'Who was that? Did you speak, Mademoi- selle Rostoffchin?' said Hastings and I together. " It is not her voice !' said my wife tremulous- ly- 'Vera Rostoffchin is safe and happy far away,' came that strange voice again. 'I have taken her place for a purpose.' '" What purpose ?' said the Russian. The Necklace of Pandura. "3 ** To warn you all — ^and you most of all. Go no further!' '"And who are you?' demanded Rostoffchin. " 'It matters nohinfif. I lived as you all live. I died as you a'' will die !' "The Russi n leaned back laughing scornfully. 'The warning again !' he s, id. "But we o.r'^rs cao;erl> continued to ply the 'Presence' (I can call it by no other name) with questions. "The luminous cloud still rolled over the table, and for the first time I experienced, as did the others, a strange vibratory movement of the room, floor, walls and ceiling, like the first para- lyzing tremor of an earthquake ; and these novel vibrations were not confined to inanimate objects, but ran through every nerve and fibre of our own bodies like a series of electric waves. It was stim- ulating to a great extent, but terrifying, too. " 'We had better stop, perhaps,' said Hastings. " 'Oh, yes, yes,' echoed my wife Clara, eagerly. 'I seem to s-e such dreadful things !' " 'Why we are doing no harm,' said the calm voice of Doctor Cresswell. (Here the Russian laughed.) 'We are simply pursuing lawful sci- entific knowledge. We will go on. But, Mrs. Leslie, this is bad for you. The excitement has 'got on your nerves,' and it won't do for you to try them any more. 'Leslie, take her away to Mrs. Ciesswell, and come back if you like.' "I looked at Clara. She was trembling all over. Her dilated eyes were fixed on the lumin- ous cloud as if she saw strange things there which were hidden from us. I saw Dr. Cress- "4 Thb Necklace of Panduka. d well was right and instantly took her unresist- ingly from the room to where Mrs. Cresswell (who did not approve of these 'scientific investi- gations') was sitting, and left them together. "I have been thankful ever since that I did so ! "Then Cresswell spoke again. 'You say you have taken the place of Vera RostoflFchin, the medium. Where is she?' " 'In another place and happy.' " 'Will she remember anything of it when she returns ?' " 'Yes, but confusedly, as people remember dreams, or some persons on earth remember inci- dents of past lives.' " 'We have lived before then?' " 'Of course.' "'And will live again?' *' 'Of course.' " 'And will the end for us be happiness at last?' " 'I cannot tell you.' , " 'Then you dejul do not know the future.' " 'More of it tiian you do ; but we have our limitations, ignorance , and troubles just as you have. Our knowledge is greater, and our pow- ers greater than yours, but still limited.' ' "Are you happy?* ' " 'Yes, for I strive to do good and have much more power than on earth. I have come to try and do good now. To warn you.' "'Of what?' " 'Of awakening evil forces.' " 'We wish to do no such thing.' " 'You do not; but the strongest one among you does,' The Necklace of Panduia. 115 ***WT'at do you mean by evil forces?* "'Uncontrolled forces. Dangerous forces. Some of them are evil thoughts materialized.' " 'Can you not tell us more of them?' " *I know no more.' "Here the Russian spoke impatiently. 'This leads to nothing ! We are losing a great oppor- tunity to acquire knowledge by wasting precious time in parleying with a feeble and igaorant spirit — ^a spirit from one of the lower planes. Let me assume control.' '"One more question!' said the Doctor and Hastings together. 'Are all spirits like you iiap- " 'Very happy. We have enlarged spheres of knowledge, and sometimes large opportunities of doing good.' " 'Then you know now more of the source of all good?' " 'We kaow little more than you do.' " 'Have you then religions like ours ?' " 'No. The good hope and trust ; the bad dis- trust and despair. But I can answer no more curious ap-' ile questions. I came to do you good — to ^ 5u, as I said. You are all here to-night in 1 .isitive and daring moods. By chance your minds have been filled with images of violence and primitive savagery. These images — these imaginings — under certain conditions can be materialized, and there is a strong, daring influence among you who ijieans to do this, if it can be done. Beware of the result!' " 'Bah, but this is absurd I' here broke in the Russian. ''^" ' Anglo-Saxons think of nothing ii6 The Necklace of Pandura. but what you call religion! Good things— evil things — all phantasms! Every savant — every educated man knows that there is no good and no evil — only circumstances, knowledge and will. Finish quickly, ?.nd then I will show you a great —a real— experiment, which may teach us some- thing—which may give us a power— a mighty power. Bui see, you can ask no more ! The in- fluence has departed. Try !' "It was as he had said. Question after ques- tion was only answered by the regular breathing of the medium in her magnetic sleep. The strange, ghastly, luminous cloud still swirled over the table, and the feeling of dread, which had quite gone from all of us while speaking with the last influence, returned suddenly — and with redoubled force. "The Russian spoke again. 'You will let me try nov; >' he said. As he looked round at us his face, seen in that strange illumination, wore an expression of wrought up resolve and desperate concentration of will, as if against some strong adversary which he yet hoped to overcome. We all assented. 'I will show you something worth while then,' he said, 'something that will lead to results that may give us new and great forces to employ in the world; or that ma> destroy us every one— who knows ? At any rate the risk is no greater than those run every day by explor- ers, travellers and investigators, and the results and rewards — how infinitely greater! Com- meuQons !' "We knew not what those strange and arrogant words meant then, but we have since been cer- The Necklace of Pandura. 117 tain that the ill-fated Russian savant had obtained some insight into the means by which the terrible power of materializing thoughts (a thing which can be done, and which has been done) could be effected. "To some extent he succeeded, but by the un- happy sequence of events which I have en^.eav- ored to trace, the terrible forces called up by him proved beyond his control. " 'May I ask you to sit still, and not to move, whatever happens — or get frightened — if you can help it,' he said. That might be dangerous. This is serious,' he added, sitting down. "We all sat silent in the darkness with our hands on the table waiting. We had not long to wait. Again the shiver came that passed through nerve and bone. Again came the strange tremor like that of a slight passing earthquake, and at the same time an overwhelming wave of what I can only call sheer physical terror was felt by all of us. "The luminous cloud rolled off the table, and wavered across the room, and there condensed, and rapidly changed form an'' color. It grew brighter, deeper red every moment, and seemed, too, every moment to contract — to concentrate-— to materialize, in short. "Rapidly the ominous cloud condensed — grew dark red — then darker still — assuming the ap- pearance of a misshapen, gigantic, but yet hu- man-like form. It was almost pitch dark in the room now, the ghastly light having vanished, but still we could see amidst the darkness the darker shape of that strange nameless thing as it Ii8 The Necklace of Pandura. crouched in a comer — ^and the green glare of a pair of demon-like rolling eyes. "Rostoffchin stood up erect — calm and strong. What he meant I do not know, but these were tiie words he spoke : "'?;irit of murder! Spirit and inspirer of primitive force and violence, you must obey my will !' "For the moment he succeeded. The dimly seen hideous appearance seemed to bend and cower as before a master, and to slowly approach. "All at once his sister, our medium, Vera Rostoffchin, rose slowly to her feet, and gazed with dilated eyes at that hideous thing which came slowly creeping out of the darkness. Then so startling — so agonized a shriek sprung from her white lips that our hearts stood still. That shriek broke the spell laid on the appearance, and I believe, caused what happened. "That unhappy moment and cry of his sister broke the concentrated force of his will, which controlled the thing which he had called up, by distracting for a moment his attention — and this cost him his life. He sprang towards his sister. "Instantly the huge form, as if released from a chain, rushed at us in the dark. "All that I have ever known of terror before was as nothing to the nightmare-like horror of the next few moments. The great table was smashed to kindling wood, furniture was hurled about like leaves, and a horrible jabbering sound like that made by an infuriated ape came from the dark comer where a desperate struggle was evidently proceeding. 1$ The Necklace of Pandura. 119 "I remember raising the insensible form of Vera Rostoffchin and endeavoring to carry her off from the dreadful room by the great door at the end of it which led by a corridor to Mrs. Cresswell's apartments, "As I endeavored to open the door, there was a horrible choking cry ii the dark behind and a sound like the snapping of dry sticks. Then something black and huge rushed out of the blackness and an immense hand attached to a tremendously muscular arm of abnormal length, covered with coarse matted hair, gripped me like a vice. Such strength I had never felt. "I struggled a moment in fierce despair, then a heavy Indian club, snatched by Robert Hast- ings from one of the trophies that adorned the walls, fell crushingly on that clutching hand ; and the thing with a bellow, released me, and started back. I carried Vera through the door, followed swiftly by Hastings and Dr. Cresswell, and we hurriedly barred the door behind us, thinking in our confusion that Rostoffchin was with us. We bore the girl up the dimly lighted corridor to the rooms where Mrs. Cresswell, my wife and some of the affrighted servants rushed to meet us. « We laid her gently down on a lounge, and Dr. Cresswell bent over her. 'Gk)od Heavens, she is dead!' he gasped instantly. " 'Impossible !' 'Are you sure ?' 'Nonsense ! Do something, man !' came from all sides. " 'Nothing can be done,' he said, looking up from where he knelt beside her. 'She is quite dead. Dead from heart failure. She died in that ! 120 The Necklace of Panduka. " room (he pointed back) from an attack of heart failure caused by excitement — and fear I' "Fear ! I could well believe it. In the beauti- ful dilated eyes and frozen on the delicate perfect features was an expression that it broke my heart to see — the unmistakable stamp of dread, intense, h >peless fear ! What was it that she saw with her clearer spiritual vision which could thus para- lyze and stop that dauntless heart ! Heaven only knows ! " 'Rostoffchin I Where's Rostoffchin? Call him ! Where is he? Heavens, he's nowhere here I He must be still in that room!' Thus calling, we rushed back down the corridor, ready (to do us all justice) to face the horror of that dark cham- ber without hesitation, now that we realized that he was there. As we approached the door, there was not a sound. Instead of the trampling, smashing and roaring that had rung in our ears a few moments ago, there was a silence in that room 'which might have been felt.* " The power' has passed away. The influence — whatever it was — that brought about these things, has ended,' whispered Dr. Cresswell. 'We will find nothing of the thing he material- ized in here.' "We opened the door of the room, and went in, holding our lamps above our heads. "He was sitting in a strange contorted atti- tude in the great arm chair at the top of the table, his head fallen singularly and limply on one shoulder. The hands were clinched, and the whole attitude of the limbs betokened that the man had been thrust back into the position in which we found him by some gigantic force. But The Necklace of Pandura. 121 when we raised the head, and saw the face, there was the ghastly horror f "I once saw the corpse of a man in Madrid who had suffered death by that hideous Spanish instrument of execution — 'the garrotte.' This machine, by means of an iron ring or collar round the neck, tightened by turning a screw behind, crushes to atoms the vertebrae of the neck. The iHce of the executed man, with its starting eyes and blood streaming nostril, was exactly similar to the one before us — and with good reason. The neck of our ill-fated friend had been literally twisted round, the vertebrae crushed and dislo- cated by the clutch of some gigantic hand. "Well, of course, there was an inquiry — some sensation — some discussion — soon desisted from somehow (my friends were men of great influ- ence, social and political), during which various theories were suggested — all wrong ones. "There is in my opinion only one solution to this grim mystery. Poor Rostoflfchin, whether accidentally or by design (but I think the latter) had managed for a time to materialize some form of those primitive beings — ^half beast, half man, who lived in this earth long ago — in the horrible times before all history; or, perhaps — I don't know — even something worse. The feat cost him his life, as well as that of his beautiful and gifted sister. "At any rate, you know why I have given up theosophy and occultism. I admit the fascina- tion of these cults, but after what I have seen, I have no desire while investigating their wonder- ful secrets, to come during some unguarded mo- ment in contact again with some of their 'Ua- known Forces.' " i|i ■andsUilWiiM -i- I 'It Sam S. & Lee Shubert direct the following theatres and theatrical attractions in America : Hippodrome, Lyric. Casino, Dalyt, Lew Fields. Herald Sqnare and Princess Thea- tre*, New York. Garrick Theatre, Chicago. Lyric Theatre, Philadelphia. Shobert Theatre, Brooklyn. Belr.sco Theatre, Washing- ton. Belasco Theatre, Pittsburg. Shubert Theatre, Newark. Shubert Theatre, Utica. Grand Opera House, Syra- cuse. Baker Theatre, Rochester. Opera House, Providence. Worcester Theatre, Worces- ter. Hyperion Theatre, New Haven. Lyceum Theatre, Buffalo. Colonial Theatre, Cleveland. Rand's Opera House, Troy. Garrick Theatre, St. Louis. Sam S. Shubert Theatre, Norfolk, Va. Shubert Theatre, Columbus. Lyric, Cincinnati. Mary Anderaon Theatre, Louisville. New Theatre, Richmond, Va. New Theatre, Lexington, Kj. New Theatre, Mobile. New Theatre, Atlanta. Shubert Theatre, Milwau- kee. Lyric Theatre, New Orleans. New Marlowe Theatre, Chattanooga. New Theatre, Detroit. Grand Opera House, Dav- enport, Iowa. New Theatre, Toronto. New Sotheni Theatre, Den- ver. Sam S. Shubert Theatre, Kansas City. Majestic Theatre, Los An- geles. Belasco Theatre, Portland. Shubert Theatre, Seattle. Majestic Theatre, San Fran- cisco. E. H. Sothem & Julia Mar- lowe in repertoire. ^ i Mjjjjwt Anglia and Htary • Shot* Actm.** Mary Muincriag in "Olori- ..-. « . Maw. AlU NatimoT*. TliicM. W. Rom in "The OUwr Girl." Ccctlia hottxu. Clus Bloodgood. Blnneht Ring. Alcsandcr Can. Digbj Bell. "The Girl Behind the Counter." "The Ught Eternal.' "The Snow Man." HcnnrWoodraffin "Brown of Harrard." '*The SaereC Orchard," by Channing Pollock. De Wolf Homer in " Hap* pyland." *^ Bddie Poy in " The Orchid." Magpierite aark, in a new opera. "The Social Whirl," with Chas. J. Ron. James T. Power* in "The Blue Moon." Blanche Bates in " The Girl Bertha Kallch from the Golden West." ^^ ^ J' „ DaTid Warfield in "The ^^^ ^*^^'" MuiicMarter." ..xhe Man on the Box." " The Rose of the Rancho," with Rose Starr. Cyril Scott in " The Prince Harrison Gray Furl's Chap." ATTRACTIONS. „ ., _, , . ^ Mrs. Fiske in "The New «»• Temple's Telegram." York Idea. "The Three of Us." You cannot go wrong in selecting one of these play-houses for an evening's entertain- ment in whatever city you may happen to be. II .1-. ; ^1