Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 81: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A HOUSE ON THE GRAND CANAL. or by what terrible manifestation, strong as Satan, he so chastises the wicked. Out of that room comes relentless death—that is all we know.” Janet told her story well, and her guests shivered a little in the sun. The ice in her voice had so insinuated at darker and more unmentionable horrors. . Then the duchesse laughed. “TJ congratulate you, my dear!” she cried. “The Wheelwrights must be almost too good to be true to exist in such a house. Ninety-nine and two-thirds per cent pure. It floats!” That night, in the flushed, relaxed and confidential hour that follows a good dinner eaten in pleasant company, inevitably the old legend returned to the thoughts of the party who sat at ease in the candlelight in the house that belonged to the villain of that legend. Throughout the meal the conversation had been interesting, free and vivacious, the food delicious, the wine of a fine vintage; and so the party was flushed with well-being. Reflection came with di- gestion, and Janet’s guests wondered that she could love this palace, for, as the roses on the table wilted a little in the heat, came uneasy belief in ghosts and haunted houses and the dread power of the dead over the quick. As they sat there, the great dining hall, with its faded brocade and tapestry hang- ings and old polished oak all softly aglow in the haze of candlelight, suddenly seemed artificial. A smiling chimera raised from an icy void that they could feel, had sur- rounded that gracious room. Just outside the circle of light and perfume fear had crept, waiting to touch one’s breast with a cold hand. The duchesse’s face was a little pale be- neath the rouge as she rose from the table and strolled to the arched windows open- ing on the canal. The long windows gave a view down the Grand Canal, quite dark for a long distance until it met furious light and a Campanile in silhouette against the sky. It was like a blow in the eyes, that sudden light in the soft darkness; light in the sky and light tripled and quadrupled until one light was a myriad of lights in the mirror of water. Through the arches of 715 the balcony she could see the little gon- dolas, just shifting shadows on shadow, and hear drifting through the stillness the quick slap and suck, slap and suck, of their oars, and the singing from the barges anchored in the lagoon. There was peace and beauty out there, but at her back hovered a menace. She was so conscious of a presence just be- hind her which any second might stir her hair with a breath from the grave, or put a dreadful face over her shoulder, that she fought with an impulse to whirl, screaming, to fight the thing away. The people at the table were laughing, the queer laugh that comes from the lips only, and it was out of key. There was no rest in this room. ‘* Janet,” said the duchesse, turning from the window very slowly, her body held quite stiff and straight, “‘ there is something the matter with this house, and I am scared. Is there always this feeling here?” Janet shook her head; there was trouble in her eyes. “Tt never felt this before. queer.” ‘““ Ah!” Alice de Fouchard Roche sighed, secret relief in her heart that she could speak; that her lips would form recogniz- able sentences. ‘‘ Then some one around here is very, very bad indeed, and Signor Effizzi is inviting him out. The old boy is certainly walking to-night.” Suddenly her face lit and a malicious smile grew on her lips. She flung both arms out dra- matically and cried: ‘ ~e. us defy this ghost, lay his spirit or follow him to hell!” Milly English spoke for the first time that night. ‘“ No,” she said sharply. ‘“ No—no/!” “1 dare you—I dare you all!” cried the duchesse in a deep voice, her arms still flung wide and her red mouth trembling a little. ‘‘One of us shall sleep this night in the haunted room. I put it to a vote. Let those who are afraid stay out of it, and we others shal! draw lots to decide who rests to-night in Effizzi’s bed.” ‘You are mad, Alice.” Janet’s face was lifted to her as if in entreaty. “Tt is a test—a test. It—is— Will not one of ANICLAOOKKS CO) (S@