The Argosy — page 249: what you’re looking at

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

Lady Creighton. 235 unsteady, accents, that he bade us relight the torches if we ‘had the means. ; But even as he spoke a vivid, lambent light shone about us, reveal- ing the tall, slender figure of a woman whose dark, rich beauty was set off to exquisite advantage by a heavy black satin robe, with. broad, trajling, crimson cincture, and knots of the same ruddy hue burning: under diamond fastenings in the jetty hair, and at the graceful throat. She stood at the end of the hall, one slender hand gliding over the adorning frescoes; one little crimson-slippered foot pressed hard against the woodwork below. With panting breath and glittering eye Colonel Elton bent forward, watching till the seeming wall fell slowly ‘back. Then he sprang forward, shouting fiercely : “Lady Creighton! Demon! Fiend!” We only saw a spasm of pain contract the beautiful features—a swift hand raised toward the door, and all was darkness. Hurriedly relighting our torches we approached the wall; but our eager hands had scarcely touched its frescoes when the low wail of a harp struck us motionless. A few wandering chords—a few bewilderingly sweet and mournful strains, and then there rose a full, perfect melody, swelling gradually into a harmonious tempest that every instant approached nearer and nearer. Like great tidal waves it'dashed up to our very feet, and then receded slowly, only to sweep back and again encompass us in a weird storm of melodious sounds. To and fro it swept—to and fro, to and fro. Franz was the first to shake off the spell that bound us. “Tt comes from this wall!” he exclaimed. “Let’s break it in— there's no good behind it |” The Colonel started as if from a dream. “Wait! We'll first search among these frescoes, pressing a foot as she did,” he answered hoarsely. We found the secret springs, but whether hours or minutes were consumed by the task I cannot say. As the door swung open the. grand melody wavered, shivering into wild, fitful gusts that drifted sweetly away till the far distance had swallowed every sound. And in a silence almost as weird as the music, we traversed the long narrow passage and winding stairs up to three chambers with iron-bound doors and high grated windows. All. the belongings of a lady’s drawing-room, bed-chamber, and boudoir were scattered through these rooms, and many tokens of a vanished presence. No dismantling hand had ever been here. Paintings garnished the walls ; richly-bound volumes lay heaped in pretty confusion on the tables; a harp, with broken, rusted strings, and a quaint chair beside it, stood just as the musician had left it. Under the lace and velvet hangings of the couch was_the imprint of a human form. Even the gem-studded brush beneath~ the' dressing comicbooks.com—