The Black Mask — page 31: what you’re looking at

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

The Summons 29. More from the crumpled attitude of Elsa Lloyd in her chair than from the words of the elder nurse the interne gathered the meaning of the strange situation. His eyes were wide with amazement. He looked to the indicator and then turned to the nurse. His lips moved, stirred mutely a moment. “Does Dr. Stockbridge know?” he asked at last, “No.” : “Tl tell him!’ And he spun about on his heel and was gone. The nurse moved toward the indi- cator mechanically, her hand lifting slowly and pressing the knob that re- leased the number. The indicator was bare. But scarcely had her arm low- ered to her side than a bell tinkled. It was 42 again! Elsa Lloyd, her elbows on the little desk, her face buried in her hands, did not look up. She knew from the touch of her companion’s hand on her shoul- der what the bell meant. The nurse slipped into a chair beside the younger woman. For a long time she was silent; then: “T can’t understand it,’ she muttered, half to herself. ‘“Tve never had such an experience before. I’ve seen so many deaths, and death was always so final, so completely the—the end. Of course, there’s the soul, the spirit—it’s called by so many names and I’ve heard much nonsense about it. I never be- lieved—few of us do—but every now and then something happens , . . Like this. What can it mean?” Despite herself a tremor, half of doubt, half of awe, shook her. She turned to Elsa. “What do you know about Carring- ton?” she asked. ‘You were with him for weeks. Can you think of anything that—” She did not complete her question, her thought too unformed fot words. “Was there anything,” she resumed in a moment, ‘before he died—anything that might explain this?” Elsa sat up, but her head was averted as she spoke, “JT don’t understand,” she said, her voice low and frail. “But when I was in the room just now, I felt—I seemed to be aware of—” “Of what?’ prompted the elder nurse, “Something. I don’t know what. As though some one were in the room— besides myself and—and it.” “The corpse?” x Elsa nodded. © “He didn’t want to die,” the girl went on after a while. “There was some- thing between him and his son. You know how unhappy he was about him. He loved him, his only son, and he didn’t want to die feeling that young Carrington hadn’t redeemed himself. You know what a black sheep he’s been. Once *« came into the room just. after his son had left. The old man had been crying. I think it was that that kept him alive long after we knew his case was hopeless. He told me once he couldn’t die until his son had made good, that his spirit would never rest—” “Hisspirit? Did: Kessay; thate i . “Ves, ” | The elder nurse’s eyes closed slowly and her hands met in her Jap. “Do you think—” Dozen Elsa, leaning forward. “T don’t know,” puittered the elder woman, her voice scarcely audible. II Born women came to their feet as they heard hurried footsteps approach- ing. The interne entered, a coat flung over his arm, “He’s coming,” he announced. Dr. Stockbridge entered the office, visibly annoyed and angry, his long fin- Comic! SOO - . . — | ) 4 |