face of Chita Viosca, the murmur of the rising storm. Then
flickers of spectral lightning passed through his eyes, through

his brain, with every throb of the burning arteries; then utter
darkness came,---a darkness that surged and moaned, as the

circumfluence of a shadowed sea. And through and over the
moaning pealed one multitudinous human cry, one hideous

interblending of shoutings and shriekings ... A woman's hand was
locked in his own ... "Tighter," he muttered, "tighter still,

darling! hold as long as you can!" It was the tenth night of
August, eighteen hundred and fifty-six ...

---"Cheri!"
Again the mysterious whisper startled him to consciousness,---the

dim knowledge of a room filled with ruby colored light,---and the
sharp odor of vinegar. The house swung round slowly;---the

crimson flame of the lamp lengthened and broadened by
turns;---then everything turned dizzily fast,---whirled as if

spinning in a vortex ... Nausea unutterable; and a frightful
anguish as of teeth devouring him within,---tearing more and more

furiously at his breast. Then one atrocious wrenching, rending,
burning,---and the gush of blood burst from lips and nostrils in

a smothering deluge. Again the vision of lightnings, the
swaying, and the darkness of long ago. "Quick!---quick!---hold

fast to the table, Adele!---never let go!" ...
... Up,---up,---up!---what! higher yet? Up to the red sky!

Red---black-red ... heated iron when its vermilion dies. So,
too, the frightful flood! And noiseless. Noiseless because

heavy, clammy,---thick, warm, sickening---blood? Well might the
land quake for the weight of such a tide!---Why did Adele speak

Spanish? Who prayed for him? ...
---"Alma de Cristo santisima santificame!

"Sangre de Cristo, embriagame!
"O buen Jesus, oye me!" ...

Out of the darkness into--such a light! An azure haze!
Ah!---the delicious frost! ... All the streets were filled with

the sweet blue mist ... Voiceless the City and white;---crooked
and weed grown its narrow ways! ... Old streets of tombs, these

... Eh! How odd a custom!---a Night-bell at every door. Yes, of
course!---a night-bell!---the Dead are Physicians of Souls: they

may be summoned only by night,---called up from the darkness and
silence ... Yet she?---might he not dare to ring for her even by

day? ........ Strange he had deemed it day!---why, it was black,
starless ... And it was growing queerly cold ...... How should he

ever find her now? It was so black ... so cold! ...
---"Cheri!"

All the dwelling quivered with the mighty whisper.
Outside, the great oaks were trembling to their roots;---all the

shore shook and blanched before the calling of the sea.
And Carmen, kneeling at the feet of the dead, cried out, alone in

the night:---
---"O Jesus misericordioso!---tened compasion de el!"

End