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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Gordon Craig Soldier of Fortune"

There was but one way to account
for this occurrence--some human, aware of my presence, had removed the
candle, had stolen through the pitch darkness silently, and as swiftly
disappeared. I was locked in, trapped, and not alone!
I confess for an instant I was panic-stricken, shrinking back from the
horror of the black unknown which enveloped me. I could see and hear
nothing, yet I seemed to feel a ghastly presence skulking behind that
impenetrable veil. My first inclination was to creep back to the door,
and escape into the outer passage. Yet pride restrained me, pride
quickly supplemented by a return of courage. It was a man surely, a
thing of flesh and blood, I was called upon to meet. He was no better
armed than myself, and he possessed no advantage in that darkness,
except his knowledge of surroundings. I straightened up, and advanced
slowly, testing the wall with my hand, every muscle stiffened for
action, listening for the slightest sound. I encountered nothing,
heard nothing, until my groping fingers touched the rough plank of a
sleeping berth. I explored this cautiously, lifting the edge of a
coarse blanket, and reaching up to make sure the one above was also
unoccupied. Satisfied that both were empty I worked my way blindly
along to the second tier.


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