When the light failed we were all invited into the parlour to listen to a song by Miss Darrow.The house, as you are perhaps aware, overlooks Dorchester Bay.The afternoon had been very hot, but at dusk a cold east wind had sprung up, which, as it was still early in the season, was not altogether agreeable to our host, sitting as he was, back to, though fully eight feet from, an open window looking to the east.Maitland, with his usual quick observation, noticed his discomfort and asked if he should not close the window.The old gentleman did not seem to hear the question until it was repeated, when, starting as if from a reverie, he said: "If it will not be too warm for the rest of you, I would like to have it partly closed, say to within six inches, for the wind is cold"; and he seemed to relapse again into his reverie.
Maitland was obliged to use considerable strength to force the window down, as it stuck in the casing, and when it finally gave way it closed with a loud shrieking sound ending in the bang of the counterweights.At the noise Darrow sprang to his feet, exclaiming: "Again! The same sound! I knew I could not mistake it!" but by this time Gwen was at his side, pressing him gently back into his seat, as she said to him in an undertone audible to all of us: "What is it, father?" The old gentleman only pressed her closer by way of reply, while he said to us apologetically: "You must excuse me, gentlemen.I have a certain dream which haunts me, - the dream of someone striking me out of the darkness.Last night I had the same dream for the seventh time and awoke to hear that window opened.There is no mistaking the sound I heard just now; it is identical with that I heard last night.I sprang out of bed, took a light, and rushed down here, for I am not afraid to meet anything I can see, but the window was closed and locked, as I had left it! What do you think, Doctor," he said, turning to me, "are dreams ever prophetic?""I have never," I replied, anxious to quiet him, "had any personal experience justifying such a conclusion." I did not tell him of certain things which had happened to friends of mine, and so my reply reassured him.
Maitland, who had been startled by the old gentleman's conduct, now returned to the window and opened it about six inches.There was no other window open in the room, and yet so fresh was the air that we were not uncomfortable.Darrow, with ill-concealed pride, then asked his daughter to sing, and she left him and went to the piano."Shall I not light the lamp?" I asked."I think we shall not need it," the old gentleman replied, "music is always better in the gloaming."In order that you may understand what follows, it will be necessary for me to describe to you our several positions in the room.The apartment is large, nearly square, and occupies the southeast corner of the house.The eastern side of the room has one window, that which had been left open about six inches, and on the southern side of the room there were two windows, both of which were securely fastened and the blinds of which had been closed by the painters who, that morning, had primed the eastern and southern sides of the house, preparatory to giving it a thorough repainting.On the north side of the room, but much nearer to the western than the eastern end, are folding doors.These on this occasion were closed and fastened.On the western side of the room is the piano, and to the left of it, near the southwest corner, is a door leading to the hallway.This door was closed.As I have already told you, Darrow sat in a high-backed easy-chair facing the piano and almost in the centre of the room.The partly opened window on the east side was directly behind him and fully eight feet away.Herne and Browne sat upon Darrow's right and a little in front of him against the folding doors, while Maitland and I were upon his left, between him and the hall door.Gwen was at the piano.There are no closets, draperies, or niches in the room.I think you will now be able to understand the situation fully.
Whether the gloom of the scene suggested it to her, or whether it was merely a coincidence, I do not know, but Miss Darrow began to sing "In the Gloaming" in a deep, rich contralto voice which seemed fraught with a weird, melancholy power.When I say that her voice was ineffably sympathetic I would not have you confound this quality either with the sepulchral or the aspirated tone which usually is made to do duty for sympathy, especially in contralto voices.Every note was as distinct, as brilliantly resonant, as a cello in a master's hand.So clear, so full the notes rang out that I could plainly feel the chair vibrate beneath me.
"In the gloaming, 0 my darling!
When the lights are dim and low, And the quiet shadows falling Softly come and softly go.
When the winds are sobbing faintly With a gentle unknown woe, Will you think of me and love me As you did once, long ago?
"In the gloaming, 0 my darling!
Think not bitterly of me, Though I passed away in silence, Left you lonely, set you free.
For my heart was crushed with longing.
What had been could never be:
It was best to leave you thus, dear, Best for you and best"But the line was never finished.With a wild cry, more of fear than of pain, Darrow sprang from his chair."Gentlemen, I have been stabbed!" was all he said, and fell back heavily into his seat.Gwen was kneeling before him in an instant, even before I could assist him.His right hand was pressed to his throat and his eyes seemed starting from their sockets as he shouted hoarsely: "A light, a light! For God's sake, don't let him strike me again in the dark!"Maitland was already lighting the gas and Herne and Browne, so Browne afterward told me, were preparing to seize the assailant.Iremembered, after it all was over, a quick movement Browne had made toward the darkest corner of the room.
