I  AWOKE this morning in the ward of a hospital, the most interesting patient, the house physician tells me, that has ever been received here since the building was erected.

      The interesting part did not lie in the fact that I had been found unconscious in the street with apparently no trace of injury or illness upon me, but because when the ambulance surgeon examined me for papers he found that my pockets were fairly bulging with precious gems, the value of which meant a princely fortune.

      I was weak and dazed when the physician told me about it, but noticing intuitively how keenly he watched me, and how suspiciously he and the nurse glanced at each other now and then, I hastened to rally my returning strength in order to tell him as quickly as possible the details of my most horrible experience.

      It is not often that a man gets lost in the woods adjoining his native village, but in the darkness of last night's sudden storm I strayed from the path, and soon had lost my bearings completely.

      With astonishing swiftness the sky became as black as ink, and the rain began falling with hardly a moment's warning.

      On and on I went through the rain and darkness, getting more and more confused about my location, as I noticed no lights, even in the distance.

      I knew that the woods extended many miles toward the city, but whether I was headed toward the town or for home, I could not discern in the impenetrable darkness.

      I remained under the trees as long as I dared, then fled from their protection in awful terror, as the lightning struck one and shivered its branches.

      There was nothing to do but search for shelter. I rushed hither and thither in the darkness and cried aloud, hoping that someone would hear me.

      I was wet to the skin and breathless from running, yet I dared not stop for a single moment.

      Suddenly in the light of a blinding flash I saw before me the outlines of a house standing by the roadside, but a few steps distant.

      Even in the first moment of delight I was thrilled with alarm at its unexpected presence in that spot. I knew the district as well as I knew my farm, and I was positive there was no such house within fifty miles of that location.

      A feeling of horror swept through my brain — the sight of the house had completely unnerved me.

      Yet there it stood, grim, silent and spectral. There was not a glimmer of light from basement to roof, and the whole architecture of the house looked strange and unearthly.

      The wind swept by me in furious gusts, the rain poured down and threatened to engulf me. There was nothing to do but rush to the house and trust to the Fates for my night's protection.

      I pounded on the door, but there was no response. In sheer desperation I broke in a window.

      When 1 was safely inside and away from the storm I found that I was able to think more calmly. A thrill of relief passed over my form, yet my heart seemed to sicken and sink within me.

      The atmosphere of the house was cold and damp, there was the odor of a vault in the room I had entered.

      Hastily scratching a match I looked around. Wonder of wonders! I had found a palace!

      The draperies, although musty, were rich with gold, the furniture was heavy and the carpet like velvet.

      I called aloud to my unseen host.

      Surely someone must inhabit this princely dwelling.

      But the echo of my voice came back to me in such a hollow moan that I fairly trembled. In spite of the hangings and furniture of the place my cry had resounded from room to room, and returned to me as empty as though I had screamed in a tunnel.

      Such a curious matter affected me strangely. It was another proof of the unnatural appearance of the house, and yet I was inside it and it had not crumbled.

      Creeping from room to room, I inspected the dwelling, finding luxury and magnificence everywhere, but no sign or sound of a living tenant.

      At last I became too drowsy to feel afraid, and too utterly weary to spend more time in speculation. Whatever it was, it was a shelter from the storm, and if it was deserted, my presence would not harm it.

      Cautiously I groped my way to the stairs, then climbed them in search of a sleeping apartment. The velvet carpet was like moss beneath my feet; an army might have tramped up those low, broad stairs and never have disturbed a sleeping inmate.

      In the upper hall the air was better, but there was still that dampness that chilled one's blood — that charnel-house odor that froze one's marrow.

      Opening a door at my right, I entered a room — another match showed me that it was what I longed for.

      There were gorgeous hangings on every side, and a massive bed occupied one curtained corner.

      Between two heavily draped windows stood a rosewood dressing-case, composed of drawers and a plate-glass mirror.

      But the broad, velvet sofa was what I sought. It was a pity to soil the bed with my rain-soaked garments.

      I turned the key in the door before I lay down, then smiled a little at my own precaution. I would hardly be disturbed in this deserted abode, unless it was by spirits or uncanny creatures.

      I fell asleep, wondering about the house, about its presence and its gorgeous furnishings. The storm was raging as hard as ever — the last I remember was a peal of thunder.

      Suddenly I awoke from a heavy sleep, and in a moment I had arisen to a sitting posture.

      My hair was standing upright on my head with fright. I could feel my limbs stiffening as the thrill of terror swept through them.

      What was it that trespassed on my stolen rest? I tried to cry out, but my tongue was speechless.

      There was a hand upon the door that led to my room. Oh, how glad I was that it was securely fastened!

      I strained my eyes, and my heart stood still. One moment of suspense, then — the door was opened.

      Great God! What manner of thing was this? What hideous apparition had appeared before me?

      Moving slowly, but screeching with shrill laughter as she came, a fearful, wizzen-faced old hag approached me from the open doorway.

      I saw distinctly her sparse, gray hair framing her blear eyes and shrunken neck — then the skeleton-like arms, the wrinkled breasts — then ——

      As if I had been struck with a heavy hammer I fell back, stunned, among the pillows.

      Was it woman or ghost that stood before me? A wraith from the tomb or the infernal regions?

      It was only a head on a scrawny neck, a pair of arms set in bony shoulders, but below there was nothing in the shape of limbs or body.

      Screaming with laughter this thing floated by at about the height of a medium tall woman, and as it moved slowly, like a person walking, it waved its gaunt arms in the blackness above it.

      Then, though my body was like lead, my ears heard acutely as she talked and jibbered in an excitable manner.

      "He is mine! He is mine!" she cried, over and over. "The bonny young lad with his golden tresses! To-night I shall hold his head on my breast. I have his promise at last, my own beautiful darling!

      "I will deck myself for my love!" she shrieked, then moved swiftly through the darkness to the massive mirror.

      In the polished glass I could see her face even plainer than I had seen it when she passed me. There was a curious glow like phosphorescent flame that seemed to fall upon her, while the rest of the room was enveloped in darkness. Had the grave given up its dead, her flesh could never have been more hideous. Yet she gazed at herself and smiled in glee. She leered at her image and blew kisses at it from the tips of her crooked, claw-like fingers. Mumbling and jibbering she moved to and fro, arching her scrawny neck and uplifting her shoulders.

      It was as though she was studying each hideous pose and selecting the one which would best please her lover.

      Then, while I gazed, she bent her head and the bony fingers began toying with the keys that dangled in a bunch at the side of the mirror.

      Selecting one she opened a drawer which she drew out entirely and dropped on the carpet. Again the ragged hair fell about the scrawny neck as she bent and thrust her arm into the aperture below her.

      She must have touched a secret spring and discovered another drawer in the interior of the dresser, for a moment later she withdrew her hand fairly overflowing with precious jewels.

      Over and over she returned to the drawer, bringing forth each time more exquisite treasures, and then breaking forth into peals of shrill laughter she began decking her forehead, her neck and fingers.

      "He will love me now!" she cried with pride, "when he sees the glitter of my costly trinkets! There are few who have diamonds and pearls like these — I will wear them to-night in my true love's honor! O, false, false men — I have probed your secrets — I have learned your natures through years of sorrow! Beauty is your god and wealth your master! See! I am blessed with wealth and beauty, can you not love me now, my bonny darling?"

      There were diamonds and rubies shining in her hair, and her breast was ablaze with its mass of jewels.

      Suddenly she threw her arms above her head, twirling and twisting them in fantastic contortions.

      The gems on her brow seemed to shake and quiver; her bosom rose and fell in a rhythmical manner.

      Like a flash of lightning it crossed my brain — she was dancing for joy, this unearthly old creature.

      Flinging up her arms, she burst forth into song, her strident voice grating harshly on the air in time to the measure which her arms were beating.

"Haste, my love, the hour is near; See, I deck myself to please thee!  Come, love, come, I wait thee here, Love with kisses soon shall tease thee!  See the bright-eyed gems awaiting, See the lips thou soon shalt press!  Midnight is the time for mating, Hasten to thy bride's caress!"

      The hideous song ended in a hollow laugh, and the motions of the head and bosom gradually subsided.

      What next would she do? I stared in horror. The ghostly dance had nearly bereft me of reason.

      Slowly the long arms were extended before her, and the head began swaying with a different motion, which was as unmistakable as the other. It did not need the mockery of her raven's croak to see that she was crooning a lullaby, and rocking in her arms an imaginary baby.

      Never shall I forget that sight! My God! It is before me at this very minute!

      Mad with the passion of love, she sang, or rather croaked, as to a sleeping infant. Hushing and cooing as a mother would, she rocked and soothed it on her scrawny bosom.

      Suddenly she stopped in her cradle song — it was evident that she was done with her motherhood's fancies.

      Breathlessly she glided back to the mirror, and with husky tones continued her talking.

      "Aha! My cunning shall conquer yet! He shall love me! He shall — my bonny darling!

      "Do you care for rubies, my pet?" she cried, as she clasped a fire-red bracelet on her skeleton wrist, "or is it sapphires like these that will give you most pleasure?

      "Ah! He is young and proud, the lad I love, but I shall feel the throb of his heart on my own. To-night! To-night — he shall be my husband!"

      She tossed her arms far above her head; the flash of her jewels lit the apartment.

      "Hark! Whose was that footstep?" she suddenly screamed, then like a frightened thief kept still and listened.

      Gliding by me again towards the outer door, the head, arms and bosom came close within my vision.

      With the gems in her locks they looked grayer than ever, and each hair stood out stiffly like a fragment of metal. Her eyes were rolling in a frightened way. She was gnawing her chin with the fang that was longest.

      Close to the door she placed her ear, then withdrew it again and hurried back to the mirror.

      "It is he! It is he!"

      She was muttering now, but my ears were so tense that they caught every whisper.

      "He has come, my beloved! I know his dear step!"

      She jerked at her jewels in the delirium of happiness. Had he come? I listened in vain for a step. I was mad with the longing to witness this meeting!

      In the horror of the scene I had comprehended it all, but its grewsome fascination I could not fathom.

      She was a wretched old woman of miserly wealth, who had eaten out her heart with misguided passion. She loved a young man and would wed him, she said.

      Was it her or her jewels that he longed for?

      I wondered.

      He was coming. I knew it by the joy in her face and by the way she extended her arms in welcome.

      The rubies flared on her breast as she moved; the emeralds gleamed like the eyes of a dragon.

      Turning until she faced the outer door, she stood, half gasping, in her mad exultation.

      I saw the lean arms rise to encircle his neck, and the hideous lips protrude as though she would kiss him. In the rapture of the moment she seemed to forget her jewels.

      But in one brief moment her joy had fled, and with the miser's instinct she was guarding her treasure.

      Had he turned upon her then in this moment of her bliss? She shrieked like a fiend as she darted from him.

      Scream after scream pierced the air, awakening into life every slumbering echo. Shriller and sharper rose that blood-curdling cry from the dry, rasping throat of this hideous vision.

      "Murder! Help! Murder!"

      The cry filled my ears.

      "Save me!"

      The cry thrilled my marrow with horror.

      Even in her terror she returned to the mirror — it seemed as if she was guarding the secret drawer while she struggled with her ghostly assailant.

      The face of the mirror still reflected her features, but, merciful God! What a horrible picture!

      Like one whose throat had been clutched in a merciless grasp, she strangled and choked 'til her temples were livid.

      There was madness in the stare of those fast glazing eyes as they turned toward the thing that had thus come upon her.

      Fiercely the long, bony arms beat the air. I could see the skeleton fingers as they clawed into darkness.

      Was she struggling with him whom she so blindly adored, or was it some foe who had intruded upon her?

      Fainter and fainter her cries rent the air — she was choking again, I could hear her death gurgle.

      I strained my hot eyes for a sight of his face — I would have given my life for a glimpse of his person!

      How had he entered, and what was his shape? The strain on my brain was almost driving me frantic.

      But the woman alone was all I could see — the hideous old head and the trunkless bosom.

      Lower and lower bent the wizzened neck, as though with the presence of his weight upon it.

      The lank, bony arms were losing their strength. With a horrid groan she gave up the struggle.

      Down the old head fell with a dying grimace, and the unearthly vision was swallowed up in darkness.

      After it was over, my strength revived; the blood began slowly to flow through my members.

      Rising to my feet, I struck a match, then slowly crept over to the scene of the struggle.

      On my hands and knees I traversed the spot, finding no sign or vestige of the murdered woman.

      A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I rose to my feet before the mirror.

      In another moment I was fumbling with the keys that still dangled in their place beside the glass, and even in my terror of limb and brain I promptly selected the one which I had seen the woman use when she discovered the hiding-place of her jewels.

      Passing my hand over the surface of the dressing-case I found every drawer in its proper position, but just as I had seen her do, I drew out one drawer and dropped it gently upon the carpet.

      Then, thrusting in my hand, I explored the cavity. In a moment I had found the secret drawer; I tried the key; the drawer flew open!

      What my fingers touched I could not see, but I knew by the feeling that they were precious jewels.

      Rings, brooches and necklaces, I drew them forth, and even the reflection of my feeble match made them shine and sparkle with resplendent luster.

      In a fever of excitement I continued my search until I was confident that not a gem had escaped me.

      But my limbs were trembling as with an ague chill; I dared not remain there a moment longer.

      How I reached the road I do not know, but reaction of some kind must have followed promptly, for I was found, they tell me, lying unconscious in the road, my pockets fairly bulging with the mysterious jewels.