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Show i. THE HO US E OF A THOUSAND CANDLES a.. BY MEREDITH NICHOLSON Copyriglit ty Tkc3ollB-Mrrill Company J. ' CHAPTER lIL-r-Contintted. "Mr. 01enarmr wu very fond of ean-dle ean-dle light; be liked to gather up candlesticks, candle-sticks, and hisA collection is very fine. He called his place "The House of a Thousand "Candles." There's only about a hundred here; but it was one of his conceits that when the house wa finished there would be a thousand lights. He had quite a joking way, your grandfather. It suited his humor to call it a thousand. He enjoyed his ' own ' pleasantries, sir.V "I fancy he did," I replied, staring in bewilderment. ''Oil lamps might be more suited to your own taste, sir. .But your- grandfather grand-father would not have them. Ola brass and cepper "were specialties with him, and he 'had a particular taste, Mr. Glenarm had, in glass candlesticks. He held . that the crystal was most effective effec-tive of all. 1 11 go and let in the baggageman bag-gageman and then serve you Bome supper." sup-per." He went somberly out and I examined' exam-ined' the room with amazed and delighted de-lighted eyes. It was fiftv feet long and half as wide. The hard wood floor was covered with handsome rugs; every, ev-ery, piece, of furniture was quaint or interesting. Carved in the heavy oak paneling above the fireplace, in large Old-. English letters, was the inscription: inscrip-tion: THE SPIRIT Or MAN IS THE' . CANDLE OF THE LORD. And on either side great candelabra ' sent long arms across the hearth. ' All the books seemed related to architecture; architec-ture; German and French works stood v side by side among those by English jiesd American authors. I found art-hae-mCiloity represented in a division where Tail the titles were Latin or Italian. J opened several cabinets that contained con-tained sketches and drawings, all in careful order; and in another I found an elaborate card catalogue, evidently the . work of a practiced hand. The minute examination was too much for me; I threw myself into a great chair that might have been spoil from a ca-- ca-- thedral, satisfied to enjoy the general "effect. To find an apartment so hand-' hand-' some and so -marked by good, taste in the midst of an Indiana wood, staggered stag-gered me. To be sure, in approaching the house J bad seen only a dark bulk that conveyed no sense of its character or proportions; and certainly the entrance en-trance hall had not prepared me for the beauty of this room.- I was so lost in contemplation that I did not hear a door open behind me. The respectful, re-spectful, mournfofal voice of Bates announced: an-nounced: "There's a bite ready for you. sir." I folio-wed him through the ball to a small, bigh-walnscoted room where a table was simply set. "This is what Mr. Glenarm called the refectory. The dining-room, on the other side of the house, is unfinished. He took bis own meals here. The library was the main, thing with blm. He never lived to finish the house more's the pity. sir. Ha would have made- something some-thing very handsome of It if be'd bad a few years more. But be hoped, sir, , that you'd see U completed.. It was bis wish, sir. "Yes. to be sure," I replied. He brought cold fowl and a salad, and produced a bit of Stilton of unmistakable authenticity. "I trust the ale Is cooled to your liking. lik-ing. It's your grandfather's favorite, if I may say tt, sir." I liked the fellow's humility. He served me with a grave deference and an accus- tomed band. Candles In crystal holders shed an agreeable light upon the table; the room was snug and comfortable, and hickory logs In a small fireplace crackled cheerily. If my grandfather bad designed to punish me, wltb loneliness as bis weapon, bis shade. If it lurked near, must - have been grievously disappointed. I bad long been inured to my own society. I had often eaten my bread alone, and I found a pleasure In the quiet of the strange unknown bouse. There stole over me,- too. the satisfaction that I was at Jast obeying a wish of my grandfather s, that I was doing something he would 'have me do. I was touched by the traces dt rrervwbere of bis" Interest In what was Vo him the art of arts; there was some-thlng some-thlng quite fine In his devotion to It. The little refectory had its air of distinction, distinc-tion, though It" was without flecoration. There had been, we always said In the family, something whimsical or even morbid -In my grandsire's devotion to architecture; but I felt that It had really appealed to something dignified snd no- ble In his own mind and character, and a gentler mood than I had known In years possessed my heart. Ha had asked little of tne, and I determined that in that little lit-tle I woyld not fall. Bates gave me my coffee, put matches within reach and left the room. I drew out my 'cigarette case and was holding It half-opened, when the glass In the window win-dow back of me cracked sharply, a bullet whistled over my head, struck the opposite oppo-site wall and fell, flattened and marred. 00 the table under my hand. I CHAPTER IV. - a Voice From the Lake. I ran to the window and -peered out into in-to the night. The wood through which we had'approached the house seemed to encompass it. The branches of a great hniRhed the nanes. ' I was tugging "It's a-rifleball, I should say." The bullet was half-flattened by Us contact with the wall. It was a cartridge ball of large caliber, and might have been fired from either rifle or plstoL "It's very unusual, sir!" I wheeled upon him angrily and found him fumbling fum-bling wltb the bit of metal, a Jroubled look in his face. He at once continued, as though anxious to allay myears. "Quite accidental, most likely. Probably boys on the lake are shooting at ducks." I laughed out so suddenly that Bates started back In alarm. "You idiot!" I roared, seising blm by the collar with both bands and shaking blm fiercely. "You fool! Do the people around here shoot ducks at night? Do they shoot water-fowl with elephant guns and fire at people through windows Just for funT" I threw hlrn back against the table so that It leapedaway from him, and be fell prone on the floor. "Get up!" I commanded, "and fetch a lantern." He said nothing, but did as I bade him. We traversed the long cheerless hall to the front door, and I sent him before me Into the woodland. My notions of the geography of the region were the vaguest, but I wished to examine for my-aelf my-aelf the premises that evidently contained con-tained a dangerous prowler. 1 was very angry and my rage Increased as I followed fol-lowed Bates, who had suddenly retired within himself. We stood soon beneath the lights of the refectory window. The ground was covered with leaves which broke crisply under our" feet. v "W'hat lies beyond here?" I demanded. "About a quarter of mile of woods, sir, and then the lake." "Go-ahead," I ordered, "straight to the lake." I -was soon stumbling through rough underbrush similar to that through which w'e had approached the house. Bates awung along confidently enough ahead of me, pausing occasionally to lold back the branches. ' I began to feel, as my rage "abated, that I bad set out on a foolish undertaking. I was utterly at sea as to the character of the grounda; I was following a man whom I bad not seen until two hours before, and whom I began be-gan to suspect of all manner of designs upon me. It was wholly unlikely that the person who bad fired Into the windows would lurk about, and, moreover, the light of the lantern, the crack of the leaves and the breaking of the boughs advertised our approach loudly. I am, however, a perso giver to steadfastness In error, if nothing else, and I plunged along .behind my guide with a grim determination de-termination to reach tbe margin of the lake, if for no other reason than to exercise exer-cise my authority over the custodian of this strange estate. . A bush slapped me sharply and r I stopped to rub the sting from my face. "Are you hurt, sir?" asked Bates solicitously, so-licitously, turning with the lantern. "Of course not," I snapped. "I'm having hav-ing the time of my life. Are there no paths In this jungle?" "Not through here, sir. It was Mr. Glenarm's idea not to disturb the wood at all. He was very fond of walking through the timber." ; "Not at night. I hope! Where are we now?" "Quite near the lake, sir." v"Then go on." I was out of patience with Bates, with the pathless woodland, and, I must confess, con-fess, with the spirit of .John Marshall Glenarm. my grandfather. We came out presently upon a gravelly beach, and Bates stamped suddenly on planking. ' ' "This is the Glenarm dock, sir; and that's the boatbouse." He waved his lantern toward a low structure that rose dark beside us. Aa we stood silent, peering out into the starlight, I heard distinctly the dip of a paddle and the soft gliduirf motion mo-tion of a canoe. "It's a boat, sir," whispered Bates, hiding the lantern under his coat. I brushed past him and crept to the end of the dock. The paddlo tlippcd on silently and evenly in the still water, wa-ter, but the sound grew fainter A canoe is tbe most graceful, .he most sensitive, the most inet plicable contrivance con-trivance of man. With its paddle you raav dip CpSstars aloog iuiet snores or steal into tbe very harbor of dreams. I knew that furtive splash instantly, and knew that a trained Uan; wieli' d the paddle. Mv boyhood summer in tbe Maine woods were not, I frequently find, wholly wasted. The owner of the canoe had evidently evident-ly stolen close to the Glenarm dock, and had made off when alarmed by ths noise of our spproach through the wood. "Have vou a boat beret" "The boathouse is locked and I haven't the key with me, sir," he replied re-plied without excitement. "Of course vou haven't," I snapped, full of anger at his tone of irreproachable irreproach-able reppect,' and at my own helplessness. helpless-ness. I had not even seen the place by daylight, and the woodland behind me and the lake at my feet were things of shadow and mystery. In my rage I stamped my foot. "Lead the way back," I roared. I had turned toward the woodland when suddenly there stole across the water a voice a woman's voice, deep, musical and deliberate. "Really, I shouldn't be so angry if I were you!" it said, with a lingering note on the word angry. "Who. are yout What are jou doing do-ing heret" I bawled. "Just enioying a little tranquil and sat down before it, tired from my tramp. I was mj-stified and perplexed by the incident that had already marked my rominp;. It was possible, to be sure, that tbe bullet which narrowly nar-rowly missed my head in the little dining-room had Seen a wild shot that carried no evil intent. I dismissed at ones the idea that it might have been fired from the lake; it had crashed through the glass with too much force to have come so far; and, moreover, I could hardly imagine even a rifle ball's finding an unimpeded right of wav through so dense a strip of wood. I found it difficult to get rid of the idea that some ono had taken a pot-shot at me. . (To Be Continued.! "at the fastening of the window when I became aware of Bates at my elbow. "Did something happen, sir?" His unbroken calm angered me. Some 1 one had fired at me through a window and I had narrowly escaped being shot. I resented; the unconcern with which this errant accepted ths situation. "Nothing worth mentioning. Somebody rTmed to assassinate me, that's all," I lF Hid in a voles that failed to be calmly J Ironical. I was 'still fumbling at the- catch of ths window. ' "Allow me., slr."-nd he threw up the sash with an ease that Increased my irrigation, irri-gation, i. . - ' ' ; I leaned out and tried to find some clus --. to my assailant. Bates opened another window and surveyed the dark landscape with me.- - . -' "It was a shot from without, ,was it, sir?" "Of course. It was; you didn't suppose I shot at myself, did you?" He examined ths broken pans and picked up ths bullet from the table. -1 thought!" was the drawling, mocking reply. Far out upon the water I heard the dip and glide of the canoe, and saw faintly its outline for a moment; then it was gone. The lake, the surrounding wood, were an unknown world the canoe, a boat of dreams. Then again came the voice: "i "Good night, merry gentlemen!" "It was a lady, sir," remarked Bates, after we -had waited silently for a full minute. . "How clever you are!" I sneered. "I suppose ladies prowl about here at night, shooting ducks or into people's houses." "It would seem quite likely, sir." I should have liked to cast him into the lake, but he was already moving away, the lantern swinging at his side. I followed him, back through the woodland wood-land to the house. My spirits quickly responded to the cheerinjr influence of the great librarv. I stirred the fire on the hearth into life |