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A Terrible Scare. -

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A Terrible Scare. (COMPLETE) If there was one virtue more than another which Miss Priscilia Fairplay prided herself on possessing, not only indi- vidually, but for her sex in its entirety, it was plain, useful matter-of-fact common sense. "All women, she was wont to remark when laying down the law in the seclusion of those strictly feminine gather- ings she was in the habit of attending, "could not hope to be clever, nor even could they all expect to be beautiful. But there was one characteristic which might be said to bs the birth-right of the sex; one distinctive trait which admitted, or ought to admit, of no exception. It was vithin reach of each one of them who cared to cultivate it, and would stand them in good stead when muscular strength and brute force would iail, in a word, it was the specific feminine pre- rogative of good, sound, practical common sense." It was, however. an undeniable fact that, notwithstanding all these aspi- rations and claims to the state of sweet reasonableness, as years went by Miss Pris- cilia Fairplay betrayed a distinct tendency to the cultivation of fack-harmless, gocd- Eatured, nay. sometimes even actively benevolent fads—but none the less fads of the most unmistakable description. She had tried slumming, stamp-collecting, and photography prison-visiting and working guilds; also Sunday School teaching. Caster reform and the Primrose League, with the result that at the age of thirty- three there remained nothing for her ener- getic spirit to grapple with but the ex- ploration of Central Africa or hospital nursing. For reasons of her own, remotely connected with th National Debt, she chose the latter. Her resolution once taken, Priscilia lost no time in putting in motion the machinery that in due course would admit her as a probationer in the well-known hospital of Saint Euphemia. in Northern London and a certain night in November, when our story opens, found her awaiting admittance at its celebrated, grim-looking portals. It was a truly dismal night; cold, raw, and foggy, such as our Englist Novembers are justly noted for. A gentle, but insidious, drizzle covered pavements and railings with a shimmer of dampness which the I flickering gaslights seemed to emphasise, and. with a touch of irony, to paint with a fictitious brightness. The chill bleakness of the mist penetrated everywhere, and caused Priscilla to shiver in the shelter of her four-wheeler. It was past midnight. The roar and rattle of the great city had sunk into comparative quietude, broken conly by the furtive, shuftung step of some luckless waif, or the passing clatter of a belated hansom. Priscilla was just three hours late. By special permission of the matron she had been allowed to join at nine p.m., instead of at the usual hour fixed for probationers. But as ill-luck would have it, there had been an accident on the line, and her train, due at Eustun at 8.30, had not arrived till past eleven. She was tired, cold, and sleepy, but with a fortitude born of the conscious- ness of suffering for a good cause she did not grumble, but sat in her growler smiling with Mark Tapleian cheerfulness as she awaited an answer to the cabby's energetic summons. At length, after an interval which seemed long to the shivering cabby, whatever it did to his strong-minded fare, the door opened and the night porter appeared. "I am Miss Fairplay," said Priscilia, speaking in the swerely sensible, but slightly superior, tone she invariably adopted in her dealings with the other half of humanity. "There was an accident on the line and the train was delayed. I telegraphed to the matron. Did she not expect me 2" "Lor, yes, Miss, answered the somewhat drowsy porter. "She ex- pected you right enough, and tuld me to look out for you, as you would be acoming. But she and everyone else has been in bed this two hours. If you'll come with me I'll show you your room. The matron will see you first thing in the morning. I'll carry up your bag. Ycur box must wait till to- morrow." She paid the cabman and entered, and the heavy door was shut with a solemn care and avoidance of noise befitting time and place. Inside the huge building abso- lute silence prevailed. Not a footfall, not a whisper, broke the stillness. Vast empty corridors and shadowy stairways seemed to stretch indefinitely in every direction, a labyrinth of passages, a mul- tiplicity of doors, a bewilderment of space. Here and there a subdued and shaded light burnt low, intensifying the gloom, and bearing silent testimony to the watch and Tifcrd so ceaselessly kept against the many ills that flesh is heir to. With practical forethought Pris- cilia had partaken of some slight refreshment at the station, common sense having warned her that none would be obtainable at a hospital at that late hour, so without more ado she followed the porter to her room. Oh, what a Sabbath day's journey it seemed to the poor tired traveller! Up long flights of stairs to some dizzy upper storey; clown^one long corridor, and at right angles Wong another, then more stairs and still more corridors, their length interminable and confusing. At last her guide halted. "Here you arc, Miss. That's your door at the end of the passage there, where the light is burning-No. 243. You'll see it on the door. Here's your bag. I must go back to mind the door." And with af brusque "Good-night" he left her. With a sigh of genuine thankfulness at having reached her haven, Priscilia made her way straight to where a dim light issued from a half- closed door. By its faint rays she could just read the number—243. "That's all right," she repeated to herself as she pushed the door open and entered. Wearily she on the nearest chair, and with an impatient gesture tossed her bonnet on the bed and proceeded to remove the heavy fur cloak she had travelled in. In the un. certain light she could not see the hanging hooks, so half groping her way across the room to the bracket she turned the gas full on. Then, and not till then, did her eye fall on a table pushed into a corner, on which lay a figure stiff and stark, with upturned toes and every outline of limb and shape clearly and well defined under the sheet which covered it. For a moment Priscilla gazed with starting eyes and drooping jaw, but without actual comprehension. Then, like a lightning stroke, a great horror fell on her, paralysing her where she stood. He breath came in hurried, laboured gasps, her flesh seemed literally to creep and her hair to rise on her head. With a great effort she backed step by step to the door, without removing for a seeondi her awe-struck gaze from the thing on the table which lay so suspiciously still under the tell-tale sheet. To dart through the open door and shut it wildly behind, her was the work of a second, but to be out of the room was not to be quit of the figure. In the dim ghostly corridor there was no comfort; she could still see the ghastly form, still feed its icy presence. "Oh, what shall I do?" she moaned, her knees trembling under her, her teeth chattering like castanets. "I cannot stay here all night, and I cannot sleep in there with It!" To go downstairs and try and find the hall porter in that wilderness of space was obviously impossible, while to stand all night hanging on to the door handle was almost as impractible. There was one middle course. Her much vaunted common sense came to the rescue and sug- gested it. It was to go back into the room, fetch out her cloak and a chair, and keep vigil outside until morning broke. With a mighty courage which •he felt and ever afterwards maintaiupd WJBild have been deemed wortlyf of a V.C. j had it. been made by one of the other sex, she decided en attempting it. Holding her breath she opened the door, and with eyes tightly closed advanced into the room. But, unacquainted as she was with the arrangements of the furniture, she was forced to open them. only to imagine, from some play of light and shade causing an apparent undulating motion of the sheet, that the figure under it moved. With one piercing, ear-splitting shriek she turned and fled out of the room down the passage to the nearest door. "Open! she cried beating a. wild tattoo on the panels with both her fists. "Let me in! Oh, let me in!" In a twinkling, not only the door at which she hammered, but every door within sight was opened, and the corridor but lately so silent and deserted was alive with white-robed, startled female forms, and the air full of shrill demands to know what was the cause of the disturbance. But Priscilia, the strong-minded, the sen- sible, was beyond lucid explanations, or any care for multitudes. Instinctively she clung to the woman nearest her, aim. dragging her unresistingly along, pointed with tragic finger to the thing on the table. "Take away that cornse," she whispered hoarsely. "I cannot sleep with a corpse in the room." Well, I never," was the contemptuous "To be frightened of that! A fine nurse you will Why, it's only the lay figure on which we prac- tise bandaging!" MONDAY: "THE UNWILLING COMMUNARD."

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