THE REPAIRER OF REPUTATIONS -3

One morning early in May I stood before the steel safe in my bedroom,rntrying on the golden jewelled crown. The diamonds flashed fire as Irnturned to the mirror, and the heavy beaten gold burned like a halornabout my head. I remembered Camilla’s agonized scream and the awfulrnwords echoing through the dim streets of Carcosa. They were the lastrnlines in the first act, and I dared not think of what followed—daredrnnot, even in the spring sunshine, there in my own room, surroundedrnwith familiar objects, reassured by the bustle from the street and thernvoices of the servants in the hallway outside. For those poisoned wordsrnhad dropped slowly into my heart, as death-sweat drops upon a bed-sheetrnand is absorbed. Trembling, I put the diadem from my head and wiped myrnforehead, but I thought of Hastur and of my own rightful ambition, andrnI remembered Mr. Wilde as I had last left him, his face all torn andrnbloody from the claws of that devil’s creature, and what he said—ah,rnwhat he said. The alarm bell in the safe began to whirr harshly, andrnI knew my time was up; but I would not heed it, and replacing thernflashing circlet upon my head I turned defiantly to the mirror. I stoodrnfor a long time absorbed in the changing expression of my own eyes.rnThe mirror reflected a face which was like my own, but whiter, and sornthin that I hardly recognized it. And all the time I kept repeatingrnbetween my clenched teeth, “The day has come! the day has come!” whilernthe alarm in the safe whirred and clamoured, and the diamonds sparkledrnand flamed above my brow. I heard a door open but did not heed it. Itrnwas only when I saw two faces in the mirror:—it was only when anotherrnface rose over my shoulder, and two other eyes met mine. I wheeledrnlike a flash and seized a long knife from my dressing-table, and myrncousin sprang back very pale, crying: “Hildred! for God’s sake!” thenrnas my hand fell, he said: “It is I, Louis, don’t you know me?” I stoodrnsilent. I could not have spoken for my life. He walked up to me andrntook the knife from my hand.rnrn“What is all this?” he inquired, in a gentle voice. “Are you ill?”rnrn“No,” I replied. But I doubt if he heard me.rnrn“Come, come, old fellow,” he cried, “take off that brass crown andrntoddle into the study. Are you going to a masquerade? What’s all thisrntheatrical tinsel anyway?”rnrnI was glad he thought the crown was made of brass and paste, yet Irndidn’t like him any the better for thinking so. I let him take it fromrnmy hand, knowing it was best to humour him. He tossed the splendidrndiadem in the air, and catching it, turned to me smiling.rnrn“It’s dear at fifty cents,” he said. “What’s it for?”rnrnI did not answer, but took the circlet from his hands, and placing itrnin the safe shut the massive steel door. The alarm ceased its infernalrndin at once. He watched me curiously, but did not seem to notice thernsudden ceasing of the alarm. He did, however, speak of the safe as arnbiscuit box. Fearing lest he might examine the combination I led thernway into my study. Louis threw himself on the sofa and flicked at fliesrnwith his eternal riding-whip. He wore his fatigue uniform with thernbraided jacket and jaunty cap, and I noticed that his riding-boots werernall splashed with red mud.rnrn“Where have you been?” I inquired.rnrn“Jumping mud creeks in Jersey,” he said. “I haven’t had time to changernyet; I was rather in a hurry to see you. Haven’t you got a glass ofrnsomething? I’m dead tired; been in the saddle twenty-four hours.”rnrnI gave him some brandy from my medicinal store, which he drank with arngrimace.rnrn“Damned bad stuff,” he observed. “I’ll give you an address where theyrnsell brandy that is brandy.”rnrn“It’s good enough for my needs,” I said indifferently. “I use it to rubrnmy chest with.” He stared and flicked at another fly.rnrn“See here, old fellow,” he began, “I’ve got something to suggest tornyou. It’s four years now that you’ve shut yourself up here like an owl,rnnever going anywhere, never taking any healthy exercise, never doing arndamn thing but poring over those books up there on the mantelpiece.”rnrnHe glanced along the row of shelves. “Napoleon, Napoleon, Napoleon!” hernread. “For heaven’s sake, have you nothing but Napoleons there?”rnrn“I wish they were bound in gold,” I said. “But wait, yes, there isrnanother book, _The King in Yellow_.” I looked him steadily in the eye.rnrn“Have you never read it?” I asked.rnrn“I? No, thank God! I don’t want to be driven crazy.”rnrnI saw he regretted his speech as soon as he had uttered it. There isrnonly one word which I loathe more than I do lunatic and that word isrncrazy. But I controlled myself and asked him why he thought _The Kingrnin Yellow_ dangerous.rnrn“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, hastily. “I only remember the excitementrnit created and the denunciations from pulpit and Press. I believe thernauthor shot himself after bringing forth this monstrosity, didn’t he?”rnrn“I understand he is still alive,” I answered.rnrn“That’s probably true,” he muttered; “bullets couldn’t kill a fiendrnlike that.”rnrn“It is a book of great truths,” I said.rnrn“Yes,” he replied, “of ‘truths’ which send men frantic and blast theirrnlives. I don’t care if the thing is, as they say, the very supremernessence of art. It’s a crime to have written it, and I for one shallrnnever open its pages.”rnrn“Is that what you have come to tell me?” I asked.rnrn“No,” he said, “I came to tell you that I am going to be married.”rnrnI believe for a moment my heart ceased to beat, but I kept my eyes onrnhis face.rnrn“Yes,” he continued, smiling happily, “married to the sweetest girl onrnearth.”rnrn“Constance Hawberk,” I said mechanically.rnrn“How did you know?” he cried, astonished. “I didn’t know it myselfrnuntil that evening last April, when we strolled down to the embankmentrnbefore dinner.”rnrn“When is it to be?” I asked.rnrn“It was to have been next September, but an hour ago a despatch camernordering our regiment to the Presidio, San Francisco. We leave at noonrnto-morrow. To-morrow,” he repeated. “Just think, Hildred, to-morrow Irnshall be the happiest fellow that ever drew breath in this jolly world,rnfor Constance will go with me.”rnrnI offered him my hand in congratulation, and he seized and shook itrnlike the good-natured fool he was—or pretended to be.rnrn“I am going to get my squadron as a wedding present,” he rattled on.“Captain and Mrs. Louis Castaigne, eh, Hildred?”rnrnThen he told me where it was to be and who were to be there, and madernme promise to come and be best man. I set my teeth and listened to hisrnboyish chatter without showing what I felt, but—rnrnI was getting to the limit of my endurance, and when he jumped up,rnand, switching his spurs till they jingled, said he must go, I did notrndetain him.rnrn“There’s one thing I want to ask of you,” I said quietly.rnrn“Out with it, it’s promised,” he laughed.rnrn“I want you to meet me for a quarter of an hour’s talk to-night.”rnrn“Of course, if you wish,” he said, somewhat puzzled. “Where?”rnrn“Anywhere, in the park there.”rnrn“What time, Hildred?”rnrn“Midnight.”rnrn“What in the name of—” he began, but checked himself and laughinglyrnassented. I watched him go down the stairs and hurry away, his sabrernbanging at every stride. He turned into Bleecker Street, and I knew hernwas going to see Constance. I gave him ten minutes to disappear andrnthen followed in his footsteps, taking with me the jewelled crown andrnthe silken robe embroidered with the Yellow Sign. When I turned intornBleecker Street, and entered the doorway which bore the sign—rnrn MR. WILDE, REPAIRER OF REPUTATIONS. Third Bell.rnrnI saw old Hawberk moving about in his shop, and imagined I heardrnConstance’s voice in the parlour; but I avoided them both and hurriedrnup the trembling stairways to Mr. Wilde’s apartment. I knocked andrnentered without ceremony. Mr. Wilde lay groaning on the floor, his facerncovered with blood, his clothes torn to shreds. Drops of blood werernscattered about over the carpet, which had also been ripped and frayedrnin the evidently recent struggle.rnrn“It’s that cursed cat,” he said, ceasing his groans, and turning hisrncolourless eyes to me; “she attacked me while I was asleep. I believernshe will kill me yet.”rnrnThis was too much, so I went into the kitchen, and, seizing a hatchetrnfrom the pantry, started to find the infernal beast and settle her thenrnand there. My search was fruitless, and after a while I gave it up andrncame back to find Mr. Wilde squatting on his high chair by the table.rnHe had washed his face and changed his clothes. The great furrowsrnwhich the cat’s claws had ploughed up in his face he had filled withrncollodion, and a rag hid the wound in his throat. I told him I shouldrnkill the cat when I came across her, but he only shook his head andrnturned to the open ledger before him. He read name after name of thernpeople who had come to him in regard to their reputation, and the sumsrnhe had amassed were startling.rnrn“I put on the screws now and then,” he explained.rnrn“One day or other some of these people will assassinate you,” Irninsisted.rnrn“Do you think so?” he said, rubbing his mutilated ears.rnrnIt was useless to argue with him, so I took down the manuscriptrnentitled Imperial Dynasty of America, for the last time I shouldrnever take it down in Mr. Wilde’s study. I read it through, thrillingrnand trembling with pleasure. When I had finished Mr. Wilde took thernmanuscript and, turning to the dark passage which leads from his studyrnto his bed-chamber, called out in a loud voice, “Vance.” Then for thernfirst time, I noticed a man crouching there in the shadow. How I hadrnoverlooked him during my search for the cat, I cannot imagine.rnrn“Vance, come in,” cried Mr. Wilde.rnrnThe figure rose and crept towards us, and I shall never forget the facernthat he raised to mine, as the light from the window illuminated it.rnrn“Vance, this is Mr. Castaigne,” said Mr. Wilde. Before he had finishedrnspeaking, the man threw himself on the ground before the table, cryingrnand grasping, “Oh, God! Oh, my God! Help me! Forgive me! Oh, Mr.rnCastaigne, keep that man away. You cannot, you cannot mean it! You arerndifferent—save me! I am broken down—I was in a madhouse and now—whenrnall was coming right—when I had forgotten the King—the King in Yellowrnand—but I shall go mad again—I shall go mad—”rnrnHis voice died into a choking rattle, for Mr. Wilde had leapt on himrnand his right hand encircled the man’s throat. When Vance fell in arnheap on the floor, Mr. Wilde clambered nimbly into his chair again, andrnrubbing his mangled ears with the stump of his hand, turned to me andrnasked me for the ledger. I reached it down from the shelf and he openedrnit. After a moment’s searching among the beautifully written pages, herncoughed complacently, and pointed to the name Vance.rnrn“Vance,” he read aloud, “Osgood Oswald Vance.” At the sound of hisrnname, the man on the floor raised his head and turned a convulsed facernto Mr. Wilde. His eyes were injected with blood, his lips tumefied.“Called April 28th,” continued Mr. Wilde. “Occupation, cashier in thernSeaforth National Bank; has served a term of forgery at Sing Sing,rnfrom whence he was transferred to the Asylum for the Criminal Insane.rnPardoned by the Governor of New York, and discharged from the Asylum,rnJanuary 19, 1918. Reputation damaged at Sheepshead Bay. Rumours that hernlives beyond his income. Reputation to be repaired at once. Retainerrn$1,500.rnrn“Note.—Has embezzled sums amounting to $30,000 since March 20,rn1919, excellent family, and secured present position through uncle’srninfluence. Father, President of Seaforth Bank.”rnrnI looked at the man on the floor.rnrn“Get up, Vance,” said Mr. Wilde in a gentle voice. Vance rose as ifrnhypnotized. “He will do as we suggest now,” observed Mr. Wilde, andrnopening the manuscript, he read the entire history of the ImperialrnDynasty of America. Then in a kind and soothing murmur he ran overrnthe important points with Vance, who stood like one stunned. His eyesrnwere so blank and vacant that I imagined he had become half-witted,rnand remarked it to Mr. Wilde who replied that it was of no consequencernanyway. Very patiently we pointed out to Vance what his share inrnthe affair would be, and he seemed to understand after a while. Mr.rnWilde explained the manuscript, using several volumes on Heraldry,rnto substantiate the result of his researches. He mentioned thernestablishment of the Dynasty in Carcosa, the lakes which connectedrnHastur, Aldebaran and the mystery of the Hyades. He spoke of Cassildarnand Camilla, and sounded the cloudy depths of Demhe, and the Lake ofrnHali. “The scolloped tatters of the King in Yellow must hide Yhtillrnforever,” he muttered, but I do not believe Vance heard him. Then byrndegrees he led Vance along the ramifications of the Imperial family,rnto Uoht and Thale, from Naotalba and Phantom of Truth, to Aldones, andrnthen tossing aside his manuscript and notes, he began the wonderfulrnstory of the Last King. Fascinated and thrilled I watched him. He threwrnup his head, his long arms were stretched out in a magnificent gesturernof pride and power, and his eyes blazed deep in their sockets like twornemeralds. Vance listened stupefied. As for me, when at last Mr. Wildernhad finished, and pointing to me, cried, “The cousin of the King!” myrnhead swam with excitement.rnrnControlling myself with a superhuman effort, I explained to Vance whyrnI alone was worthy of the crown and why my cousin must be exiled orrndie. I made him understand that my cousin must never marry, even afterrnrenouncing all his claims, and how that least of all he should marryrnthe daughter of the Marquis of Avonshire and bring England into thernquestion. I showed him a list of thousands of names which Mr. Wilde hadrndrawn up; every man whose name was there had received the Yellow Signrnwhich no living human being dared disregard. The city, the state, thernwhole land, were ready to rise and tremble before the Pallid Mask.rnrnThe time had come, the people should know the son of Hastur, and thernwhole world bow to the black stars which hang in the sky over Carcosa.rnrnVance leaned on the table, his head buried in his hands. Mr. Wilde drewrna rough sketch on the margin of yesterday’s _Herald_ with a bit of leadrnpencil. It was a plan of Hawberk’s rooms. Then he wrote out the orderrnand affixed the seal, and shaking like a palsied man I signed my firstrnwrit of execution with my name Hildred-Rex.rnrnMr. Wilde clambered to the floor and unlocking the cabinet, took arnlong square box from the first shelf. This he brought to the table andrnopened. A new knife lay in the tissue paper inside and I picked it uprnand handed it to Vance, along with the order and the plan of Hawberk’srnapartment. Then Mr. Wilde told Vance he could go; and he went,rnshambling like an outcast of the slums.rnrnI sat for a while watching the daylight fade behind the square tower ofrnthe Judson Memorial Church, and finally, gathering up the manuscriptrnand notes, took my hat and started for the door.rnrnMr. Wilde watched me in silence. When I had stepped into the hall Irnlooked back. Mr. Wilde’s small eyes were still fixed on me. Behind him,rnthe shadows gathered in the fading light. Then I closed the door behindrnme and went out into the darkening streets.rnrnI had eaten nothing since breakfast, but I was not hungry. A wretched,rnhalf-starved creature, who stood looking across the street at thernLethal Chamber, noticed me and came up to tell me a tale of misery. Irngave him money, I don’t know why, and he went away without thanking me.rnAn hour later another outcast approached and whined his story. I had arnblank bit of paper in my pocket, on which was traced the Yellow Sign,rnand I handed it to him. He looked at it stupidly for a moment, andrnthen with an uncertain glance at me, folded it with what seemed to mernexaggerated care and placed it in his bosom.rnrnThe electric lights were sparkling among the trees, and the new moonrnshone in the sky above the Lethal Chamber. It was tiresome waiting inrnthe square; I wandered from the Marble Arch to the artillery stablesrnand back again to the lotos fountain. The flowers and grass exhaledrna fragrance which troubled me. The jet of the fountain played inrnthe moonlight, and the musical splash of falling drops reminded mernof the tinkle of chained mail in Hawberk’s shop. But it was not sornfascinating, and the dull sparkle of the moonlight on the water broughtrnno such sensations of exquisite pleasure, as when the sunshine playedrnover the polished steel of a corselet on Hawberk’s knee. I watched thernbats darting and turning above the water plants in the fountain basin,rnbut their rapid, jerky flight set my nerves on edge, and I went awayrnagain to walk aimlessly to and fro among the trees.rnrnThe artillery stables were dark, but in the cavalry barracks thernofficers’ windows were brilliantly lighted, and the sallyport wasrnconstantly filled with troopers in fatigue, carrying straw and harnessrnand baskets filled with tin dishes.rnrnTwice the mounted sentry at the gates was changed while I wandered uprnand down the asphalt walk. I looked at my watch. It was nearly time.rnThe lights in the barracks went out one by one, the barred gate wasrnclosed, and every minute or two an officer passed in through the sidernwicket, leaving a rattle of accoutrements and a jingle of spurs onrnthe night air. The square had become very silent. The last homelessrnloiterer had been driven away by the grey-coated park policeman, therncar tracks along Wooster Street were deserted, and the only sound whichrnbroke the stillness was the stamping of the sentry’s horse and the ringrnof his sabre against the saddle pommel. In the barracks, the officers’rnquarters were still lighted, and military servants passed and repassedrnbefore the bay windows. Twelve o’clock sounded from the new spire ofrnSt. Francis Xavier, and at the last stroke of the sad-toned bell arnfigure passed through the wicket beside the portcullis, returned thernsalute of the sentry, and crossing the street entered the square andrnadvanced toward the Benedick apartment house.rnrn“Louis,” I called.rnrnThe man pivoted on his spurred heels and came straight toward me.rnrn“Is that you, Hildred?”rnrn“Yes, you are on time.”rnrnI took his offered hand, and we strolled toward the Lethal Chamber.rnrnHe rattled on about his wedding and the graces of Constance, andrntheir future prospects, calling my attention to his captain’srnshoulder-straps, and the triple gold arabesque on his sleeve andrnfatigue cap. I believe I listened as much to the music of his spursrnand sabre as I did to his boyish babble, and at last we stood underrnthe elms on the Fourth Street corner of the square opposite thernLethal Chamber. Then he laughed and asked me what I wanted with him.rnI motioned him to a seat on a bench under the electric light, and satrndown beside him. He looked at me curiously, with that same searchingrnglance which I hate and fear so in doctors. I felt the insult of hisrnlook, but he did not know it, and I carefully concealed my feelings.rnrn“Well, old chap,” he inquired, “what can I do for you?”rnrnI drew from my pocket the manuscript and notes of the Imperial Dynastyrnof America, and looking him in the eye said:rnrn“I will tell you. On your word as a soldier, promise me to read thisrnmanuscript from beginning to end, without asking me a question. Promisernme to read these notes in the same way, and promise me to listen tornwhat I have to tell later.”rnrn“I promise, if you wish it,” he said pleasantly. “Give me the paper,rnHildred.”rnrnHe began to read, raising his eyebrows with a puzzled, whimsical air,rnwhich made me tremble with suppressed anger. As he advanced, hisrneyebrows contracted, and his lips seemed to form the word “rubbish.”rnrnThen he looked slightly bored, but apparently for my sake read, with anrnattempt at interest, which presently ceased to be an effort. He startedrnwhen in the closely written pages he came to his own name, and whenrnhe came to mine he lowered the paper, and looked sharply at me for arnmoment. But he kept his word, and resumed his reading, and I let thernhalf-formed question die on his lips unanswered. When he came to thernend and read the signature of Mr. Wilde, he folded the paper carefullyrnand returned it to me. I handed him the notes, and he settled back,rnpushing his fatigue cap up to his forehead, with a boyish gesture,rnwhich I remembered so well in school. I watched his face as he read,rnand when he finished I took the notes with the manuscript, and placedrnthem in my pocket. Then I unfolded a scroll marked with the YellowrnSign. He saw the sign, but he did not seem to recognize it, and Irncalled his attention to it somewhat sharply.rnrn“Well,” he said, “I see it. What is it?”rnrn“It is the Yellow Sign,” I said angrily.rnrn“Oh, that’s it, is it?” said Louis, in that flattering voice, whichrnDoctor Archer used to employ with me, and would probably have employedrnagain, had I not settled his affair for him.rnrnI kept my rage down and answered as steadily as possible, “Listen, yournhave engaged your word?”rnrn“I am listening, old chap,” he replied soothingly.rnrnI began to speak very calmly.rnrn“Dr. Archer, having by some means become possessed of the secret of thernImperial Succession, attempted to deprive me of my right, alleging thatrnbecause of a fall from my horse four years ago, I had become mentallyrndeficient. He presumed to place me under restraint in his own house inrnhopes of either driving me insane or poisoning me. I have not forgottenrnit. I visited him last night and the interview was final.”rnrnLouis turned quite pale, but did not move. I resumed triumphantly,“There are yet three people to be interviewed in the interests ofrnMr. Wilde and myself. They are my cousin Louis, Mr. Hawberk, and hisrndaughter Constance.”rnrnLouis sprang to his feet and I arose also, and flung the paper markedrnwith the Yellow Sign to the ground.rnrn“Oh, I don’t need that to tell you what I have to say,” I cried, with arnlaugh of triumph. “You must renounce the crown to me, do you hear, torn_me_.”rnrnLouis looked at me with a startled air, but recovering himself saidrnkindly, “Of course I renounce the—what is it I must renounce?”rnrn“The crown,” I said angrily.rnrn“Of course,” he answered, “I renounce it. Come, old chap, I’ll walkrnback to your rooms with you.”rnrn“Don’t try any of your doctor’s tricks on me,” I cried, trembling withrnfury. “Don’t act as if you think I am insane.”rnrn“What nonsense,” he replied. “Come, it’s getting late, Hildred.”rnrn“No,” I shouted, “you must listen. You cannot marry, I forbid it. Dornyou hear? I forbid it. You shall renounce the crown, and in reward Irngrant you exile, but if you refuse you shall die.”rnrnHe tried to calm me, but I was roused at last, and drawing my longrnknife barred his way.rnrnThen I told him how they would find Dr. Archer in the cellar with hisrnthroat open, and I laughed in his face when I thought of Vance and hisrnknife, and the order signed by me.rnrn“Ah, you are the King,” I cried, “but I shall be King. Who are you tornkeep me from Empire over all the habitable earth! I was born the cousinrnof a king, but I shall be King!”rnrnLouis stood white and rigid before me. Suddenly a man came running uprnFourth Street, entered the gate of the Lethal Temple, traversed thernpath to the bronze doors at full speed, and plunged into the deathrnchamber with the cry of one demented, and I laughed until I wept tears,rnfor I had recognized Vance, and knew that Hawberk and his daughter werernno longer in my way.rnrn“Go,” I cried to Louis, “you have ceased to be a menace. You will neverrnmarry Constance now, and if you marry any one else in your exile, Irnwill visit you as I did my doctor last night. Mr. Wilde takes charge ofrnyou to-morrow.” Then I turned and darted into South Fifth Avenue, andrnwith a cry of terror Louis dropped his belt and sabre and followed mernlike the wind. I heard him close behind me at the corner of BleeckerrnStreet, and I dashed into the doorway under Hawberk’s sign. He cried,“Halt, or I fire!” but when he saw that I flew up the stairs leavingrnHawberk’s shop below, he left me, and I heard him hammering andrnshouting at their door as though it were possible to arouse the dead.rnrnMr. Wilde’s door was open, and I entered crying, “It is done, it isrndone! Let the nations rise and look upon their King!” but I could notrnfind Mr. Wilde, so I went to the cabinet and took the splendid diademrnfrom its case. Then I drew on the white silk robe, embroidered with thernYellow Sign, and placed the crown upon my head. At last I was King,rnKing by my right in Hastur, King because I knew the mystery of thernHyades, and my mind had sounded the depths of the Lake of Hali. I wasrnKing! The first grey pencillings of dawn would raise a tempest whichrnwould shake two hemispheres. Then as I stood, my every nerve pitched tornthe highest tension, faint with the joy and splendour of my thought,rnwithout, in the dark passage, a man groaned.rnrnI seized the tallow dip and sprang to the door. The cat passed me likerna demon, and the tallow dip went out, but my long knife flew swifterrnthan she, and I heard her screech, and I knew that my knife had foundrnher. For a moment I listened to her tumbling and thumping about in therndarkness, and then when her frenzy ceased, I lighted a lamp and raisedrnit over my head. Mr. Wilde lay on the floor with his throat torn open.rnAt first I thought he was dead, but as I looked, a green sparkle camerninto his sunken eyes, his mutilated hand trembled, and then a spasmrnstretched his mouth from ear to ear. For a moment my terror and despairrngave place to hope, but as I bent over him his eyeballs rolled cleanrnaround in his head, and he died. Then while I stood, transfixed withrnrage and despair, seeing my crown, my empire, every hope and everyrnambition, my very life, lying prostrate there with the dead master,rn_they_ came, seized me from behind, and bound me until my veins stoodrnout like cords, and my voice failed with the paroxysms of my frenziedrnscreams. But I still raged, bleeding and infuriated among them, andrnmore than one policeman felt my sharp teeth. Then when I could nornlonger move they came nearer; I saw old Hawberk, and behind him myrncousin Louis’ ghastly face, and farther away, in the corner, a woman,rnConstance, weeping softly.rnrn“Ah! I see it now!” I shrieked. “You have seized the throne and thernempire. Woe! woe to you who are crowned with the crown of the King inrnYellow!”rnrn[EDITOR’S NOTE.—Mr. Castaigne died yesterday in the Asylum forrnCriminal Insane.]