MY LADY OF THE SOUTH
lation, when, it seemed to me, the door leading into the hallway opened slightly. I could perceive the movement within the mirror, although it was noiseless, and so stealthy that I should have missed it altogether had my gaze not been concentrated upon the exact spot. Inch by inch the door opened, until sufficiently wide to permit the thrusting forward of a face. Gazing into the mirror I never moved, waiting motionless to discover who this silent visitor might be. My hands gripped the dresser, every nerve throbbing, as I saw that countenance—the haggard, ghostly lineaments of the mad woman. Our eyes met in the glass, met as if fascinated, each standing rigid from surprise, too greatly startled to cry out. There was no doubt as tn the insanity in those wild orbs staring at me, and, for the instant, I could not escape their power. They seemed to hold mt as the snake does the bird. Then my fingers gripped hard on the dresser, and I swung around, desperately resolved to make the creature captive. With my first hostile move the door clicked shut, and, before I could touch the latch, my foot caught the edge of a rug, and I fell to my knees.
The delay was merely that of an instant, and then I had flung the door wide open, and was in the hallway. A glance told me that this was the second story, but the insane woman had disappeared as completely as if dissolved in air. I could see from end to end of that hall, past the rail of the staircase, back to the fire screen hiding the secret passage, but I was there alone. The screen was in its place, and every door, so far as I could see, closed. Where had that woman vanished so quickly?
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