Page:Weird Tales Volume 6 Number 5 (1925-11).djvu/39

Jim laughed. "There is a tale that she did," he replied, "but of course in these days no one takes any stock in it. The story goes that a group of men were in this very room making merry with liquor and song when someone told the legend of the picture and the witch's prediction. Everyone got to talking about it, and the tale, with the liquor, worked strongly on their imaginations, for they claimed that on the stroke of midnight the woman did step from the portrait and stab herself. That's what liquor will do to some minds. I suppose they would have seen six women, if that had been in the story that helped to work them up." He laughed and relighted his cigar, which had gone dead. "And by the way," he added, "that was just a hundred years ago tonight!"

"A hundred years ago tonight!" I said. "Why, then, the portrait is due to come to life again in less than an hour!" And in spite of myself I felt a touch of goose-flesh creep over my spine.

Jim laughed again. "Yes," he said, "and a real act is going to be slated just for our benefit. My boy, Dan, as you know, is a vaudeville performer. His star act is a female impersonation scene, a tragedy scene, in which a woman kills herself with a dagger. He's putting on the act this week over at Kingsby, about ten miles from here. He'll be back any moment now. I've promised to turn off all the lights, and he is going to work up some phosphorus effect and pretend to step from the portrait just as the clock tolls midnight. He's going through with the act just as the woman was said to have done it, and he says he will make it so realistic we'll just about think it's the real thing. Dan has a lot of ability and will give us a real thrill. It's almost half after 11 now. Suppose I turn off the lights, and we can smoke here by the fire. It won't throw any glow into the next room to spoil the phosphorus effect. Dan will be here in a few minutes. He's going to come from the theater right in his stage costume, with his make-up on. He'll get in by the track way, and we'll never know he's here till we see him in the portrait act. It will give us a better thrill than if we saw him first in the costume, and talked with him."

"I'll say it will!" I answered with fervor. "Hear that rain beat down and those pine trees moaning in the wind! If there was ever a night made for ghosts and goblins this is one of them. We'll get the full effect all right!" And I can not say that it was with complete joy I watched my friend carefully turn off every light in the place.

The minutes ticked by. Far away in the town below I heard a clock strike the half hour after 11.

"That's the tower clock," said Jim in a low voice. "It's always right to a second, and almost a hundred years old!"

"Everything around here seems to be old," I replied uneasily. "I suppose some witch predicted that the clock would always be right, and a goblin winds it every week with a key made out of witch-smoke!"

Jim laughed, but there was a bit of unsteadiness in his laugh. "Sort of gets you, that story about the woman, doesn't it?" he said. "And this being the anniversary of the night she is due to appear. Let's have a drink. It will steady us up a bit. That damned wind in the pine trees seems almost alive!"

"Thanks," I said.

Jim arose, and from a sideboard produced a bottle and glasses. We drank to each other's health, and then to Dan's success, and the success of the performance we were about to see.

"Just one more," Jim muttered, and commenced to fill the glasses. As