Word: stephen
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Dates: during 1880-1889
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...newness of awakened life and the radiance of a fresh spring day. I rose slowly and tried to think what had happened. Then, like a lightning-flash, the truth was revealed to me. Who had fired that revolver, and why did it make no noise? And where was Stephen? I looked about me in a bewildered way. There was no trace of the terrible contest I had witnessed the night before; there was no dead man on the floor, no blood-spot or stain, no sign of struggle or death. What was it I had seen, - a mere nightmare...
...tried to fly. My brain was spinning about like a wheel, and I could distinguish nothing clearly. There was the dream, the vision, the actuality, whatever it was, of the night before; here was the fact of to-day, the bright sunlight, the undisturbed room, and - myself. Where was Stephen? That was the question that kept repeating itself over and over, the question for which I could find no answer. Only in my own consciousness remained any trace of the night before...
...rose again. Mechanically I made a hasty toilet and went over to breakfast. My friends told me that I looked pale, and had lost my appetite. It was no news to me. I asked if Stephen had been anywhere seen. No, not since yesterday. Where was he? I could say nothing, except that I did not know; I could not bring in that strange enchanted vision as evidence...
...rumor did not reach my ears to disturb me then. Besides, I do not doubt but my haggard and harassed appearance during these terrible days may not unjustly have given rise to some such indistinct suspicion. Be that as it may, here is the fact. I never saw Stephen Maymore again...
...laughter stopped; the strange movements ceased. Dead silence again. Stephen sat quietly by the fire, neither stirring nor speaking. I looked on in dumb amazement; and then, as I looked, I saw him rise to his feet, with a livid light in his eyes; I saw him draw from his pocket a revolver and point it at some invisible mark. I tried to shriek for help; I tried to move. I might as well have been a statue. Then I saw the revolver snatched from him by a hand; I saw a face, distinct and clear...