: Monte-Criston kreivi by Dumas Alexandre Finne Jalmari Translator - Historical fiction; Revenge Fiction; Adventure stories; Prisoners Fiction; France History 19th century Fiction; Pirates Fiction; Dantès Edmond (Fictitious character) Fiction

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THE CRIMSON THREAD

Starting back with a suppressed exclamation of surprise on her lips, Lucile Tucker stared in mystification and amazement. What was this ghost-like apparition that had appeared at the entrance to the long dark passage-way? A young woman's face, a face of beauty and refinement, surrounded by a perfect circle of white. In the almost complete darkness of the place, that was all Lucile could see. And such a place for such a face--the far corner of the third floor of one of the largest department stores in the world. At that very moment, from somewhere out of the darkness, came the slow, deep, chiming notes of a great clock telling off the hour of ten. Two hours before midnight! And she, Lucile, was for a moment alone; or at least up to this moment she had thought herself alone.

What was she to make of the face? True, it was on the level with the top of the wrapper's desk. That, at least, was encouraging.

"That white is a fox skin, the collar to some dark garment that blends completely with the shadows," Lucile told herself reassuringly.

At that moment a startling question sent her shrinking farther into the shadows. "If she's a real person and not a spectre, what is she doing here? Here, of all places, at the hour of ten!"

That was puzzling. What had this lady been doing in that narrow passage? She could not be a member of the working force of the store. No sales person would come to work in such a superb garment as this person wore. Although Lucile had been employed in the book department for but ten days, she had seen all those who worked here and was certain enough that no such remarkably beautiful face could have escaped her notice.

"She--why she might be anything," Lucile told herself. "A--thief--a shoplifter. Perhaps she stole that very cape--or whatever it is she wears. Perhaps--"

Suddenly her heart gave a leap. Footsteps were approaching. The next instant she saw a second face appear in the narrow line of light which the street lights cast through the window.

"Laurie Seymour," she breathed.

Laurie was the new man in the department. He had been working at the boys' and girls' books for only three days, yet Lucile liked him, liked him tremendously. He was so friendly, even-tempered and different. And he seemed a trifle mysterious.

"Mysterious," she mused, "perhaps here's the mystery answered."

It certainly did seem so, for after the apparition in white had whispered a word or two, Laurie looked at her strangely for a second, drew from his pocket a slip of paper and handing it to her, quickly vanished into the shadows. The next instant the apparition vanished, too. Again Lucile found herself alone in the far corner of the mammoth store, surrounded by darkness.

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