Loyola University Maryland - Evergreen / Green and Gray Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

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THE LOYOLA ANNUAL 21 I have no idea how long I stood gazing in rapture at this perfect little corner of the Orient. However, we were both brought to our senses by the sound of a muffled scream that seemed to come from some place above us. Looking around, we saw a stairway which before had escaped our notice. Up this we crept. At the top v e came to a door. Inside we could hear the sound of mien’s voices, as if in prayer, mingled with the stifled sobs of a woman. We opened the door quietly and looked on a plain room, furnished in polished marble and encircled with large vases from v hich issued a peculiar greenish flame, casting a ghastly appearance on a scene which was horrible enough already. For at the other end of the room was an altar, in front of which was bound, hand and foot, a young, dark-eyed girl, whose slender body was convulsed with sobs. Around this were gathered three Hindoos, one of whom was dressed in the robes of a priest. He held a large knife in his hand and v as muttering some blasphemous prayer to his gods. So interested were the men in their murderous work that they failed to note our intrusion. As we stepped into the room, however, the three men turned. I saw a revolver flash in the hand of one. I drew my own. We fired almost at the same instant. I felt a sharp pain as the bullet grazed my cheek, but I had the satisfaction of seeing my man fail without a cry. Before I could fire again one of the others was upon me. Then there began such a struggle as I had never experienced in all my days of football. Backward and forward we swayed, each one grappling for the other’s throat. I remember hearing Burt and the priest fall to the floor and I remember wondering which of them was gasping so painfully for breath. At that moment down we v ent ourselves, carrying with us one of the vases con- taining the green flame. Over and over we rolled and at last I succeeded in fastening my fingers on the Hindoo’s throat and choking him into submission.

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20 THE LOYOLA ANNUAL into the house, search until we found the girl and then, if possible, carry her off to a place of safety. The first part of our plan worked beautifully. As soon as the gate opened in answer to our ring, we both burst into the yard, overpow- ered the servant who opened it, bound his hands and feet with our belts and locked him in the basement. But now the more exciting part of our adventure was to come. We were about to enter the mysterious house. Without pausing to consider we opened the door and went in boldly. We found ourselves in a little hallway in which several doors opened on either side. There did not seem to be anyone in this part of the house, so we went cautiously along, looking into each of the rooms as we passed. As we opened one of the doors we caught sight of some bloody characters inscribed on the opposite wall, but as we could do no more than guess at their meaning we passed on. ¥ e had gone about ten feet more along this hallway when we came to a large archway, closed by handsomely carved fold- ing doors. On opening these, I was prepared to look into a room of fantastic beauty and grandeur; but the scene that met my eyes so overpowered me with amazement that I entirely forgot where I was. For here in the centre of this house, in the midst of gay New York, was a perfect little Oriental garden. Large palm trees raised their towering heads almost to the graceful arch of the roof above. Oriental shrubs lined the network of paths that crossed and recrossed each other throughout this whole wonderland. Sparkling fountains were scattered here and there among the trees and shrubs, and the air v ras laden with the fragrant odor of spices. The most wonderful thing, however, about this marvelous spot was the way it was lighted. By some mysterious means a soft radiance was spread over the whole scene, giving the exact effect of an Oriental twilight.

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22 THE LOYOLA ANNUAL I rose to my feet to notice for the first time what havoc the overturned vase was playing. The burning oil had run over the floor and now almost one-half of the room was in flames. I looked around for Burt and discovered him busily engaged in untieing the girl from the altar. He soon had her free, but by this time the room had become unbearably stifling from the smoke. The flames were all around us. Burt picked up the now senseless form of the girl in his arms and we made a dash for the door. We gained the stairs and rushed down. The whole house was now filled with smoke and we were almost suffocated. Still we rushed on and at last opened the back door and landed safely in the yard. The smoke was by this time pouring from every part of the house. Far up the street we could hear the engines rushing madly to the spot. Revived by the fresh air, we managed to carry our rescued charge safely to our apartments, where we turned her over to the care of our old housekeeper. Then we went to our front window and watched the house across the way burn until there was nothing left but the four walls. At present I am still an old bachelor and happy in my free- dom, but I often visit my old friend Burt and his charming little wife, who now live in their new home just across the way from my own apartments. W. Paul Brown, ’ll.